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Think about
a piece of that soul of ours

Think about it
belonging forever to me

How would it feel
to know,
to know deep in your heart,
that your forever mine?

Would it be a mess
for us two?
Somethig like heaven
or like hell?

Think about
a piece of my soul
and how would it feel
to  call it a piece of your own

Would it be a mess
for you or for me?

Think about it
hell
think about it
like a mess

But think also
of you and me
belonging to each other
for eternity

Would it be worth it?
or would it be just madness?

Nameless

I don't think I've eve beheld something beautiful in me life
nor did I ever stored a gentle thought
or utter a nice word

But everyone says I love you
and that it shows
and it shows on my face
and how I walk around you
or how I savour your name

I don't think it is really that way
in which I convey my love

Because it is true I love you
but no with gestures,
nor with the steps I take,
or with how I utter your name

But I do love you
when I try to keep that name of yours
inside of me
or when I run from you
so you can see
when I want to see you

And most of all
I love you
when I feel almost sure
you're the only beautiful thing
I ever beheld

I love you
because I think that thinking "I love you"
it's something
like a gentle thought

And I love you
because I long to repeat
the nice words
you've said to me
"I love you and
I love you
and I
love you,
and I wanted you
to know"



It's not so bad... is just bad
note.- so before I continue, this is an scene for my story about water people.



We stand there in the middle of all this forest, trees surrounds us, branches get stick in our clothes and then pop out, the birds fly away when we come near them, though some of them stays there making idle sounds. Fallen leaves rustle as we step on them, strange animals here and them make little noises and the wind speaks through the trees. Sings.


I look up to him and he is staring back at me, steady, intent… like he is just trying to figure me out.

-It's music, don't you feel it? Running down your arms? – He just keep staring at me, because what can he possible say to me when I make no sense? - It's beautiful. – His eyes flicker with something I don’t recognize - It's life, its soul. Heaven. God, even. You must feel it.- I say, agitated, because I want him to understand me but I do not know how to make him.

After a few breaths I can see clear what it is that is in his eyes; something fierce but tender, like hunger, like fighting but something very much like surrender. All the walls he made are gone now, for this seconds, in the middle of the woods.

-I’ve been wanting, waiting for you to listen.

I stand still, no wanting to move but wanting to reach out for him, too. I feel my fingers move, my hand rising only a few millimeters, it is so little but already I feel like touching him.

-Have you ever let yourself blank out? Just… stare into nothing? – He says. Of course I have but I can’t do anything to let him know, - just the other day I was here, you know? I sat there, right in the place where you are now… staring without seeing, hearing without listening. And out of the blue you were there. Walking toward me. Saying my name. I saw you and listened to you, as clear as I do know. The illusion didn’t disappear until I blinked and since then I’ve been trying to make it happen again. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t.

I open my mouth to speak but I really don’t know what to say. A bird flies between us and I realize my hand is freeze but still in his direction, he sees it at the same time that I do and if it is even possible his eyes mix with two very different things again. Something fierce. Something tender.

-Why did you go? – He asks, hardened, I shake my head. I won’t tell, he seems to respect that. - Why did you come back?

He sounds like out of breath and suddenly I feel the same way. I take a breath as deep as I can and I answer with the only true I hold – You,- he staggers just a little bit – I came back because of you.-

There.

I can breathe again.

It feels right.

For a few moments neither of us speak, it feels right too.

-So you say this is music? – He finally asks as he runs a hand through a branch creating a symphony and I hear a tease in his voice. I nod, trying to appear solemn, so my voice won’t be miss – Better than mine?.

I smile – Of course, though you should come here and try to make a duet.

-Would you stay here to listen?

-Only for the forest’s parts sake – He takes a step towards me and I feel my smile falter into something better and I know it happens the same with him; he is serious now, no more teasing, but I know his lips must be tickling with the same need that I feel, that our lips have to be on top of the other’s.

-And what about me? Would you stay for me? – I don’t know how it happened but suddenly we’re more close than we ever been, his right hand barely touching my waist, like he isn’t quite sure, and the other hovers just barely above from where my cheek meets my neck, very close to my ear and I feel so alive with the little that is that. All of my world feels alive and breathing and full.

My mouth moves to form my answer but more that saying I nod…

and oh he is sure.

His hand pulls me close and the one in my cheek finally touches me and he uses it as a guide so that his lips can meet mine. And we’re kissing, he to me and I back to him.

-With me? – He ask between kisses.

Yes, I respond between breaths.

And this is music, too, of a better kind.
 
