Posted by Raul on July 5, 2011
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Looking to the surrounding world; wishing to fly free; afraid of the trade that freedom implies with its characteristic unknown, the bird stands by the open door of the cage, immobilized.
The dreams of the outer world and its wonders from the safety of the cage; the fears of the feeling of abandonment when not protected by the cage, yet free to fly and explore
Decisions, decision!
The little bird steps by the door and takes a quick look around, weighing the pros and cons of continuing with the infinite walk.
“It’s just a quick fly around to know”. Yet the wall of invisible air is still there, holding the fears and insecurities of the unknown.
The thoughts of remaining by the side of safety attack the little bird’s mind, while it fights to preserve the images of the infinite possibilities if only another step was made into the unknown.
The door of the cage was open, but just for a short time before it started to slowly move to become forever close. The little bird, desperate because of the closing door, pushes itself into its deepest thoughts, trying to find the solution to its confusion and indecision about its most logic move.
Time passes no matter what -the only reliable element of physical life- and the door finally become closed.
So the little, caged bird looks around its forever home, and the thoughts of flying free become the dream that never was, yet its heart smiles with relief.
“I guess I never really wanted to go”
Raul
Posted by Raul on July 2, 2011
Butterflies that paint the world in beautiful colors.
Butterflies that change reality into a dream world.
Butterflies that tell lies instead of reality.
Butterflies that carelessly fly without aim.
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Where are you!
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I’ve seen a butterfly dancing in the air in front of me.
I tried, but I cannot touch it.
Sweet movements in the canvas of reality.
Bitter feelings of cross worlds.
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Logic against the so many times mentioned freaking guts.
Standing in the cold, sweating the heat of summer.
So many lists, so many thoughts.
Paralyzed by dull materials that conform reality.
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Sweet, beautiful butterfly that creates neon lights in the air with unsought movements or premeditated intentions, yet exists and calls for a revolution.
And the sun and the moon keep turning and turning!
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I know, I’m screwed! 
Raul
Posted by Raul on May 12, 2011
It’s been with me for such a long time. So long that it seems it’s been forever.
At first I didn’t choose what kind of car it’ll be, it just happened to be there when I wanted one, and so it became part of my life. With a happy heart from my part we both started to roam the land together, without knowing what the future would be.
After so many years of trouble and continuous fixing to keep it rolling, it just became the way things are, without much thought about the practicality of that fortuity association, and even more, the logic behind the continuity of such association.
There was no reason to question why remaining the ownership when the absence of practicality was the norm. Maybe becoming accustomed to the same sight everyday; maybe the bothering thoughts of having to start from scratch at rebuilding and upgrading another one. This car runs good enough, even if it’s not what it’s really needed, so why bother with the restoration process in another car that has the desired characteristics.
But then, without the intention of searching or shopping around, after so many years, this other car showed up and presented many of the characteristics that seemed to be the ones originally desired.
Practicality is still absent, I must add and admit, yet the many different characteristics that make the personality of a car, and that are the ones that most appeal to my desires and needs, seem to be there.
It is not about the opportunity to switch cars, but rather the situation that, having appeared from nowhere, call the attention to the forgotten elements that create the deepest bonding that suppose to be the base in everything.
All the forgotten questioning that became buried in the past, to give way to a dull, numb driving of the already driven roads; and even more, defy the acceptance of continuity when the old questioning surface once again.
But then the doubts: What if, after going through the same long process of restoration, the impracticality still shows up in this other car? Wouldn’t that be changing everything just to get back to the same place? Why bother then?
At the other hand: Is it all these doubts because of fear to fall into the same situation after so much work? What if the different characteristics really make a big difference? Why not to give it a try?
Then again; is it proper to fail to the given word of continuity? And does such condition really exist? What about the roads that cannot be traveled because the actual car doesn’t adapt to the requirements of such roads? Should be a renounce to those roads the proper way of behavior? Or just a point of cowardice or social adaptation?
What a confusing situation!
To drive or not to drive! To restore again or maintain forever?
I can’t deny the excitement of just the thoughts of driving that other car in new, different roads; different to the normally traveled for so many years, once the restoration process is completed (if such thing exists!).
Maybe pondering the situation a little longer; maybe forgetting about it completely and just keep going as it has been for so long, to the point of becoming again “the way things are”
The eternal internal battle of logic and reason against feelings and intuition: Which one brings the permanent, or at least longer, state of internal harmony?
Why do we humans love to always create new problems to ourselves?!
Raul
Posted by Raul on March 31, 2011
They used to be all around, flying aimlessly, close to each other, silently existing for no reason at all. They were there, creating that strange feeling that seems to be proper of just once in a lifetime.
Sounds of a voice, a gesture, maybe a silly look of stranger eyes that were to be known little by little as time went by; they were born out of those and remained there for a short lived life.
So colorful! So vibrant! So alive! Butterflies that changed the elements around, the organization of things, the perception of life; just to leave behind spider webs as a memorial reminder of what used to be, and that now concentrate in catching the dust of time.
Their brief life reminding us all of the fragility of a moment in time: Dead Butterflies!
Raul
(Projections)
Posted by Raul on December 30, 2009
Please don’t cry! It is so strange to see you crying without the chance to give you a hug and hold you for a while, not being able to wipe your tears and tell you something silly to make you laugh.
And I’m seating here looking at you, wanting to touch you, hold your hand and go for a walk at the park just the same as we always used to do. Walk without aim while looking around the trees and birds and talking about anything that might come to mind at the moment; have a good laugh after a silly joke came out of nowhere.
I remember all the years together; the hopes, the fights, the plans and the simple things that made out our time as a couple. So many times becoming hell and wanting to leave but never did because at the end it is about doing this long trip that is life together, no matter what we encounter, no matter what we have to endure from life, we were always there for each other, even if it was with a hard face.
But then there were also the good times; the projects, the plans, the accomplishments, so many little things that made a big difference in something that wasn’t really important, except for us, like when we completed a small garden in the back yard, or painted the house together. We talked, we proposed, we argued, we agreed, we did and we laughed, then hugging each other we contemplated the end result that most of the time wasn’t what we planned but left us satisfied with the accomplishment of another little improvement of our surroundings.
And then there were the kids; those little monsters that made us worried when they were sick, made us laugh with their ingenious tricks to get something and their jokes while seating at the dining table; every accomplishment they had that made us proud. All the pictures accumulated for years with every event in life; and then they grew up to be themselves and walk their own path, leaving us satisfied yet somehow feeling alone.
So then again it was you and me, learning all from the beginning, learning to be just the two of us, reaching our memories for what we used to do. Playing with leaves by fall and making a snow man in winter, laughing like children in the bodies of old people, looking silly, maybe stupid, I don’t know.
That young, skinny girl I met so long ago that turned into an old woman with gray hair that I must say I still feel attractive in bed, even if you don’t like to see yourself naked in the mirror anymore. I guess is the years together, the many things we lived, enjoyed and endure; the path we walked with just a vague main plan, sometimes just surviving the moment and keep going forward with the hopes of a better tomorrow.
And now here we are, face to face yet so distant, both of us crying wanting to hug yet remaining apart; I’m seating here in front of you, talking to you while you can’t hear me and thinking you are alone. How can I let you know that I am with you? How can I tell you that I’ll be here for you, always? I wish I can go home with you!
She remained standing there for another moment, wanting to stay forever but knowing that she has to leave. Her older son holding her without saying a word mostly because didn’t really know what to say, so just remained there for her. Then the time came and they started to walk away from the empty place back to home…leaving behind her husband’s grave.
