Sometimes

Sometimes you just got to admit it to yourself, you need to stop working for somebody else.
Stop selling so cheap the precious seconds that life is made of. I want to know the stuff that you are made of.
Yes, I got somewhere and I did it all by myself, I said,
but I wasn't alone, not for one second of the game.
You need eyeballs in every side of your head,
don't miss the parallel stories, don't loose the plot
you might have to catch that train to remain sane,
come on, fill the spot.
As we keep playing the trading game,
we trade remarks, laughs, smiles, livers and brains we trade,
I keep thinking I'm too aware to loose myself.
Yes, to know the stuff that dreams are made of,
show me the stuff that keeps them close.
Once you get there you'll be happy for ever,
keep telling that to yourself
the biggest fattest lie Ive ever heard...
Sometimes I use some days just to let my thoughts breathe and they go for walks,
It may seem strange as this doesn't happen in the outside world,
But if I went to the street with my mind on a leash,
I would certainly choke.
The rain falls constant and steady,
follows a pace, as if the one before was ready
committing suicide against the windshield, pointless.
It looks like what the passing of time feels like.
DROP, SECOND, DROP, SECOND, DROP...
I offered my hand, again and again
they grabbed my elbow, whose to blame?
Sometimes I imagine,
what a soldier in the front line must feel like
you hurt like a bullet, straight to the heart.
You tried to grab time and keep it,
you spent every waking second
transforming empty instants into empty actions,
playing with the sand of time with no ratios.
You could not pace yourself,
you had to jump, straight ahead in the race...
You're running out of fuel,
but you still remained first
still vain and scared to age.
You told me that I should leave you to figure things out for yourself,
all I see now is a robot,
that doesn't make his bed.
You keep trying to lock time,
but time is fate,
it chases your ankles, not your success.
No jar can contain it,
No place can contain you
and no mind can contain me.
You ran away, again
I'm not going to wait for you... like a snail waiting for an arrow
your scape was narrow
but you lost your compass on the way.
Sometimes there is no place for a paced heart beat in your game.

When the music is over...

and there is dishes and glasses and pieces and mind flashes to pick up,
that's where I exist, inhabit, hide and chill.

The moment when the fun is over and a hug is needed, find me there.

now that the excitement has worn out, and a week of no-studying has ended, and all the beautiful young people are tired and ready to rest it down... they are.
find me in the useless struggle to keep it clean and cool and fresh and light and new and pure and away from the corrosive liquids of a deceiving smile.

I find other sides of every one's heart in every turn of the face,
some hide and are safe, some run and are safe, some avoid and are safe,
but not for long.
That thing finds us all.

Understatement...

Find a road, start to walk... what direction? what for?
Follow the beat of your heart? Yes, let it speak. You're still young, you're still sweet...
Let your understated dreams jump to the forefront scene. Forget the views of those, who don't know whats good for us.
Let your heart take the place of you president and your mayor. Give your shoes the place of the tube.
Be always thristy.
Look at the floor when you walk every now and then. Look at her face, not at her clothes.

Words that collide into worlds...

The world you go and get every morning, is different from the world I end up getting in the afternoon.
Your eyes are different. You're so warm, I'm so lost. You are so vain... I'm turning into you. Stop me before the edge.
Tell us the story, I know you're not boring. Lyrics thrown into the disjointed words of a deep heart. A deep aching self that found others... Other colourful ones. So young, so young. Oh but he thinks he's the king of the world. And she thinks she's fantastic. And so many words creates those worlds.
The one you get every morning and I pick up every evening. And then you join me and then you smile and I make you feel down and then I give you my heart, my attention, my dreams once again.
You, me, the colours. For ever your face in my memory, and yours too and your name in the tips of my fingers. And our hands still ache from all that work. All that creating and destroying we did, was exhausting.
and love keeps coming and going, deep, shallow... shallow worlds that collide and become without wanting it, deeper.

azile.

