It’s been a while since I’ve uploaded something.
I missed it.
Truly.
I’ve been writing a lot on my own and for myself these past few months.
I often feel like I haven’t because I don’t type it down on my computer, which is absurd, but inside of me, I know I have.
I also want to change something here now.
I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now, but I simply haven’t done it.
Such a contemporary human way of doing things, huh?
We think and leave things in the world of ideas.
Anyway, I’ve gotten very keen on writing short pieces of text rather than long essays.
I can’t seem to make myself sit down and write long pieces like before, for now, but short pieces of text and what might seem like a short poem have become something I’m constantly writing down.
As I said, I missed posting (and you deserve a Milesmind post as well;)), so here are a couple of texts I’ve written in the past couple months.
*This post will be in Spanish, but the English version will be right below it!
Half Spanish, half English post, hehehe.
Que tremenda!, we say in Spanish.
As always, enjoy 🙂
**plus!! special feature is included in this post
***All the pictures in this post are mine 🙂
Uno.
Escribo desde Praga.
Que bello que es aquí. Siempre.
En una banca sentada, viendo lo que para al otro lado del río.
Solita.
La gente le parece triste o poco comprensible el porque voy sola a mayoría de los lugares. Sobre todo viajar sola.
‘¿Y que vas a hacer?’ me preguntan.
Como si tuviera la más remota idea de qué contestarles.
(…)
–
Uno.uno
Esta ciudad está llena de magia.
Pensaba de camino a mi hostel, que es muy curioso y interesante cómo cada ciudad tiene su propia esencia, y nos percibimos de diferente forma en cada una de ellas.
Qué curioso… así somos los humanos.
Los cambios son aprensiones, derrotas, y ganancias de conocimientos y perspectivas que uno conscientemente no piensa que tendrá.
Todo ya ha pasado, al fin.
Nosotros somos los últimos en entrarnos de los cambios que pasan dentro de nosotros la mayoría de las veces.
Irónica que es esta existencia!!!!!
(…)
–
Uno.dos
No se hacia donde me quiere llevar la vida.
Realmente, no lo se.
REAL-MENTE.
¿Qué es que hace conmigo?
¿Que hago yo con ella?
Todo el tiempo estoy renaciendo.
Estoy cansada de renacer.
¿Cuantas veces lo tenemos que hacer?
Mi ser y yo.
Supongo es parte de lo intrigante de la vida.
Toma tanto tiempo pensar en mi cabeza las cosas que quiero hacer, que me parece ridículo el no hacerlo.
I will write a poem soon.
El agua pasa entre
mis dedos.
El tiempo me sopla
en la cara.
Las torres se caen
ante mis pies.
Mis alas me elevan
más allá de mis ideas.
MyBk
Uno.tres
Tantos que están juntos y solo les llega la compañía de la soledad en esta fría unión.
Se toman de la mano, sin sostenerse de verdad, porque es lo único que queda dentro de lo que ya ha dejado de ser y no hay.
Esos sinceros ‘te quiero’ y ‘te admiro’ parecen reales y vagos.
Eterno cambio e irremediable eterna repetición.
¿Dónde encendemos las velas de aquellas cosas que nos gusta creer que todavía tienen viva su chispa desaparecida?
Dos
La peor ceguera es la del no querer mirar, dijo alguna vez alguna sabia.
¿Será que los ojos volverán a brillar en cuanto el Sol se esconda?
Eso se lo pregunta cualquiera que nunca ha mirado el Sol salir después de una temporada de noches largas.
Las hojas no crujieron igual cuando empiecen a crecer las flores en la primavera.
El cielo también llora.
Solo los que temen a sus lagrimas piden que termine pronto el llanto.
Tantos aquellos que descubren lo hermoso que es bañarse en sus aguas.
¿Desde cuando es que un poco de agua daña tanto?
Necesitamos la obscuridad,
el silencio,
el vacio,
la ceguera,
la desilución,
el abismo,
el caos,
la destrucción,
el estallo.
