It's not easy to be me

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
The better part of me

I'm more than a bird
I'm more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It's not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I'll never see

It may sound absurd
But don't be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed
But won't you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
It's not easy to be me

Up, up and away
Away from me
It's all right
You can all sleep sound tonight
I'm not crazy
Or anything

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me

It's not easy to be me

Five For Fighting - Superman (It's Not Easy)

I guess that isn't easy to be anyone, and especially ourselves, I tried hard, and harder, to just become something else that what I was, and finally when I didn't take any care about it, I realized that, I just living how I would to. So easy or not, I'm just me.

And now:

• What shall I do?
• Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Engage

I’ve been a wile, since my last post in this blog, but I was a little bit busy, and couldn’t get time to update it. Now I hope I’ll have enough time, lets see.

This year summer’s holydays where great, I’ve been in Ireland, a really amazing country, full of nature, culture, folk, and things to enjoy the two weeks that I spend there, I make some pictures that could be seen here:

(click)

My birthday was on 13 of September, and isn’t easy to got 30, some kind of break in my life, reminded with the significant sign of change the second digit of my age from 2 to 3.
I’ll come back soon, because they are many things that I’ll like to share, with the people that could reach my English blog, and more important with me. I always say that the best reader of a blog it’s the author itself.

(One of the two guys of the picture are Oscar Wilde, guest who?)

Problems

I fixed a little problem about publishing comments on this blog, I hope thats the reason because I got none until now, true or not, now it’s working ok.

Birches

Today I started to write again in my English blog, and this time I will not translate every post that I post in my Spanish blog, so I try to be more creative and original, but just for staring I put here one of my favourites poems.

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the line of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them 5
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells 10
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed 15
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. 20
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows— 25
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again 30
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away 35
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, 40
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.

So was I once myself a swinger of birches;
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood 45
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over. 50
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, 55
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches. 60

Robert Frost - Birches

Hours

(First at all I apologize, I’m not in a creative mood right now, and this text has born mainly because I forced myself to write something not just for inspiration, I promise to write more an better, soon.)

One hour, one minute, one second and everything was the same.

The old gray clock that hangs on the wall make the time pass with a cruel precision, meanwhile the world was dancing, guided with a invisible metronome that marked they steps with invisibles threads in the ankles.

For some people the time was nervous, like ants that run on your body when you started to fill so many things, passing so fast and without preoccupation, don’t allowing tasting the things that you like and making you be late to the places, except in those “see of” that always come early that what yours expected.

For others the slowness of the time was disturbing, always making to wait something, something that it’s late to came or never came, inflexible rhythm without a portion of compassion for the people that depends on it, the time marked the solitude and confidence that tomorrow it’s going to be something more.

For these many hate the time and they symbols and the old gray clock that hangs on the wall senses the frozen glance of those what pass near by, but he was proud with the precision of him work and know that for everybody was exactly the same time.

One day, one month, one year and everything was the same.

Forget

Today I don't want to talk, I'll be here, listening.

Ne me quitte pas
Il faut oublier
Tout peut s'oublier
Qui s'enfuit déjà
Oublier le temps
Des malentendus
Et le temps perdu
A savoir comment
Oublier ces heures
Qui tuaient parfois
A coups de pourquoi
Le coeur du bonheur

Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Moi je t'offrirai
Des perles de pluie
Venues de pays
Oÿ il ne pleut pas
Je creuserai la terre
Jusqu'après ma mort
Pour couvrir ton corps
D'or et de lumière
Je ferai un domaine
Oÿ l'amour sera roi
Oÿ l'amour sera loi
Oÿ tu seras reine

Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas - Jacques Brel

To somebody very special

To somebody very special.

Today I bring with me some of your sorrow, I would getting all and the you could relax, but I know that I couldn’t, I can’t make enough, just be your friend..

I know your aren’t well, the weight of the life flatten you, like everyone sometime you could pick four things, maybe none and escape to somewhere nothing matters even your own name.

You wish to simplify your life, making it simple, without those artificial things that are making it heaviness and saturate it, maybe you will no be more happy, but you prefer it to senses that you could never been happy again..


I could try to give you spirit, try to convince you that things could change, talking about that you could be happy or the solution its no to run, but I know that are that things you already know it.

I always appreciate you for you intelligence and I know that I not need to tell you the things that are obvious, its like underrate you, I will try to don’t do so. But I still believe that for everyone, sometimes it’s good that someone the reminder us things, even if we already know it, but I know that now isn’t the time, I appreciate more your tranquillity that anything else.

For thins I like to say you, before anything and against anything, that I’ll be there, where ever you where, I will no judge you, not evaluate you for anything you done, if you need to run just run, I get together you further, even if you need to escape about all, even I , I’ll have not scorn about it, How I could if I love you?

