Your eyes see this picture,

And you start to fall in love with it

It’s so pretty, it’s so perfect,

Because you’re not in the picture

And you want to be in it,

But you’re not and that makes you empty and hollow

And you’re forever in search of that clean edged image

But it’s like chasing a departed dream,

And it’s so much easier trying to touch a dream with your eyes closed

Than live its absence with your eyes open.


bet time and space

Here’s a voice within you that whispers when you wake up Every morning, every afternoon, every evening That this is wrong for you, This is not the place, nor time, And you feel like your age and number are a disease. Kinda estranged, kinda like you don’t belong, you never did and you’re afraid you never will. No connection to anything, you’re not rooted but you don’t flow It’s like you’re stuck in a different place every time you chase a cloud. And so many clouds you are after, which is bigger, which is brighter. Make up your mind kid. You gonna die trying to find it, when it was in your face all along, But you were too blind to see it. Insecurity and uncertainty, 2 ingredients of your youth, Just add some loneliness and anxiety, Swallow the sleeping pills, one, two, endless noisy thoughts, one more, three dissolved. The movie on your eyelids is in slow motion.

Not NineTeen forever

I fell down the rabbit hole. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. Don’t get me wrong, being in your twenties is awesome and awful at the same time, and I am just starting to build the foundation, but no one’s there anymore to tell you or give you a hand at placing the bricks.

Everything is a contradiction.

The world outside unveils as a sort of picturesque screen shot from that movie we all have seen too many times played on TV on Sunday mornings and the weight of the world awaits at the end of credits. Feeling like the whole world is at your feet like you can grasp it in your fist, on the other hand, the weight of it crushes you.

When Alice wasn’t able to get out of that room, though the key was there, because she was too big or either too small to grab it and unlock the tiny door, everything was going backwards for her, and the only escape was through that door when she had to fit so she can go out. And the rest of her journey was a maze of madness and all impossible things counted before breakfast.

You are somewhere in between, thrown in a new environment, not the child that your mom used to tuck to bed, nor the adult that has a career and fully supports himself, and knows just a bit of how things need to work out.

Tragedies seem bigger than they really are, when a piece falls so are the others, the domino effect draws in your mind the collapse of your mechanism.

The anxiety follows you along the way, exams are harder, relationships become complicated and emotions confine you to numbness and fear.

You’re always comparing yourself, trying to change, to find your place, and you end up in red when you realise that you wanted to chase the pink, because that’s your colour.

Isn’t the biggest drama when your one-night stand doesn’t text you after, after that internship interview that you wanted so much comes the rejecting email, when you miss the train, or when your white clothes become grey? Well, guess what? Bad days will come like subways in the metro station, but at the end of the day, everything magically settles by itself. The Universe’s design is made not to fail. I think there’s a reason why things happen the way they do. It gets you the point of change, of realising, of growing. You’re never in the same place, you’re not the same person today that you were yesterday.

Because how can you know happiness without suffering? Black-and-white isn’t just a colour effect to your Instagram photos.

As you can see, I am a bit of a drama queen, a whiny bitch, though I hope you don’t nod your head right now. But, I can step aside from all that, and see the light that cracks through the dark.

If before I told you that being on your own, independent self, apart from home means encountering new responsibilities, it also sets you on a freedom path, with new discoveries and brings you closer to creation of self. You’re figuring things out bit by bit, you make mistakes but you’re learning from them, no regrets, just experience, and every piece of the puzzle in this mad times is clinging to your definition of who you are.

Even with the risk of sounding cheesy or cliche or both in fact, you’re gonna fall, but you’re gonna get up and fucking look where you’re going so you won’t fall again.

Open up your mind and embrace all things that come to you, bad or good, it’s a lesson or a nice memory, it’s a moment that shouldn’t be seen as a regret, but a step forward in your path.