I saw

I saw what I needed to keep me awake and to make me sleep.
I saw the past and future inter cross in the shape of a old man skipping ropes.
I saw my own mouth talking to me in a foreign language and begging me to understand that what was outside was what was the inside as well.

I saw my own shadow run to embrace yours
as my body stayed motionless on the floor.

I saw the line between a tall rock and the sea,
clashing, splashing, creating the most visually musical landscape of drops I've ever seen.

And the old sun shinning above, making everything clear.

I saw you stealing a bar of gold
from the pocket of misery
and sell it for the highest price to hope.

I saw the fire burning your ankles that made you dance all night.
I saw the stain and I saw the scar.

I saw your pain contained in a jar.
I saw war through the eyes of mud, stepped over, only able to make you slip and fall.
I saw you leave.

I saw the world through a magnifying glass.
I made it gigantic and bang. big bang.

I saw skies of black obsidian, splashed with morning dew in the middle of the night.

I saw the man with the suitcase on his way to court
courting your fear, taking your faith and your glow.

I saw my own smile in the mirror and it made me laugh some more. It was like hidden sadness, sadness and hope.

I saw a chainsaw run and felt unable to believe, believe you, believe this...

I saw ageing in a girl I saw ageing in a plant.
I saw my own eyebrows changing shape. I said Ill do it tomorrow but clocks don't wait.

I saw a year pass, everyone thought it was the last.
But the earth only spanned once.

azile x

Starting Again...

Reality became a mangled cloud of fog and pink smoke.
I needed to start again, to purify, to step back and think... outside of the seemingly exit-less situation.
I couldn't run away. How can you run again from yourself? Too much information entered my little brain, every single cell and neuron wanted to run away.
The camera. The broken eyebrow. The Art Gallery. All together on the same day.

Some might say, its just a visit to the TATE and a day in the pub. Trust me, it was so much more than that.

'I wish I was someone else' Its not an uncommon phrase in the lips of a teenage girl. Truth is, you can't. All comes down to your own self. Your own perception of whatever this is. And its horribly beautiful. And its yours. And I want to start again. Right this second. Now. Today. I want to breath deeply and not feel broken and broke. And feel free. And use this perception to perceive all that the world is.

azile

Running away from...?

Today, I've seen Usein Bolt run. He's a 6 Foot 5 Olympic Jamaican runner. He makes it all look so easy. He looks so free when he runs, he runs and wins effortlessly. I'm not a fan of sports, ha! me? I prefer Pool and yoga.
Thing is, with this Olympic winners and world champions, they are nice people. You know why? Because they know how much effort it takes to get to the top, they know... pain. They know endurance and resistance. They know so many things us mortals take for granted or ignore most of the time. Let's take the people around me today, earlier on this Sunday at my local pub. Loads of families having lunch, some couples, friends... they have this undeserved smug look to themselves. Most of them are overweight and have a look that says 'I deserve and WANT it all' Like spoiled children. First world people look like the spoiled children of mummy 'time of abundance' and daddy 'easy access'. This greedy people want and get usually the following non-essentials: new television set. check. designer crappy clothes to cover their gigantic bodies. check. holidays somewhere (usually Spain). check. £67.000 debt on credit cards. check. You see, athletes don't have those problems, those superficial needs or those worries... They know effort, perseverance, patience and all those other boring words that most people can't even find a meaning to.
Athletes from poorer smaller anonymous nations, like Jamaica here, they become celebrities, they've done something a very tiny selected few of us will ever do: they've broken barriers.
My dear audience, why not look at runners and jumpers for inspiration instead of increasing so rapidly the size of your belly guts, I ask? why? WHY?
If you're not that into sports its OK, neither am I and I can still see what this people do and can give... I'm sure we all have a potential perfect physique that can be develop if we worked out a bit... yeah Im sure... and whilst you're in that Mr gym (you know who you are) improve that brain of yours as well, a personality will get you more girls.
When I grow up, I want to be like Usein Bolt and be a Jamaican celebrity.

x
azile