He has his hands in each side of my hips and though it looks like he might, he is not kissing me. It feels like hearing music with just one earphone on. It does not feel complete.

An All

I deliver everything you know, but
I am not what you think I am.
Long ago this battle was won;
Long ago I govern over you.
All of you

I am the one that gives you hope
And love and safety
Bu I am the one that breaks your heart
I'm the one who brings misery
You can't see me but I am fear and danger

You love me
and you love me not
I give you everything you know
And I take everything I want
Don't call me evil because I am an all.

Do not even try to see me
Do not pray to me
Do not give me any sacrifice
For there is nothing that it's in your control
I am the one who choose,
The one who rules.

At last

It is morning and it is cold; nothing out of normal.

Everything looks the same; everything it's the same, or so they say in the radio, but I can breath something in the air, something thick and rare. 

It smells, like it smells when bad things are about to happen, somehow I know it, even when it's truly strange and unfamiliar.

I get out of bed and when my bare feet touch the floor, a cold shudder goes up and down my spine, but it isn't exactly the cold that causes it but the feeling that this is a bad day to get out of bed. I try to remember which day is this; if it is first in the month or if it is twenty-something or whatever, but I realize I don't remember the month itself, nor the year.

I take a look around the room and everything it's different; the color of the walls donesn't match he colors of the night before, the titles of the books on the shelves are strange and I don't remember myself reading them before, but I know what they say and I know the authors' favorite and most used words.

I walk around looking at everything with new eyes, or better say, looking everything that's new with an odd knowledge of them.

I found a stack of photos in a desk that isn't mine, I don't remember taking those pictures but my hearts flutters when I see the woman in them, the one I know the way she kiss, even when I don't know her. I flipper around smiles I smiled and places that somehow  I enjoyed.

Everything it's strange and scarry and somehow right and somehow wrong.

I go to the window and I try to look at it but everything ta I can see it's something like white foam blocking the view, I go to the next room and I try to do the same. It's impossible, I'm trapped. And everything it's so, so different. I still go to the next room, that was a bathroom but it is no more. It's empty.

I turn around. Everything it's once again different, the hallway it's put in a newly rare way and even the doors along the walls are in different colors, even diferent shapes.

My back finds the wall and slips along it until I'm sitting on the floor. I close my eyes and there's nothing I can do but to wait here.

I wait and I wait. And I keep waiting here. Waiting for something to make sense.

And as I do I'm quoting the phrases and the dialogues and every word of the books I've never read, or at least I don't remember reading.

Finally, finally, it all takes form and all falls into place... and the walls disappear

...and there's only white foam.

I start to remmeber the day before and how I remebered the day before that, and how I remembered.

It's all getting back and I'm seeing everything as it is, this is not my house, and the wall in which my back it's supporting it's not concrete made, but it's white and it's not soft really, but no hard either.

And finally, again, I lay down on the floor ad I mourn for my sanity and I go to sleep knowing that everithing will be different tomorrow.

I close m eyes knowing that tomorror will be happening the same thing; it will be cold and the walls aren't going to be quite right, the books are going to be others and everithing I'll know will be new, a thing of mine but more a thing of the day... a thing of what's wrong with me.

At last I go into blackness knowing, sure, that tomorrow won't be a good day to get out of bed.
So, the time has come for me to do the list that no one cares about!!! MY 2012 FAVORITE YA BOOKS!

I think in someway this hasn't been the most awesome year for me in terms of reading, I started the years reading not-so-great-books, a mean, some were nice, but that was all. Bu, I do read some amazing books these year and I don't think I will be reading more books this year, so, here it is, my 10 favorit books of 2012 (in order of reading)

1.- THE SCORPIO RACES by Maggie Stiefvater (January)

So, this book was like waking up one morning with the feeling of sunlight in my face... so it's something so amazing. Reading this book was unbelievable, I didn't have much faith in it at the begining,The Wolves of Marcy Falls Trilogy by the same author is in fact my favorite YA series, and Maggie said that TSR was a much better book of hers. I didn't believe it, but then I read it and WOW! it's so... it's so, IDK, it's fantastic and special and unique and... there isn't a word in the dictionary for this book. It has its own pace and a really honest feeling to it, for me this is a love story that breaks the boundaries of love between two people, this is a love story of two young adults who are loving an island (Puck) and some deadly water horses (Sean) It's so amazing in a way I can't really convey, not enterely. It isn't heartbreaking, but all the opposite because the writing is amazing, and the characters and the feeling of this world itself, but it did have those moments when I just wanted to sit there and die. It's epic, to some point.

