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SARAH MCLACHLAN - FUMBLING TOWARDS ECSTASY

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Song Of The Month All the fear has left me now   I'm not frightened anymore.  It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh.  It's my mouth that pushes out this breath  And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  I won't fear love  And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  I won't fear love.  Companion to our demons  They will dance and we will play.  With chairs candles and clothes  Making darkness in the day.  It will be easy to look in or out  Upstream or down  Without a thought  And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  I won't fear love  And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  I won't fear love.  Peace in the struggle to find peace.  Comfort on the way to comfort  And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  I won't fear love  And if I feel a rage I won't deny it  I won't fear love.  I won't fear love.  ...

Until I figure it out

Until I figure it out, the pages of this life will remain blank,  they will have no color, no background, no format,  they will be no more that a plain white paper layout,  a vacant page in a book, waiting to be filled with form, shapes, swirls and stars,  with life most beautiful havoc that will turn everything marvelous;  now, for the time being, this blog shall reflect the pages of my life,  for this reason its layout will remain,  white, blank, vacant.

The Black Widow's Lair: Memories

The Black Widow's Lair: Memories : Memories are the trickiest thing ever. At least that is what I think right now. Too often our hearts, or maybe it's our brains, immortalize ...

A long lost letter...

My dearest Peter: How   have  I deeply missed you, I can no longer seem to remember when you were last here or when I last saw you, it is all slowly turning in to a blur, could we next time maybe stay for little longer?, it all feels as if I am gradually forgetting the details of our many adventures together, there have been times when I could not even seem to remember the way back to the trees, I worry this would be a growing condition, I keep mixing up or confusing the names of the lost boys, I regularly get glimpses of a memory, a memory I can not seem to remember but one I can not seem to forget either, they often come to me as the shapes in a shadow, or a slight smell, an unknown flavor, a gentle breeze, or a peculiar tick on a clock, I no longer have the time to stop and gaze up at the stars and remind my self you are...
I am under the impression that I'm about to lose you forever... and this realization makes me deeply sad...
I wanted to write something clever,  but it seems I have left my inspiration  in my other jacket...
En ocaciones las cosas que decimos o hacemos significan poco para nosotros, sin embargo pueden significar un mundo para quien nos escucha...