Paths

They say you should follow you heart. But that’s kind of a selfish thought. There’s a reason why our ribs are cages… our hearts are hard to control. Our cravings aren’t necessarily what’s morally correct, our thoughts aren’t always positive. Our feelings are sometimes weapons we use to make others understand what we’re going through in order to numb our loneliness. We can follow our hearts, follow the wants. Or we can follow our mind, follow the needs. Our mind goes through the consequences, the impacts we might cause. But our heart is too lively, it lives for the moment and doesn’t really consider the after taste.

Which would you follow?

fluorescent nights

It’s up to you, New York, New York…

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In New York, things have a greater contrast during the night. The way light beams out of every living and non-living particle within the darkness make you feel alive, as if reminding that without darkness shining hearts wouldn’t be noticed. This city is sleepless. It’s as if the night’s energy could keep you alive forever.

where the streets have no name

Art is the most incredible thing discovered by humans. It’s a form of expression which allows you to vent your thoughts and mirror society. It has a message, but it can be translated by your imagination to anything possible. It’s an abstract feeling waiting to escape your lungs. If you search deeply and open your heart (not just your eyes) the piece of art will whisper you its story.

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PS. I know I’ve posted pictures of the streets of Lima before, but I still consider myself a tourist in my own country because it’s full of wonders waiting to be discovered. I simply can’t describe how lucky I am to live in Peru, a country lit up by art and mysterious messages in every corner. Knowing that people gift public walls with art just to make others happy and spread a message ( not for their benefit or selfish purposes) makes me grasp to the hope I have in humanity. 

switch on

I’ve decided to turn on the light. It’ll scare away everything trying to infiltrate my lungs, sanctioning my breathing. It’ll direct me through the mysterious fog that has formed between my eyelashes, and most importantly, my thoughts will be guided by my eyes, not by my terribly messed-up brain (which is not a very nice author). I don’t want to be an empty and dark hall, I don’t want to depend on a huntsmen to make all the ever-present demons in my heart skedaddle. I’m tired of trying to fix the past that can’t be undone and planning an unknown future, tired of not living for the moment. That is why I have decided to turn on the light. I will no longer be an individual that depends on someone to feel alive, but my lively eyes will shine through everyone’s soul, making them envisage that they too need to turn on the light. It’s time to smile.

switch on :)

PS: listen to sun and changing of the seasons by two door cinema club, they’re the best mood boosters

deliberated mechanism

You’re a free soul caged in a robotic body. Your actions are out of your control. The doubt you contain that something erroneous swims through your veins concludes that you know that a puzzle piece was lost designedly. You do as you’re told without asking why, even though your bones implore you to. Who programmed you? Your body must inhabit a labyrinth, but your physical features try challenging the world into believing you’re “perfection” itself. What does your soul want to divulge that your mind is trying to bury? You might not notice, but you’re your own enemy. Each one of your organs is working on it’s own, betraying your whole, trying to rip you apart to gain control…  Each one with an independent task to complete, which in the end will lead to

self

destruction.

Hypnagogia

 

I am in the borderline of heaven and hell, in a somewhat perplexing limbo. My body calls my name but I am nowhere to be found, my soul keeps disappearing into an ocean of secrets too deep and mystical, it’s too dangerous for my bones to risk it.  Imagination floods my whole body, and it’s interlaced with lost memories, puzzling thoughts and hidden messages. Yet, something keeps on trying to keep me alive, analytical. Something interrupts my swirling ingenuity by pulling me back to reality.  Maybe it’s my subconcience warning me…  This is the moment in which my creativity is at its climax, cursed with a confusion too insane to comprehend. Adrenaline fills my veins, my dread is shifting towards hope…

I wrote this past midnight.. my eyes kept on closing but I had to grasp to the idea.. :p (i’m a bit too insane) make sure to listen to dreams by fleetwood mac