Time, people, death

I’ve thinking a lot lately,

Thinking about time, about people, about death.

I’ve thinking about a way of getting out of here,

An excuse to set up a race to freedom,

The problem is that I don’t really know freedom,

And that makes every single detail quite more complicated.

But I keep thinking about details,

Thinking about that lonely time and that precise action,

I don’t know why some images just hunt you forever,

Keep sucking out the sense of life,

Destroy you from the very inside.

I still feeling me blood warm,

I keep going to that mental building every time I can,

But I don’t really have a reason to,

I just do it because I want to,

And sometimes I convince myself that’s enough.

I’ve thinking a lot lately,

Thinking about ghosts that come and go,

Thinking about every single person I’ve buried,

About every single person I’ve known.

I don’t mean I’ve killed people,

Or I’ve been in their funerals,

But it’s kind of related.

People just die every single day in so many ways,

You can’t even imagine.

The most recurrent of my nightmares is to find myself eternal,

I’m kind of used to die and return from the ashes,

Full of fucking nostalgia,

 Wondering where the fuck I am,

With renewed capacity to be impressed by my own existence.

I’ve thinking a lot lately,

Thinking about suppositions and reality,

Thinking about madness and how to acquire that quality.

Being yourself can drive you kind of crazy sometimes,

And eccentricity gives some taste to life,

If you know how to control it

Or at least how to give it control over yourself.

Insanity isn’t fun at all if you don’t face it,

Talking to people isn’t fun at all if there’s no purpose,

But we all keep going on this bullshit,

We all keep wandering at least twice a week,

Just another step, don’t be that lazy.

I’ve thinking a lot lately,

Thinking about nothing important,

Thinking about the intensity of the exact moment,

And that isn’t a problem at all.  

The problem comes when I can’t stop thinking,

When I’m possessed by ambiguous thoughts,

When existence isn’t that important anymore.

I’ve been thinking I shouldn’t be thinking that much,

But I’m kind of obsessed with the idea of running away,

With the idea of changing everything,

With the precise moment once again.

Por: Juan José Cadena D.