Love, my love, my most beautiful love:

Why after so many years I am still so much in love with you?

Perhaps it was our first kiss

Or your perfumed body

Or the way your hand touched my hand

Or the way you hugged me

Perhaps it was the color of your eyes

Or the color of your skin and of your hair

Perhaps it was your smile

Or your stature

Or your body´s volume

Perhaps it was your little attitude

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        Socrates once said that philosophy starts with the question, I WONDER.

I WONDER what the universe is made of. I WONDER if we are not alone in
the universe. DO extra-terrestrials understand the concept of love?
Do they breed like we do? Do they need their mouths to speak? ... I
WONDER ....


Once you begin asking questions you begin to understand that the
answers sometimes are not answers at all but beliefs.


Is the universe truly made of atoms ... of dark matter ... of empty
space? What keeps this water from flying away? Gravity? Such a
simple scientific belief.  An absurdity.  A myth.


We experience the universe and everything in it. THE BIG OUT THERE.
So mysterious and awesome who can ever comprehend it. We experience
gravity ... but do we? What if we can convince ourselves that we can
fly? What if we can convince ourselves that we are gods?


I WONDER, you say, does he still love me? Perhaps for you this is
still a question. For me, on the other hand, it is a feeling. The
experience of all experiences. THE MOMENT.


I KNOW WHY I EXIST.
I KNOW WHY YOU EXIST.

I EXIST BECAUSE YOU EXIST.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY BUT THAT I LOVE YOU SO VERY VERY VERY MUCH
AND THAT I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH.

________________________________________________

My most beautiful beloved, Maya

Have I told you how beautiful you are to me?  Have I told you how much you mean to me?  You mean more than anything else in this world.  I am so bless to have your friendship and your love ...  my sweet giggles. 

My most beautiful beloved, I wish I knew how to draw but I don't; so, instead I will draw something to you with words. 

Yes, it is true, in my art there is no such thing as silence but instead I enjoy a world of movement and colors and sounds and magic.  Life is made of such things. 

Our dialogue follows no logical order because we are not logical beings.  We are thinking beings but this does not mean that we are logical beings.  We are more heart than brain.   I know.  I know.  But 2 plus 2 equals four.  But life is more awesome when you think of rabbits dancing and celebrating a wedding.  Can you imagine rabbits getting drunk or can you imagine rabbits doing what rabbits do best?   What, chewing the cud, You say.  Alas, there is a philosophical question for you.

I hope this poem makes you laugh, makes you think and makes you appreciate our creator and always give him thanks that you and I met.

I love you so much. 

I send you many hugs and many many kisses.

The poem. 

Eagles swooping from the sky

Thousand upon thousands

Like falling stars

Over there, in that lonely hill

Rabbits are dancing

They are celebrating a wedding feast

Eagles swooping down with honor and glory

My mother is a wolf, you say.

My father is the fire, say I.

My heart is made of sacred fibers that reach to heaven, you say.

Of cold metal is my blood. 

What walls, what squares, what cubes, what iron bars

Can hold the human spirit

Can hold that which lives in darkness, said my beloved.

I love the silence that comes with the thunders.

I love the first drop of rain more than the rest, you say.

Why do you love me?

All I have in this world is the lightning and thunder

The winds and the rain

You is all I have, you tell me. 

You and your love, I say. 

You who becomes all things to me, you say. 

You, you, you, you, say I. 

Examine my heart

lo! the ceaseless river streams flowing to your direction

Some say that I am made of clay

My father the Sun says that I am made of corn

I was born brave, you say.

My roots are eternal.

Moon clouds and a rainbow made of flower petals

That is you, my beloved

Millions of tiny rain drops

Like eagles swooping down

Making the world anew

Thundering an unending joy and delight

My heart cries out

My gods, my gods, my gods

You are here, welcome! 

What else is there to say?  you ask. 

What else can you add?   I ask. 

See the tiny rain drops break the earth to pieces? 

Friend, stay.  Just you.  The rest can go home. 

I can hear the earth telling the rain. 

