Murder Monday.

Everyone hates mondays, not only because most of us have to get up and do stuff, mondays are hard, they last too much, they have awful weather, let's be honest no one really wants to talk on mondays... poor monday, so young and already getting so much hate. When you think about it is not really his fault, we as humans love so much the weekend that the poor monday gets hate just because of his poorly existence.

Now, the fact that this compilation of words has taken me over a week to write tells you how much I care about this particular day. To me mondays have a weird feeling, I don't talk too much, I don't have a lot of energy and I don't even wanna move, is like the worst day of life repeating itself over and over and over again.

Mondays never bring any good, I usually mess up things, break things, don't do important things and make my significant others mad on this particular day. Basically my life is ruined every monday, even when I don't mean for it to be that way. Now I don't intend for it to be that way and this same thing can happend in any other day, it actually changes from time to time... tuesdays, fridays, I guess it depends on me and how I react to whatever life gets around me.

Me writing about mondays is not really a surprise, tomorrow it's monday and not only that, my spring break it's so over and I did not do all of the college stuff I was supossed to, yay me! Such an inspiring student. But all of my work is not actually what's got me worried, I'm seeing a pair of amazing eyes tomorrow, a pair that I miss so much, my fear about this situation is clear, isn't it? I'm not a monday girl, I react poorly to this particular day, and worst of all... I lose my ability to talk, go me!

Anyway, this poor day is not the cause of my bad mood, speechless mouth, lazy body... bla bla bla, I guess it's just me refusing to commit and do the things I'm supposed to, I've always been focus, but now every new week makes me feel more lost, I'm just kinda hoping things will work our just fine on this particular monday, they really need to.

Wow, I said monday A LOT.

So far so probably maybe good.

I ask myself if the colours around me are good enough, if the sunset is what I need to delete everything and start over but his tones don't always look good enough, they don't always feel like the end of the day, I'm quite possitive about how the sunset should be a warning about the hours I have left and still I just stare at it asking for better colours. 

Maybe that's what makes me different from everyone and maybe that's what makes me as ordinary as anyone else. People need to ask for better colours otherwise they make a monotonous and pointless life not evey body does it and I believe that's why people gets bored of their lifes and kill themselves. I'm not thinking about killing myself, at least not at this moment so I guess the sunset gave me the exact colours I was looking for.

I can't stop myself from thinking if this story will repeat itself every day, if the red, yellow and orange will always be as perfect as I saw them today and the truth is maybe not, that's why I keep asking for brighter colours with perfect shades created by the clouds and maybe a drop of rain, just one so I don't have to repaint the rainbow, after all I've never really liked those colours.

                                                            Acapulco, my one true love.    

One million nights

A lot has happened, millions of things to say. It all began a bit more than a month ago but it feels like  a life time, like two old souls finding each other after looking for a million nights just to hold their hearts and share a bit of time.

The first night together was a complete rush, a sweet cold going trough their spine making her feel alive like never before. The perfect company he creates, the warm hug and the spontaneous kiss can give her a reason to live, a reason to start all over and fall in love one last time. This first night, this perfect first night will live in her memory for as long as the sun lives to give heat to the world. Maybe that way, the next time they see each other things can be different, maybe they'll try to find time on every corner of the world just to be together one more second.

Loving him is not always easy, there is always a fear, a constant reminder of his expiration date. How can her soul let him in? how can she fall in love with him knowing the days they have left...? Loving him is like smelling the first flower that comes to alive on spring, like feeling the first drop of rain touching her skin, loving him can only bring good to her, loving him... Loving him is the best thing that's ever happened to her. Perhaps that's the reason why the expiration date is not that important.

There was a second time, a second chance for their souls to conect. Her's is stubborn and spoiled, loving and caring, his, on the other hand, is smart and thoughtful, he knows how to love in the most amazing way giving everything and taking nothing back. His soul and heart are the two things she wants to know, she wants to fall in love so deep so nothing can make her unfall from it and still during this second time, her soul was distant, not sure why but she needed to come back and tell herself things were real, she couldn't believe things could be so perfect so she pulled away for a minute and considered everything just to find herself even more in love than the last time. 

She feels happy, every bone on her body is full with love, love that he inspires just by looking into her eyes. 

Their story is just starting but somehow it feels like its already a million nights old, sometimes it feels like he already knew her, sometimes she feels like they met before in the middle of a dream or maybe in another life. The truth is finding a soul like his doesn't happen so often and once you have it you should never let him go, losing him may be the worst imaginable thing... 

Deep.

It's hard to focus on something when an image is stuck in your head, mine has a million things inside but the most important one is a pair of eyes that have made me smile since the first time I saw them. There is something I don't quite get, I keep trying to understand how he can just look at me and say all those things without saying anything at all, he has that kind of look... the one that says it all just by staring.

Try to imagine a mirror that lets you see deep into your soul, a white page that writes itself when you touch it and tells you what you need to know... that's what I feel whenever he looks at me, I don't even know what is he thinking but I get this feeling, as if he could see every detail, every thought, maybe he can, maybe not...

I have issues.

There is a moment in every writer's life when the words are stuck in our heads, at least I hope I'm not the only one with this particular issue. The ideas seem to be blurry, all the letters are just floating around with no order, basically we just can't write anything with an actual path. 

Writing is what I do, what I truly love to do and when this part of my life is blocked that means something bigger is wrong. Right now my only problem is that I have no clue on what that could be, yes I am going on crazy mode. Usually when I see a white page, my head just starts to send words, everything comes out so easy, what makes me wonder if I'm writing about the correct subject. How can it be possible that I can write about not being able to write and the minute I try to type about my life, every single thought fades away?

I should just lay on the floor and close my eyes, breath and stop thinking. I believe in destiny and maybe I'm just not supposed to write about some stuff, I should keep it to myself and just never write it down.