Tough life of a full-time dreamer

There's a land of dreams I can share with them. And we're happy here, though sometimes we have to return.

Back to real life. Where they have loved ones they can return to, whereas I only have those dreams and that bitter solitude after knowing something better.

Reversed artist

Some say it takes misery and pain to create art. Most believe it, actually.

For me, even though inspiration is always hard to find, it's absolutely impossible when I'm depressed. It's the time when I get back on my feet that helps me put things in perspective and turn my experiences into something beautiful, may it be a drawing, a painting or a short story. That's what always made me believe that I am no artist, but maybe no artist is that way. Maybe they all went through bad times and exploited them through the good ones. Maybe some did.

On the other hand, even if pain is not needed, maybe not being complete is. I write because I seek in my pages the love I can't have in real life. I seek to expose myself to no one and everyone, to have my feelings and thoughts out in the light but never discuss them. I write only to myself, the same way I didn't need to write when I wasn't alone. I'm scared of falling in love because I believe that'll make me less of a writer, but if I stay this way forever I'll likely lose my mind.

I don't know if any of this made sense. I don't care, either.

We can't change anything but the way we look at something

It's always been a mystery to me, but today I had an epiphany: we choose what we like and dislike.

Of course it's deeper than that. It is not something we do all the time and it's surely not something we're usually aware of, but it's there. And it is as simple as looking at the way we see things.

My favorite House was Gryffindor until Pottermore sorted me into Hufflepuff. After whining and doing my research, I came to love Pottermore's result because I wanted to like Hufflepuff.

I've never liked alcohol because I haven't tried it that much. Sure, maybe there is an alcoholic drink out there that I wouldn't mind drinking, but behind that taste issue there's a conscious decision: I don't want to like alcohol. So I don't even give it a try.

Once, someone said that we choose who we fall in love with. That, even though I still don't believe it, makes a lot more sense after thinking all that liking stuff through. I'm a hopeless romantic, so I don't want to wrap my head around it, although, from a logical point, it clicks.

In conclusion: if you want to like something, look at its bright side, forget the ugly parts or do both. If you don't, do the exact opposite thing.

It's hard to believe you can feel this way until you do.

That feeling of being alone in a crowded room.

Of believing you're empty.

Of not caring even though you know you should.

Not being able to gather strength to do the simplest tasks.

Lacking motivation to do things you like(d).

Life becomes grey, no taste in food, no smells, no comfort in anything you see or touch. Smiling physically hurts when it's such an obvious lie.

And you're not even bottom, it can get worse. And you know what the cure is, but you can't have it. So you just let the current drown you. You'll care later. Now, all you need is to be sad.

Dance for the first time as if it were the last

“Give me love like her

'Cause lately I've been waking up alone”

Su sonrisa era amable, tierna y tranquilizadora.

Sus brazos me levantaron y me sujetaron, una mano en la cintura, otra entrelazada en mis dedos. Mis inútiles piernas no supusieron un obstáculo para él, que permitió que mis pies se posaran encima de los suyos. Nos movimos a su ritmo, al compás de la música.

“After my blood turns into alcohol

No, I just wanna hold ya…”

Su sonrisa se tornó atractiva, electrizante y prometedora.

Nuestros torpes movimientos dejaron paso a un baile más fluido y rápido, nuestros cuerpos más pegados, mis ojos incapaces de separarse de los suyos. Tantas promesas mudas me llenaron de calidez. Mis distraídos pies resbalaron de los suyos, pero, como autómatas, comenzaron a seguir aquella danza sin interrupción.

“Give me love like never before

'Cause lately I've been craving more”

Su sonrisa se volvió avariciosa, apasionada y demandante.

El agarre que sus manos ejercían sobre mí ya no era protector, sino posesivo. Quería más de mí, más con cada paso que dábamos. Cada vuelta estaba más cerca, ante lo cual no sabía si sentirme deseada o aterrada. Cerré los ojos con fuerza cuando sus labios se aproximaron a mi oreja, y los abrí de golpe al escuchar lo que dijo.

“Adiós.”

Su sonrisa se convirtió en una mueca cruel, hiriente y burlona.

Me soltó como si no pudiera soportar ya más el compartir el mismo espacio que yo, y dejó que cayera de bruces mientras él me contemplaba desde arriba, superior y desafiante. No tardó en darse la vuelta y marcharse. Petrificada, le seguí con la mirada mientras los gritos de la canción retumbaban en mis oídos y en mi pecho, y me dio la sensación de que el mundo se quemaba.

“…”