Spend the night here at my house

And let us go into dreaming

Once all of this was ours

These valleys and hills and mountains

Fire from the sky

A rope

A latter

A whirlwind

A sacred whisper

That is how I describe you, my beautiful beloved

Stay until dawn

Dream with me

Be silent, you tell me.

Let our kisses do the speaking.  

___________________________________________

II.

My dear Maya,

I remeber our times of happiness just as I remeber our times of poverty.  Friends have come and they have gone, but our true family remains with us.  They never leave us.  If they did, they were not part of our true family.

Maya,

You and I have promised many things to each other. To love each other no matter what.  We also promised each other that we would take care of one another: no matter what. 

A new dawn is coming and we are ready for it. 

I will love you with all my heart. 

I will love you so very much.  

Maya, you have asked me, why do I drink when I know that  Alcohol is killing our race.  Of all diseases that have tainted our honor and dignity and self worth as human beings, it has to be alcohol.  I understand.

But why do we drink?  Because we want to forget.  Forget what?  Forget the self.  Forget that we exist.  Forget that our life is so fucked up and that there is no way to fix it. 

We drink because we are cowards and alcohol gives us a little courage. 

We drink because alcohol dumbs our feelings... our feelings of insecurity: feelings of pain and sorrow. 

Alcohol gives us the illusion that is a cure for all our illments.  We do not realize that alcohol is killing us slowly:  rotting our livers ... giving us diseases  ... destroying our self love and dignity and whatever honorable thing we have accumulated over the years. 

Alcohol gives us the false idea of freedom. 

Alcohol is the greatest black magic spell and drunkards are just its poor victims.  A homeless man once told me, I drink because it cures my hunger.  And I told him, so does food.  Why the fuck don´t you just eat food. 

My uncle was very young when he died of alcoholism.  His liver shut down and he just stopped talking.  He died vomiting and drinking his own blood.  All he could do is just watch us cry and watch others carry him away.  My poor mother all she could say was how much she loved him. 

That is the saddest hours of my life.  Watching my uncle die a slave to alcohol.  He is not to blame.  He did not know that alcohol is a disease. 

Maya, you have asked me, why do I drink?  All I can say is that I started drinking since I was thirteen.  My grandfather drank.  So did my father and uncles.  Alcohol is one of those things you had to do to prove that you are a man. Look at me, drinking tequila and beer and cognac and I can still control myself.   Yes, but for how long?   Another stupid nonsense. 

All this time I kept saying to myself, I want to stop drinking but I can´t.  This is a lie.  I did not wanted to stop drinking, therefore I never even tried.  Until now.  Of course you can stop drinking, only if you want to.  No one can force you to stop drinking, only you can do that. 

The road to alcohol leads only to three places: to the grave, to the hospital, and to prison. 

So what will stop our people from becoming drunkards?  You ask me.  And I will tell you that the only thing that will stop our people from killing themselves is fear.  We need fear in our lives.  Fear keeps us fit and alert.  We need to put the fear of alcohol to our young people. 

Fear and respect.  Alcohol is our enemy and as an enemy we must fear it and at the same time respect it.  Fear it because just like a mortal enemy, it has the power to kill us.  And respect it simply because it has that type of power.  What we can also do is to treat alcohol as sacred.  Use it only for ritual purposes such as weddings and birthdates and so forth.  Use it but not abuse it.  The same thing goes with tobacco smoking.

Brainwash our children that if they drink alcohol they will go to hell.  That alcohol makes alcoholics insane.  That only crazy, stupid and dumb masses abuse alcohol.  People with no family.  People with no name, with no history, with no values, people with no honor.  Bastards who have no one to love them. 

But we need examples as well.  Of what use will it be if I tell you not to drink when you see me get drunk everyday. 

Finally, my beautiful beloved, we also need to tell our young people this fact: alcohol does not make you into a man.  You are born a man.  And as a man, you should always keep your head high-up.  -With self-love, self-respect, self-dignity, and honor. 

Another thing, criticizing an alcoholic or telling him that he is an alcoholic helps no one.  You want to help an alcoholic, tell him that no matter what, when the time comes and he decides to call it quits, that you will be there to help him. 

