No me perteneces

No estás presente
ni vivo ni nítido
Me eres ajeno,
un conocido formal
La parte que reconozco
está impresa en los espejos
el resto es un saludo incómodo
un inquilino extranjero
Te aferras a mi porque sólo existes
si te pienso.
Porque crees que te ha quedado algo pendiente
y no sabes que no es el momento.
Te niegas a retirarte como un amnésico
que se empeña en mostrar su insignia de lo que fue
y cree seguir siendo.
De nada te sirve en esta distopía que es el presente para ti.
Suéñate, pasado, tu vida sólo existe en tu propia memoria.

Watch the waves are drawn

While not choose, everything remains possible.
But people tend to rush, they focus in goals that aren't ends but moments.
A goal is the end only when death comes after.
The paradox comes when, past those goals, comes boredom. And people wish to be in other places with other people, in other house witn other job, other look, other type of kisses on the memory of skin.
And they start to dream, and the start to live in their dream. And know the vertigo of parallel lifes within the same retina, and the power to disappear and be in both places, and live doubly for yourself, and be half for each of your worlds. And finally be mystery, be pure life that defies its own rules and terms overthrows wanted to simply be.

While not choose, everything remains possible. But we have to decide to be alive. We are cast to do something. 

Damn, what? Can be everyhing?

Maybe not, but can become many posibilities, certainly different than expected. 

Just throw your stone and watch the waves are drawn.