I had this urge
To go on a trip.
I never thought
About it all that much.

I just went
In search of sights,
Landscapes to see,
Bird songs to hear,
But everything else
Was just hidden.

I had a bag
With all my stuff
In case of emergencies,
To control a chaos
I could not handle.

I was stuck
Unable to reach any of these.
Too heavy weight to carry,
Too afraid to be naked.

The whole world was gray,
The sounds, suffocated.
The words, numbed.
The things, useless.

I realized the bag I carried
To be ready for anything
Was, indeed, nothing.
Just a weight.

I could walk,
But it was hard.
I could jump,
But it was hard.
I could sight-see,
But it was hard,
I could do anything,
It would be just a bag.

The prepared I am,
The adventurer I am.
The adventurer I am,
The wilder I am.
The wilder I am,
The more I explore.

The prepared I am,
The heavier I am.
The heavier I am,
The less I roam.

In the end,
I wander less and less,
I am more and more
Attached to stuff
I really seem it hard to figure
Why are they really here.

Our bags are never
Big enough,
Strong enough,
Helpful enough,
But they never meant to be.
They're just bags.

I am the one
Who wished them
To be the solution of everything.
The problem was in me all along
But I never got the chance to see it.

Whatever I carry
Is just my ******* problem.

Words cross me as a knife
In a certain kind of retaliation.
Right or wrong doesn't matter,
It only matters what people say.

I must remember
That words are not sharp
- We hear them sharp.
We let them cut,
We let them in our heads,
We let them overflow in tears,
Sometimes ours, sometimes in others' eyes.

But I carry the weight
Of bleeding someone else's heart,
And agonize myself as a morbid
And undesired consequence.

The dry blood begins the healing at some point,
Or turns to hemorrhage.
We shall take care,
Soften words,
Soften what goes out in the light,
Even though some cuts are inevitable.

I can't understand jazz
But I keep listening,
Intrigued by it's messy,
Searching inexistent patterns.

I can't reproduce it,
Even if I were to play perfectly.
I feel my molecules swinging
To match the vibrating air,
But the precision of the notes
Is not enough:
The tones in transition
Keep the song going.

My innocence
Keeps me closer
To things I know about.
Jazz is more in me
Than any style.

I feel my head weak,
Trembling thoughts,
An imminent ache,
A taste of alcohol
Extending up to my fingers.

I don't drink for my body,
I drink to say hi,
To sign contracts,
To gain opacity,
To be rewarded.

Whenever I'm alone
Drinking isn't necessary.
There is no one watching,
Nothing to claim,
Just the silent fall off a giant tree.

I drink to be a cell,
A mimetic exercise.
An externalization.
A reduction of a self
For the sake of community.

To be precise
Is to lack broadness.
The world is limited
For I am limited.
The world extends me
To include myself.

I'm defined by my outside,
The negative position of being,
I am my joy of living,
The decision to remain,
A choice,
A place,
Wordless definition,
A completion of the space.

I am. The sum of all possibilities
Could only lead to this.
I am a result,
A process,
But I am a creature creating.
Because all of this
I can only be insufficient:
Otherwise I would lack existence.

I hear the sounds
Telling me change are coming.
I see a different breeze,
It slowly drifts me
Into an unexplored place,
Calm, fluid, balanced.

I never saw it earlier,
Never been there
Although the coordinates
Were always known:
Any map can lead you there,
Any compass points there,
Every single being can feel it.

Every change is announced,
Even sudden ones.
Our time is sometimes insufficient,
But warnings always exist.

To be present and steady
Is to absorb detours,
To apprehend discontinuities,
To live in ambiguity
Is to live at all.

To every action
There is an equal and opposite reaction.
A price is a reaction,
Value is the action.
There is always a price
Charged in money, credits and debts,
But also in heat,
In relationships,
In exhaustion,
In freedom.

We constantly negotiate
With time:
Our primarily finite asset.
Everything is at a perspective,
Charged in time.

I must learn
To reevaluate all the prices.

The more I do
The more I am afraid of stopping
Even though there is nothing to lose.
It is just a commitment
That no one will charge.
It is my self reference.

But I know my limitations.
I know I can change my mind.
Commitments reflect a time
That will lead to a different time,
Different characters,
Different backgrounds,
Different plots,
A different maestro to a different orchestra.

I fear lacking continuity,
To bend my own rules.
The more I know myself
The more I keep continuing.
I fear the inflection.

I rise into the world of being,
Born, bleeding, crying, seeing.
By any chance
Birth made me happen,
Curiously curious,
Helplessly questioning, wandering,
Somewhat philosopher,
Somewhat physicist,
Somewhat lost trying to create new labels.

I was born
To be in the world,
To deal with questions without answers,
To find my own sense.

I am here for no reason, though.
I am here to be here.
To see it through,
To live it through.

To question is just
A way of being here.

The only thing keeping us together
Is this friction,
That avoids slipping,
Avoids movement,
Despite of all generated heat,
All lost work,
It is, ultimately, micro physics
Of contact, of bonding,
It is a welding necessary for coherence.

Friction allows steadiness and displacement.
The difference is the direction and way of the force.