¿Que somos sin alguno de estos?
¿Acaso se puede vivir solo de luz?
Criaturas adictas a la producción, con miedo a poner los ojos en el incambiable y equitativo final.
La mayor añoranza y liberación de aquella jaula del alma.
La prisión y el motor.
¿Y que vino primero?
¿El huevo o la gallina?
MyBk
Los demonios que duermen sobre tu caparazón inundan mis sueños.
Queriendo entrar a mis secretos entretejidos.
Vienen a ver cómo te vas liberando de lo poco que me queda de nuestro antiguo ser.
Crecen como enredaderas sin quererse quedar.
Tal vez es el aire, tal vez es la tierra, tal vez solo soy yo.
Te quedas y no te vas.
¿Qué soy sin que estés tú entre ellas?
¿Te podrás algún día deshilar de lo que he visto crecer tanto tiempo?
Las noches en el este son más largas en febrero.
MyBk – Michelle Cohen
ENGLISH VERSION FOR YOU, ENGLISH SPEAKING BBY:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*
Uno.
I write from Prague.
How beautiful it is here! Always.
Sitting on a bench, seeing what lies on the other side of the river.
Alone.
People find it sad or difficult to understand why I go alone to most places. Especially traveling alone.
‘And what are you going to do?’ they ask me.
As if I had the faintest idea of what to answer back.
(…)
Uno.uno
This city is full of magic.
I was thinking on the way to my hostel that it is very curious and interesting how each city has its own essence, and we perceive ourselves differently in each of them.
How curious… that’s how we humans are.
Changes are apprehensions, defeats, and gains of knowledge and perspectives that one does not consciously think one will have.
Everything has already happened, finally.
We are the last to notice the changes that happen within us most of the time.
Ironic that this existence is…
(…)
Uno.dos
I don’t know where life wants to take me.
I really do not know.
RE-ALLY.
What is she doing with me?
What do I do with her?
All the time, I am reborn.
I’m tired of being reborn.
How many times do we have to do it?
My being and me.
I guess that’s part of the intrigue of life.
It takes so much time to think about the things I want to do in my head that it seems ridiculous not to do them.
I’ll write a poem then.
The water runs
between my fingers.
Time blows
in my face.
The towers fall
before my feet.
These wings lift me up
beyond my ideas.
MyBk
Uno.tres
There are so many who are together and only get the company of loneliness in this cold union.
They hold hands without really holding each other because it is the only thing that remains within what has ceased to be and does not exist.
Those sincere ‘I love you’ and ‘I admire you’ seem real and vague.
Eternal change and irremediable eternal repetition.
Where do we light the candles for those things we like to believe they still have their still long-gone spark alive?
Dos
The worst blindness comes from not wanting to look, as some wise woman once said.
Could it be that the eyes will shine again as soon as the sun goes down?
I know that asks anyone who has never watched the sun rise after a season of long nights.
The leaves won’t rustle the same when the flowers start to grow in the spring.
The sky also cries.
Only those who fear her tears ask for the crying to end soon.
There are so many who discover how beautiful it is to bathe in the water.
Since when does a little water hurt so much?
The darkness,
the silence,
the vacuum,
the blindness,
the disappointment,
the abyss,
the chaos,
the destruction,
the explosion
What are we without any of these?
Can anyone live on light alone?
Creatures addicted to production are afraid to set their eyes on the unchangeable and equitable end.
The greatest longing and liberation from that cage of the soul.
The prison and the engine.
And what came first?
The chicken or the egg?
MyBk
The demons that sleep on your shell flood my dreams.
Wanting to enter my interwoven secrets.
They come to see how you are freeing yourself from the little that remains of our old self.
They grow like vines without wanting to stay.
Maybe it’s the air, maybe it’s the earth, maybe it’s just me.
You stay and you don’t leave.
What am I without you being among them?
Can you one day unravel what I have seen grow for so long?
The nights in the east are longer in February.
MyBk: Michelle Cohen
–
Sending you love and light.
Thanks for being here.
Milena
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