Tonight, I’m inside my head. It is quiet and dim and far from peaceful. I’m writing this, not with feeling, not with thought, but with numbness. And I’m afraid that if I close my eyes, I’ll see what’s inside my head: a burning sensation of being extinguished. No taste, no color.

I’m lost somewhere, and what I am now is only a wraith. I don’t want to close my eyes and maybe I don’t want to be found. Where do I find my taste and color? Where do I find you?

All I see grew darker, but it was my eyes that slowly lost the light. It’s all monochrome now.

I’m inside my head. Soft music is playing and a light is fading. I will die a thousand times tonight, and it’s only gonna make me more tired.




A Gift from Morpheus

Minutes had turned to hours before I was able to fall asleep, but these hours in my dark room were overshadowed by a certain feeling of longing. I shut my eyes and let sleep engulf me, trying to put an end to the feeling, the hours; but it was no end.

The feeling, it seems, had seeped into my sleep. Nevertheless, Morpheus did me a kindness: my longing was satisfied in an astonishing dream. And while the memory of the dream had faded fast just after I woke up, the satisfaction lasted nonetheless.

It is just a dream after all. But maybe its significance lies in its outcome.


Possibilities of Different Colors


The empty canvas or the iridescent; what we choose to show is perceived subjectively, and without the proper explanation, one perception may render my empty canvas something it is not. An explanation is a limit, however. To one person, it is a unique complexity; to another, it is a simple virtuosity. But all the possibilities form an ulterior beauty: it’s never the same for each and every person.

There are numerous days in which I’m an empty canvas, and an explanation is demanded; I’m not good with explanations. I no longer have the energy to provide them. And the possibilities, in this instance, terrify those who demand the explanation. They see something they don’t understand… and they are terrified and distressed. Can you blame them?

It is merely a conflict; a conflict of colors and no colors at all. How do you perceive those who choose colors and those who choose none?!

Whether I am the empty canvas or the iridescent one, I, with all my heart, and all my soul, need to be both; to be every color and no color at all. 

It is essential to be subject to all possibilities, to be limitless; with no explanation. Alone, I choose to be dark blue. With you, I chose to be lime green. And with them, I was colorless.