2.- FORBIDDEN bye Tabitha Suzuma. (May)

WHAT!? Wait, WHAT!?, this book really made me said that a hundred of times. I still don't know exactly what to say about, it's a really sad book, it really have some amazing insights of life and tragidy and I think even rage and desesperation and confusion. It's heart-reaking, but more than that its amazinly surprising, it made me so frustated, I- didn't have the characters' believes, but I didn't have the courage to thrash at them. It is really beautiful, in a tragic, confusing, tormented sort of way. I mean, no one can be really prepare to deal with incest, not even when it's fictional, because, ladies and gentlemen, this is fucking realistic, If you don't cry reading this book, then you're really sick. 

3.- DIVERGENT by Veronica Roth (May)

Such a different book from the one above. So I'm a Tribute, okey?, I'm a Hunger Games fan, I am everything that describe this fandom, and iit's amazing how rare it is to find another book with that strongness. Again, I wasn't expecting a lot of this book, I even bought it in papaerback (I love more the strong feeling of hardbacks) but it is incredibly surprising, a little soft at the begining, but really nice, really beautiful, I think the narrative it's perfect, then the whole story change and Beatrice, this amazing character has to make a choice, but even when it is brave, I don't love this choice by its own, but I love what Beatrice make out of it. Divergent is really fantastic, its strong, fierce and there're strong bounds between Tris and the people she care about, though it's all really complicated. I mention The Hunger Games above because that it's one of the finest dystopies I've read, and so does Divergent. I swallow this book with such a good taste in it, so I'm ashamed to say I haven't read Insurgent, but Divergent stands for re-reading before the sequel, so I'm waiting to 2013.

4.- THE KNIFE OF NEVER LETTING GO by Patrick Ness (May)

There come a time in the life when you stop expecting things, you know? It's like, what else could it be in the world? But then you read this book title, you buy the book, you read Divergent first and you expect even less, but WOW, I really have to knell to talk about this book, it's so beautiful narrated, such a twist in story-telling, and it delivers such an emotion, such feeling, t time it is truly writtn with beutiful and realistic rage and OMG it's amazing. This book really made my heart beat, made me cry like a pig in a slaughterhouse, it made me breathless. It's fast-paced, it keeps you at the very edge of ANY kind of seat, I mean, what else can I say, this book despite its contet really restore my faith in  humanity, I even cried in a bus full of teens of my school, I cried while reading it and cursing the tears on my eyes for not letting me read normaly. My God. Patrick Ness I have given you my heart. Tom, Manchee and Viola are such remarkable characters, I'm sure I will never forget them.

5.- WARM BODIES by Isaac Marion (July)

I'm going to be quick for this one. Unique, deep, full of spirit, hopeful, beautiful, people, beautiful.

6.- THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS: CITY OF ASHES by Cassandra Clare (November)

Why did I wait o long to read this second part? Am I crazy? Is there something wrong with me? I mean, this is really amazing, it kept me there all the time, in that world, amid these awesome, butt-kicking characters, What else cuould I ask? Truly amazing, again this book filled me with fantasy, and romance (now forbidden) and this dangerous feeling that I love because this books owns it. It is not fair to read book like this and be certain that I will never be able to write something so unique like this. Haha, the next book in my list will be a surprise. Ta-a-ra-ra-raaaaaa

7.- THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS: CITY OF GLASS by Cassandra Clare (December)

WHA CAN I POSSIBLY SAY!!?? Even better than any of the two first book. It was so... arrrggggggg. Yes, that it's the word -onomatopoeia - I am looking for, this book it so ARRRRGGGGGGGG. I can say much about t, or it will be spoilers - though I'm possibly the only one that have just finish this book in the 7 books series - but if I ever thought that City of Bones, or City of Ashes have broke my heart... I was wrong, this book really broke it many many times, It was amazing, I couldn't take my hands off it. I'm so loving this series.

.....

Wow, I'm ashame.... these aren't 10 books.... but it's not my fault, but don't cry, I will keep talking, these are my honorary mentions, I really liked them, but it felt wrong to put them in my favorite list:

SILENCE by Becca Fizpatrick (third book iush series)
FOR DARKNESS SHOWS THE STARS by Diana Petefreund (retelling of Persuasion)
PAPER TOWNS by John Green (John Green, people, he's awesome, vlogbrothers??)


And my God, I will be commiting sin if I don't mention JANE EYRE, not as an honorary mention but kind of BEST BOOK I HAVE READ ALL ACROSS MY LIFE, I already have talk about it, I have express my love for it, and what else can I say? It's beautiful.