Alice sang and danced and played, and cried and modified herself many times in her journey, she encountered peculiar characters, situations which quite put her at trouble. Nevertheless, she found adventure and she gained wisdom, and in all the madness and confusion of “Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle.” well, ‘Begin at the beginning,’ […]‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’


Dark and naked.

Unreal feelings.


I couldn’t see you.

I could only feel your hand drawing the line of my body.

I’ve tried holding my eyes open to grasp you in my sight,

but I was blinded by the night’s veil as I wear them weary in my frazzle.

So warm a skin

such beating so fast a heart trying to get out of a chest.

You got me an electric heartache,

how did I fall with this hurt named with the letters I can only whisper to myself?

And when I first met you, you came along with a sign that says Heed

I’ve never realised until now that you are a pitstop. And I’ve been telling myself that pitstops are ok in the race of life, but I’ve been here a time, too long a touch, it’s already dark and cold and you left me bare and alone.

“Does he treat you well? Because I don’t.”

You said to me in the car, after midnight, when we were heading towards your place, to find once again that lust is just a game of pull in and out. No tune of mercy sang on the lips that devil may kiss.

“Everyone does.”

I guess you won, after all.

As the rain keeps pouring, I feel drained and dissolved in the mist of sunrise,

There’s no sun, just a pale reflection,

There’s no rise, just a fall,

and it’s all gray and cold, like in a picture of Henri Cartier-Bresson.

The woe on my lips and the frazzle on my eyelids,

the heaviness of it embraces my layers, one by one,

like a disease spreading and infecting.

I keep getting smaller and smaller,

no desire to struggle,

serenity unveils,

let me lay around with you, beside you, on you.

Let us imagine the stars from our bedroom window as they used to shine in a day without rain.

Growing up

How are things going, kid?

Do you remember the pieces that you left behind ,

In a box carefully put in the dark of your childhood wardrobe?

You forgot the glue that sticks them together,

The jigsaw puzzle is quite scattered

In forgotten corners of your memory,

And now it all comes down to the choices that you make as an adult.

Can you remember the way mother wore her lipstick

Like now she wears her regrets,

The glasses are bigger, the wine keeps pouring.

She gave up smoking when she had you, but now when she’s alone and

Things that she can’t cope with no more turn into cigarettes and the cough,

The way she curled her hair and your desire to be that reflection,

You would hide in her room when she was gone,

Dress in her skirts, going through her make-up and putting on her heels,

How many years until I can be like you?

But the road you’re running on goes in another direction,

it’s not made from the same stones,

and you’re not made the same,

and you know your stardust shines in a different light than your generations before.

Unashamed and selfish,

You want so much more, more than you can grasp,

On your path, you wonder, are you doing the same mistakes?

You’re calling everything an experience because you fear shading your regrets on the line of your lips.

Are they different?  Are they worse?

Walking so much for them to find out you can’t draw blood from a stone.

You fight so hard for independence and solitude,

But Sundays always find you drowning in the sorrow of being lonely.

You’re a contradiction, you beg for love and acceptance,

But you’re so hard to handle, always in love with your misery,

And anchored by ghosts, that you can’t see, they’re not there,

But you think of them all the time,

Ain’t the sky clear,

When all the stars are covered by fire and smoke.

It’s been a fight all your life,

From the first man who made you question your existence,

To the never-ending why.

You were never there, so I had to learn how to run alone,

On a deserted highway

And when you came, you came crushing and tearing

So I wonder, in every encounter

From you, I learned to taste the cold on their lips,

Those who do not wish to stay,

To unfold my silence and my words,

Those who made me taste the saltiness of darkness

Never held me in your arms,

Couldn’t get out of bed for days.

An endeavor to kiss their lips to find out they taste of loneliness and rejection.

Selling myself short, only to lie to myself in finding love.

You’re not curling your hair like your mother,

But you love the same as her,

An icy touch to delay the ache of your soft heart,

the burning soul wanders into the naked night