Las cosas que te digo

Do you think about me? I know I think about you. These pictures of you are all I have...the things I feel. Me dejaste con un hueco en el alma. I walk with my head down. It hurts to look her in the face. My muse has gone with the wind. A leaf blown away from my hands. Even though she was never really mine.

She smiles at me. Yet. I find it hard to look in your eyes. Why? Senti una pena que no me deja mirarte. Instead me quedo con ella.

The object of my attention

Have you ever had an object stimulate your brain? I ask this because it seems the water bottle with the White Sox logo has made me recall a nice time I had. The bad part is it reminds me of something that happened a while ago. A romantic adventure that was nice and innocent. The bad part is that moment is in the past. It is not in the present. My soul wants it to be in the present.

I am contemplating writing a book. I am sure I won't get very far with this idea. It is more for peace of mind. I have a theory. The more you talk about an issue, then the more it makes it real. The more real it is. The more it forces you to resolve the issue or issues. This is true when one can't seem to open up to someone about the specific topic.

I had a breakfast group. The three of us would get together and hash out what ever we were feeling. It was like group therapy. It nurtured our soul. I miss those days.