And finally PERSUASION (I just want to clarify I read this month before For Darkness Shows The Stars, and I read that because I wanted to see how much it was bound to Persuasion, its original base) Jane Austen really knew what she was doing. I mean, Mr. Darcy and Captain Wentworth are... gentlemen, they're how every man in the planet should be. For real.



So that was all...

I really need to talk about this books with a living person, WHY AE MY FRIENDS NOT-READERS????

My God...

So, bye, I guess.
I have forgotten why I should not sleep.
I think I was afraid of something,
Something I could not see, and 
There was a light that went out
And there was a darkness swinging me around
But I have forgotten why it was so important
For me not to even blink, but
I remember a lifetime of fears
And a mother with blood eyes shoot with tears,
I remember a bite in my neck
And a spirit in my head
None of that matters now
Not since I can finally close my eyes
And my hands are not cold anymore
And my breathe is not raged
And my shoulders are not shaking
For I finally forgotten what made me so shy
The footsteps on the stairs get louder
And louder still than my heartbeat
Because now, the noises around
Are not keeping me awake
Rather they carried me to sleep
And far, far away from him.


I think the word "him" changes all the point in this, I don't know why, at first I was going to write "fear" instead, but I think "him" changes what I was thinking at first... It kind of amazes me how just one word can change all the subject... at least for me

A little thing to remember for later

LA EXTRANJERA

Se han apoyado en la baranda del faro. Han llegado hasta aquí sin miedo.

Atraídos por el amor al vértigo. Guiados por una flecha insolente de la noche. Ella mira hacia abajo. El mar la deslumbra. Olas hinchadas como venas patean su rabia contra la muralla de rocas. Él le pide: Ámame.

Ella no responde. Es joven y cierra los ojos como si estuviera viviendo muchas muertes. Ella teme saltar. Él le reclama: Bésame. La luz del faro indaga por las cosas perdidas y los encuentra a ellos. Amantes de las sombras son el blanco del silencio. Ella quiere saltar porque en su garganta tiene un nudo de reproches. Como él no pregunta, tampoco ella le responde. Su pasado es un mapa deshecho. Viene de un país hundido. No resulta fácil decir lo que se piensa. Y ella piensa demasiado. Ahora abre los ojos para ver el naufragio de su alma. Él la abraza como si quisiera desnudar su rabia. Ella le pide: Mátame.

Nuria Amat

The room is too quiet

It was slow and rhythmic; it was the only sign that i was still alive.

The evil came always late at night, choking me with cold fingers in the form of air. It didn’t take long to wake me up, for I have learned to be alert; to every sound, to every move.

The first thing I heard were his steps in the ground, it wasn’t much the sound of his feet, but the sound of the earthquake they cause. The first thing I feel were his hands touching my ankles and then the feeling of him melting into my skin, and entering my bones. He rapidly reach my brain, taking me, somehow, to an underground-like world.

The flames were black and red – opaque and bright, cold and melting hot – and the ground were I step were no ground at all, it was half the skull and half the ashes of them. Above me the bodies of men and women were hung and were surrounded by white ghost that look eerily like a fog so I could only see the feet of the corpses.

Right then I knew where I was. There was no place like that in earth and neither in imagination.

If I stared too long at any side of me, the horizon of mountains expanded as if they were just appearing. There was no end and the sensation of see it all felt heavily like a heart attack.

Hell was just so infinite, and corpses and skulls and ghost and sins were just about it.

I felt like wanting to die or better said; wanting to not exist at all, because I already was dead and already was I in hell.

The faint sound of screams was carried to me, coming from nowhere in particular but all around. But there was a stronger sound; slow and rhythmic, that was pushing its way into my conscious.

The sound it’s at the same time strange and familiar; it is strong and has a feeling of its own; like a presence. I took a few seconds to realize that it was my own very breathing.

I was breathing and it sounded so strong because there was no similar sound in there.

It was slow and rhythmic; strange and familiar.

I was the only one alive in hell.

I was the only one.

It was slow and rhythmic, strange and familiar. It was my breathing; the only sign I was still alive.

I tried to focus on that and soon I started to feel like iron instead of bones, like a stick stuck on my head and a dying grip on my ankles.

It was the sensation of coming again to me, where I belong, where I’d never left.

Because evil could take me away to hell every night, but as long as I breathe I could always came back at dawn, because the room was too quiet and my breathing was stronger than a thousand cries