I understand you better that what I usually tell, even if I my sorrow make me be not to do so understand about your problems, and I some times play like evils lawyer trying to make you still fight and be here, how egoist we are for the things that tide us.


I don’t know nothing about tomorrow, only that tomorrow will come, the destiny and future are things to mucho big for me, the only thing I know, the only thing I’m sure, it’s about what I feel, what I have inside me, and that said me that I’ll near you always.

I your friend, that isn’t to much, I know it, but it’s all I’m.

Morning for waiting

Today it’s a morning for waiting.

I wake up early, even if I don’t have to, and I opened all the windows, even if I was cold, I sited on my couch with a cup of coffee, and I set Bruce on the stereo, then I curled up with a blanket and sited while I wait.

Sometimes I loved to wait, bean seated curled up with a blanket with all hours ahead, when they are many, drink careful a coffee and leave the fresh air for the early day refresh my face.

No the books that I have to read, no the short tales that I must continue to write, neither the task that still in half done, nothing cares now.

I like to be alone, sited without do nothing, with nothing happening, none a dream, o evocation.

But, I can’t do it well , I couldn’t bean all time like this, the still a lot of hours ahead, and my mind already wakeup and out of any prediction, today, Saturday I’m writing in my blog.

Today my waiting its like a little path, each hour it’s a few steps, each minute I reach a little, I star to see the destiny.

Today will be a meeting of old friends , the was some years that be could we all together, today its going to be a especially day and I know it, but I’m not nervous, I happy full of Joy and I like to say it.

Today I’ll give huge hugs and the most lovely kiss that my best friends grant to, today it’s going to be that day that the distance in the road doesn’t matter, I reach the destiny.


Today I’ll at home, with they I always be, don’t matter where be are.

Pages

Today I’ll write a letter with invisible ink, full of good memories, from the things I loved, and the things that I still have inside me and will be not for forgetting, just to write my last poem with it, to joy with the power of words and memories.

I will do it with a paper that I really like it, those you search when you want to say something nice to someone special, and I choose it with softness, I don’t to be sober, but also don’t be to showy.

I think in every word, in every sentence, like if I composed a melody, I’ll read it until I find myself singing it without notice, and then I’ll dance it for a while, until my legs fell down.

Then I’ll put on it ever sentence, every letter, with softness but with decision, and I sing it with all my names, the ones I was, the ones I’m , the ones that I’ll never be again, putting mi kiss, my tears and sign with it.

Then I put on my baggage, that I used for little travels, that have been with me so long, and so many times, the one that saw so much about me that sometimes It’s know me better that myself.

And one day, when my feet touch again the border of a beach, I’ll put on the water, let the see take it within, going ever where it want to go, the nice its no only have it, no only wrote it, no only brought it, sensed it and specially remember it.

Today I begin to turn the page.

Musical Brothers

Everyone childhood was marked with little moments, things that happens and people who influence us, some of then are evident, like a. scar in a smooth kin, and others more subtle, even inappreciable, like a memory of a name that now be don’t even know, but some how its strangely familiar.

I try hard in show my small world to my brothers, no for make they been like a copy of me, just to given they more choices that then ones that everybody could choose. Nowadays they own world it’s big and a I see little part of the things I loved in there.

I remember perfectly that to me was happened the same, in same way, part of the music I listen its influence by my bigger sister, even some of the books that I read where I was a child, I happy to see that our little worlds are replicate and share within we love.

Some years ago I brought my sister to home to show they Madrid city for a weak, we went to see my favorites places, at that moment, and many others places that I consider that they could liked, once was a Musical.
My passion for Musicals its parade with my passion for movies, I transmitted to my sisters some years ago, they only been in small plays y small theatres and they never been in nothing similar as a Musical, and that time they was in Madrid “Beauty and the Beast” so I decided that its could be a greet manner to show something that they don’t know.

Be bought a good tickets, I don’t usually see they in many time so I spend money without thinking how much its, and we went to the theatre with a lot of illusion, we where a few meters from the scene and in the air we smell like theatre smelt, they were nervous and the couldn’t be quiet in they chairs, and I laugh for happiness because they illusion that they has to went to the play.

Lights go down and the orchestra star to play, and was like magic, they sited and listen the music without saying a word, they have red cheeks of happiness, and they moving the little feet according the music, I have recorded in my memory they surprise faces for the spectacular thing they saw, the dances, choreography light and sound.

Between two acts my little sister said with a true illusion: - Juan, this it’s like cinema, but for real-.

They make me to sensed that I’m the best brother in the world, even If I’m not, and nowadays when we spoke, even its was a long time ago, they tell me that If they come to Madrid we go to see one musical.

Live it’s a musical.