Who are we to judge?

Why do you drink? 

Speak up!

Tell us the reason of why you drink.

I know why I drink, but do you know why you drink? 

_____________________________________________________

III.

My most beautiful beloved, Maya:

I have faced many trials of all types and I have endured all of them so far. 

I remember the times we watched the sun risings and sun settings and the sun falling off into the sea only to witness the bright stars and moon appear as though it was a magic show just for us.  The power of our god in all its magnificent glory. 

My beloved, you ask me of how I see my life. 

Yes, there is beauty and there is ugliness.  They are everywhere.  But they are so interchangeable.  Close your eyes and change the idea of the night with all its bright stars and moon and comets as truly ugly and soon it becomes truly ugly.  So simple.  

Why am I here and not there?  You ask.  I am here because of my arrogance.  Because I think of myself as an intellectual and as an intellectual I think that my shit does not stink.  BUT I am here because you are here with me.  And my heart belongs to you.  And I love you with all of my heart and soul. I see your eyes and in your eyes I see no judgment only love.  Thank you.  I LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH.

Thank you Maya, because even though I have made many mistakes, you continue loving me. 

I am put to the test.  Like gold when it is purified.  All my sins, all my wrongs, and every deed that I have committed puts me deeper and deeper in this hell.  Alas, in the course of my existence all my actions have been the wrong actions.  I am sorry. 

I will forever be in the wrong if one day I stop thanking you.  You whose eyes are my eyes and whose love is eternal. 

Sometimes I am selfish.  Why?  Because I want you all to myself. And because of my arrogance and desires: I am at war with my self.  For example, I want what I already have and if I already posses what I want, I want more.  Thus, I want your love ... I want all of your love. 

Maya, I live the moment.  Tomorrow means many hours from now.  Things can happen from one second to the other:  wars are declared and wars are won, new governments are installed, etc. 

What do I hope for?

I hope for the autumn rains and to count each blessings that the day brings.  I hope for a beautiful tomorrow with you and I together. 

_____________________________________________________

IIII.

My most beautiful beloved, Maya

How are you?  How was your weekend?  Hopefully better than it was yesterday.  Mine?  It is basically the same shit just a different day.  Same breakfast as yesterday and same lunch and the same goddamn dinner varying here and there depending on the day ... just as showers varies from day to day.  I guess this is the torture all of us have to endure.  It is not a physical pain but a psychological anguish: full of desperation and anxiety, of fear and boredom.  Of just waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.  For those who have been in hell before, they have formed some habits.  They draw or paint while others read and some do exercises or do anything that will keep them sane.  But I find it hard to believe that anyones likes being caged or that nobody suffers from depression here in this hell hole.

Imagine being caged month after month after month  ... imagine hearing the same stories again and again.  Did you hear so and so ... he was given 850 years to life.  Is that humanly possible?  First he has to do 850 years in hell in order to be able to ask for a pàrole hearing. 

What is freedom, you ask me.  Freedom is not the ability to choose... no.  Or the ability to walk from here to there.  No.  This is not true freedom.  Because I can do this walking here ... all I need to do is just close my eyes and I can travel from here to there.  ALSO, I can take my life and all of this hell on earth will end.  Yes, I can kill myself and no one can stop me from doing so.  Only I can stop myself.  So, freedom is something else.  But what?  For me it is the freedom to love and to be loved in return.  Freedom to touch and to be touched by you.  To see you and to feel you.  To feel the wind and the sun and the night and the earth.  To be alone just you, I and our god.  To me freedom is more spiritual than physical. 

It is perhaps this freedom that makes or forces me to go on.  Because anyday now I will be home with you and we will go to our mountain and I will spread my wings and put on my red tail, stretch my claws and raise my head up to the sun and just fly.  And I will fly up and up circling with the winds ... up and up ... until I can feel the warmth of the sun.  Until my wings are saturated with all the love of the universe.  And I will glide and glide and glide and play with the clouds and then I will fold my wings and fall like lightning.  And just when you think that I will hit the ground, I will go up again.  This show will be just for you.  My magic show just for you.  This is how I will tell the world about my love and about my faith in you...  that god and I are one and the same.  That you and I and god are one and the same.  That we all are on equal terms here on earth and that no one, absolutely no one has the right to cage a human being, ... any living being. 

