Given heartbreak

You don't get anything until you are... erm... given it.
You don't wait, waiting is an illusion, you really just prepare yourself. You make your body/mind/self/anything ready for whatever it is that comes next. Because it is nothing but a surprise. An awaited birthday and Christmas, every time. In my case... It came in the shape of an unexpected mini heartbreak. Oh did I not Expect to give it all away and stay trembling in the light of a boy who doesn't care. Not me. I have seen it all pretty much. I still remain naive. Now I sit in the light of a monitor knowing nothing but to spill what his brief visit to my insides did to me. If it stopped being his birthday (right now) for a very short time... and I could go back to my careless facce... and saying that that is a bad topic is a light. inspiration comes back in the shape of a rhyme or a rap. complexity of feelings, or future destiny and mind. so sharp. I always ignored what caused me harm, as the natural reaction that I think everyone does... I expected for him like valleys expect water. I gave him so much, but premature flowers never get to fill the quota. I am a lonely pioneer. Expect the new frontier and kip-nap all that's dear. Only alone I will ail the pain. Oh yes, it is you and me, we meet, again.

And his name is....

The first time I saw him when I got off the plane,
was when I knew, I would never be the same
and everything started with his scent.
He smelt of fog and fags
as the gentleman he is, he offered me a cab
he looked centuries old,
tall and historic
far to old for me, but well kept and heroic,
but when I got to know his corners,
he was a teenager doing graffiti
and a good skate boarder.
He took me to the same first dates, he surely takes all the others,
he shows his achievement and calls himself a monument holder.
He has plenty of jewels under a lock
and I'm sure everyone has seen his great big clock...
and his gardens are well kept,
worthy of a queen, he said.
He knows everything when it comes to the arts,
but when you get to know him better, you find he's also involved in gangs.
Its impossible to look at him and not fall in love...
he is tolerant and makes you feel at home
something about him makes you never get bored
and if you ride the tube, you find in his singularity,
every face and every story in the world.
He shines in the summer and stands proud,
he likes to seat in pub gardens and cue with crowds.
Just like me he loves music,
seeing him hold parties in the park is the most amusing.
When it comes to business he set a side of himself for it.
He wears a suit and stands tall,
I haven't yet cracked his billionaire number world.
He drinks larger and likes to party all night
he has a corner for every princess and every rat
and together we get lost and dance....
If you have money and you have him,
nothing is an impossibility.
Most days he goes to work hung over
and his dry sense of humour makes you feel lower,
but you have to understand his dark charm
to fall in love and get a flat, in his arm.
We moved in together,
his bad mood causes bad weather,
he takes far too much of my money,
some days makes me feel like its not worth it,
but then he insists and he is always on time
and I slave myself, just to be with him again.
But don't get me wrong, I'm not a masochist,
its just that with him,any dream can exist!
He makes you beautiful, he has everything I like,
he is packed with theaters and he is packed with brands
but he knows the rules in hand,
nothing with him is free...
I dance right in his hands but still feel free to be.
Some say he is unfriendly,
but I know this man
somewhere in him, there is space for everyone.
He speaks all languages and he also talks slang.
If you catch him angry he shouts in cockney
and he moves fast, fast for money.
He holds all the seriousness of an old gentleman on his shoulders,
but he makes you draw outside the boarders.
I'm afraid that if you make me choose,I will not let him loose
the sunniest beaches don't compare to his melancholy.
He's survived black death,
he survived chicken pox
and dare I say, also a few bombs,
and his name is....
well his name is LONDON.

azile x
photo by Ian Veretilo

the marathon results....

to see the previous posts results, visit my other blog, never too late's sister, the neon suitcase: http://neonsuitcase.blogspot.com/

Ready?No.GO!

Today my art marathon has started. I did a painting today after a long time. It felt amazing. I spent my whole Sunday night sitting on the floor painting. Kanye West's Lights Flashing was the perfect soundtrack for the finishing of the painting. The London MArathon was ran today too. Art-Marathon it is. It has started. Ready? No... GO!

Queens in the making

Isolation. Because the world around you does nothing but confuse you. You forgot what your own voice sounds like. You talk in movie quotes, slogans, old quotes, new quotes, streaming slang, anything.. but your thoughts. My thoughts, you think, and that makes you want to shut down. Hybernate. Plainly hide. Spend some much needed time, an eternity perhaps, with yourself. But that turns into a trap, if you immerse yourself too much into your self. So much that both the words you say and the words you hear in reply have the same tone, the same music, and come from the same mouth. You stop recognizing the world outside, the solid things that you fought for, desired, craved or feared...
Then you stop recognizing your own body. Your own hands look foreign... Your thoughts drift so, so far away.
I got out and paid a high price for a decent conversation. I gave up my kingdom. I let my bubble kingdom burst. That apple of knowledge looked so tasty. I thought I could do better if I knew better.
But what for do we need know more words to articulate the same feeling of being lost, loneliness, human-ness. Isolation threatens to be the only exit again. Run.
I remained a queen in the making, blow me another bubble. Waiting to conquer the inventions and questions of ancient minds. Craving the ideas built on ideas of ideas of ideas of bodies that don't even recognise themselves.
Needless words... I pursue your crown and not the crown of gold.
Daydream into a higher dream, day dream into can, want, wish.
I now pride myself in not trying normality, in not being grounded, in being alone and almost permanently misunderstood. Shine with your alien halo. Beautiful. I walk not knowing where I go. Walk.
That's when you let yourself know that you have a chase, to the kingdom of truth.
There are no castles, let alone buildings. Only uncertainty and an empty field, as vast as imagination can push it. Infinite. Filled up with nothing but potentiality, what will be? Let anything be. Possibilities fill your mind like water water the watery plant, a stream of possibilitites. That mind cant recognize its own hands, its own body, its own instrument of existence.
I wanted to tell you how I feel, but my mouth needs no human ears... it needs a heavenly microphone to shout out till my voice is gone and there's is nothing but silence, silence is the only answer now.
She will be queen, he will be king and then they will vanish and disappear, and progress will be a good name to tag the legacy of confusion they left us.

Give it a go today

you say its hard to get up from bed,
it seems that once you get used to something,
its time to change...
you drag yourself around, like a bag full of pains,
you don't want to look up, in case it rains...
you wrap yourself in layers of all kinds of stuff,
thicker and thicker each time,
not just in case of the cold
but you run from the touch of love.
you frown so much,
your forehead looks like a tree bark,
you are afraid of fires when you see sparks...
you do the same thing, again and again
and postpone your dreams, put them up in shelves
you walk around feeling small, tiny like an elf
I tell you, I ask you
give it a go today
don't drag your feet, run instead
stop looking for the sky on the floor, lift your head
don't frown any more, flirt and smile
sit on a sledge and let life slide.
to be numb is not better than to feel pain,
to be numb is to waste a heart, a life, time and a brain...
go out get messy, get some stains
dont stay in that bubble of cyclic thoughts
im here today, give it a go
you can go back to bed tomorrow if you didnt like the taste,
but please i beg you, dont turn your life into a waste.

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.