• The Sky Up Above

    Mystery creates wonder, and wonder is the basis of humankind’s desire to understand.  I could take a picture of what I’m seeing on this beautiful evening, but I don’t have a NatGeo-type camera (aww). So, as always, I try my best to sketch it 😎 — the mystery that is the sky up above us. ¡Buenas noches!

  • Sonnet in a Book

    Misunderstood Sonnet

    “Are you grieving?” “No,” I quizzically said. “You only talk about sad things.” How to tell her that I’m a requiem; an airless breath, a heartless ribcage, a misunderstood sonnet. I want to tell her about the times I’ve stared blank at the silver clouds up in the sky, never hearing a reply. So unable to express the feeling of not feeling. I felt so much that now I grew immune. Just emotionless. Am I grieving? Maybe I am. Hands forced up in the air by circumstances, while life points a riffle to my back. I’m detained. Can’t escape. Change your ways, they say, for a tree you ain’t. At…

  • Pretty Even

    She remembers the times he rubbed it all in her face. Car payment, shopping sprees, fancy meals, his fancy place. Every argument led to one direction, “I’ve done so much for you; I’m the answer to your equation.” Repetitive words he said so often times, made her question decisions she made in her prime times. Guilt, insecurity, loneliness, and misery, She raced against life, trying to change her destiny. Maybe he was right; maybe she owed him a hundred. He picked her up, after all, when her days were thundered. Pounding her head with the hammer’s claws until the impact cut loose the gauze. Countless years with no elation were…

  • Getting to Know Sara

    Since she was eight years old, Sara has never lived in any country for more than three consecutive years. It is constant moving for her and her ambassador parents. She studied at many international schools, from London to Australia, and she speaks five languages: Italian, French, African, English, and now Spanish. Sara just moved to Salamanca, and in a few minutes, we’ll get to know each other better over a welcome lunch our host-family has prepared. My palms are sweaty and my middle finger wrestles my index under the table, imploring the universe that this girl is likable. After all, we’ll be housemates. Jose Maria, our host father, offers me…

  • Deep Blue Nights

    Her nights are blue, but not just any blue; it is the darkest of all hues. By her bedside she keeps her booze, drowning her sorrows, awaking the muse. Don’t judge so soon ’cause you would, too, if you walked a mile in her shoes.

  • If I Had More Alone Time

    If I had more alone time, I’d have more time to create more terrible doodles, to write more stories, more poetry, such as this short story; the story of how I’m unable to tell more stories. So, you see, solitude isn’t all that bad — and learning how to prioritize doesn’t hurt either.

  • Babe, You’re Already Official

    The madness of this rapidly “socialized” world is wrapping me with its poisonous dew. Getting lost. We are getting lost. Forgetting. Forgetting our nature, our purpose, what really matters. Suddenly, being everything on social media is…everything. Since when? If we’re not making a living out of it, what do we earn from it? I remember reading a post from a sort of “famous” Instagram username the other day. It said: She wondered how she could have so many followers and so few friends… Whether those were her words or not; whether that’s her reality or not, it is true for many. So many. In fact, most popular people in Hollywood…

  • A Wine Glass On Dining Table

    Time Doesn’t Slow Down

    I saw a clock turn time today, it was quick and sharp. From seven to eight the dots blinked once. A rarity it is to catch the clock doing time Because though it’s its job it is too fast for the eye. Perhaps that’s my fascination we never see eye to eye Me being the late-runner I am time doesn’t think I try To move at the pace it requires to make it to dinner by nine. So today looking at it for once, actually so many times I smiled, stared and wondered, so this is how time goes by? Time flies.