All of us are equal and all of us have the right to live.  And if we have committed a wrong, there are thousands of ways to cancel that wrong ....  Just as there are millions of ways to say I AM SO SORRY. 

This legal system is another coorporation.  Another way of making money and of creating slaves.  WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT?  HANDS IN POCKETS.  HANDS TO THE BACK.  DENKER ROW, SHOWER TIME.  CHOW TIME.  Yes, chow.  WHAT ARE YOUR LAST THREE DIGIT NUMBER?  These last three digits supposed to represent you. 

But I refuse to be a slave to a Man. I refuse this animal existence.  If hell exists, this is hell.  Hell is not a place of fire and sulphur and rivers of blood and torment... no.  Hell, if hell exists, hell is a place of boredom.  A place where we walk in circles after circles after endless circles: large circles, small circles, the same circles ... never ending cycles repeating itself ...  repeating the same thoughts, having the same thoughts, speaking the same thoughts .... Circle after circle after circle after circle.

What is today?  Today is the day after yesterday.  Today is the day before tomorrow.

What time do you think it is?  It is a second of NOW. 

Yes, but what is NOW?  Now was a second ago.  No.  NOW will be a second later.

BUT WHAT TIME DO YOU THINK IT IS?  Who cares.  This is hell.  Hell is where there is no sun and there is no moon and there are no trees and no wind.  Just circles and circles of the same thought patterns.  Hell are people you do not like but are force to live with them.  People who hate you and people that you hate back.  WALK.  WALK WITH YOU HEAD DOWN.  ALWAYS LOOKING DOWN.  DO NOT LOOK TO YOUR SIDES OR WHAT IS IN FRONT OF YOU BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING THERE FOR YOU TO SEE.   WALK IN CIRCLES YOU MISERABLE WORM AND THINK OF YOURSELF AS A WORM.  BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE ... A WORM.  YOU ARE NOT HUMAN.  NOBODY LOVES YOU.  Love you say?

There is the rub.  It is love that stops me from fucking you up.  Slashing your PIG ass throat.  It is this love that makes me walk in these stupid circles. 

If hell exists it exists in our thoughts.  HELL IS OUR THOUGHTS!! 

Why is he happy? 

HE:  HEY, Amigo, DO YOU WANT TO SEE A PICTURE OF MY GIRLFRIEND? 

HE: HEY, Amigo, DO YOU WANT TO SEE A PICTURE OF MY KIDS. 

HE: HEY, Amigo, DO YOU WANT TO READ THE LETTER AND PRAYERS THAT MY MOM AND DAD SENT ME?

HE: HEY Amigo, DO YOU WANT TO HEAR THE JOKES THAT MY SISTER SENT ME? 

Why is he so goddamn happy, I ask.

HE: I AM HAPPY BECAUSE I WILL SOON BE GOING HOME, MAN. 

Ah, home. 

Home I have said, home is where you, my beautiful beloved, are.  Your heart is where my home is.  HOKA HEY!!  IT IS A GOOD DAY TO LOVE. 

Home is where you are.  This is a great truth.  Just as this too is a great truth that HELL ARE OUR THOUGHTS.  Those negative thoughts and those negative people who constantly talk shit behind your back ... back stabbing sons of bitches. 

beautiful beloved, I am reminded of a song by Sepultura

Under a pale grey sky
We shall arise...

Chances are that the sky will always be grey.  I know this because when we go out and I look up, almost always unless it is raining or cloudy, the sky is always grey and clear.  This means then that you can put me down for only a certain amount of time, but I WILL ARISE.  I will awake.  I will survive.  And I will fly again.  

Thank you so very much my beautiful love.  Thank you very much.  May god bless you ... always protect you and give you peace.  

I LOVE YOU VERY VERY MUCH MY DEAREST MAYA.  I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.