Idle anthem.

Some things are better left unsaid, in the pit of your stomach, festering heartache of what could have been. Some things are better left alone, in dark corners of houses that used to be your haven.

Love, your heart is a gruesome desire of “can’t be” and “what should have been”. Your soul is tainted by screeching voices coming out of your bones.

You’ve come a long way, put the past in a box, wrapped it up nicely in a ribbon. You’ve made yourself a little gift, haven’t you? Thinking that if something so ugly from within looked remotely pleasant, it would feed your imagination with crude images of maybe-s.
Straighten up, hold it in, smile little puppet. You haven’t even began to understand all the ways in which you are broken.
Stand tall, aim high, you know it’s only a matter of time until you fall. But that’s alright because in any case, what other choice do you have?
You’re made of tiny bits, glued together by hopeful redemption, by sorrow and ambition. And you are worthy of love, the kind that will turn your scars into works of art.

Goodnight Moon*

I watch the tide rise up to shore

And sand fades away with the rush

While seagulls fly into the horizon

And the sun is dimmed under the sea


I tuck her in and hold her light

Looking for a brighter day

But as the moon rises into the sky

She whispers dreams unconceivable unreal

That can brighten any night like seven golden suns


I cannot feel my fingertips running through the cold grains

And while the breeze strokes my skin

I smile eyes wide shut


My, oh my, how can it be

That such unfathomable thoughts

Can simply come to life


Let’s walk on the wooden deck hand in hand

Crackling and squeaking under our trembling steps

I hear your smile and see your voice

Entering this heart of mine

Wrap me up

Hold me down

I can live in this moment


But we walk hand in hand onto the sea

Dark under our feet

I will drink your stars bubbling in my throat

They shall never faint or wither


I thirst for nothing but for you

And the moon smiles

She smiles firing stars from every orbit

From every galaxy

Into the atmosphere where we both exist at the same time

And I hold your hand as we dance

Gracefully madly on our toes


Your eyes are speaking so loudly,

They silence my words

My brain is exploding with every word I ever learnt

But nothing


I gaze as you swirl

I gaze as you play with time

I gaze as you laugh and sing and dance


Ever so mesmerizing

Ever so fascinating

How did we get here?

In all of this world

With all of its people

How did our constellations fall into the same embrace?


I hold your hand as you fall on the sand

And kiss your lips

For what seems like a lifetime of thunder storms

And lightning bolts

I kiss your lips

And fall behind

Time seizes to exist


And the sun, she rises

Sneaking a peak from behind the doors of heaven

And my heart breaks as I hide you in the folds of my thoughts


Good night moon


Good morning sun.

Still forest.

There is a me inside, that I keep at a distance; intangible, unattainable, almost mystical

Shadows of a light; precautious and fearful in the waves of the winds

Breathe me in and breathe me out, I will bend and twitch, curve and bow

You can’t tumble down my white walls of lies and hidden locks;

Now you may drizzle on my ray of light and hope to fade it into the night,

But how can you expect a little bit of rain, to shun out something that the mind can’t contain.



My twisted mind may be unacceptable, despised by a society terribly ignorant,

And my body may be a sin of sorts, inviting you to praise the Satan from within.

For all intense and purposes, you search for a soul to blame and condemn and prosecute;

Knowing well that in fact, you can never fight something so instinctive so divine.


Build me up inside your mind; display me on your crystal pedestal,

Make me into some forbidden lust; it only grows weary on me.


There is a me inside, that I keep at a distance; for you will never comprehend,

You will never seize the depths of my depth,

The breath to my inner soul,

The demons in my innocent glare,

The light in the shadow of my fingertips.

The mere fact.

How funny is it, that the little things in life scare us  the most…

We’re afraid of getting out of bed in the morning and facing  all of the mistakes we made the day before.

We’re afraid of walking down the street and stumbling into the people who hurt us the most and still act polite and stupidly strong.

We’re afraid we’d fail at a job we want to excel and stand out at.

We’re afraid of voicing out our feelings and admitting being head over heals in love with the last person that would reciprocate.

We’re afraid of not being able to break out of this vicious cycle of boredom, ambiguity and the shadows in between.

And most most of all we’re afraid of the eyes that will look right through us and see how scared and broken we truly are.

Prison à ciel ouvert.

As I sit here, back in the garden I once was so familiar with, in the home that was once my haven, in the midst of the trees that were once 2 feet tall, I listen to the quite embrace of the breeze and I reminisce.

I remember the time when I “fell in love” with the first boy in my life. I was 12 at most. We used to ride the bike everyday through the summer. Then he had the brilliant idea of sending me a piece of paper with the question: “will you be my girlfriend” with three little boxes: yes, no, maybe.

Of course I said yes, and everything went downhill since that day. I was too scared to see him face to face and act all lovey dovey with him (even though by all standards that’s all we did before). And so I used to stand by my window behind the curtain and he would ride his bike past by and wave at me for hours…

Labels… how they ruin things.

My next boyfriend, when I grew up just a tiny bit older, I was more comfortable with for he was genuinely a nice guy who never pushed me past my capacities or my limits (or even the limits of our society which are very restraint, like very) and we used to talk on the phone all the time.

But then I had to tell my parents, who started planning and interfering, putting way too much pressure on a childhood crush and an adolescent relationship.

Again, labels crashed it all…

Then there was the big love in my high school life, my best friend. I suppose at the time we were confused between the limits between a close friendship between a guy and a girl on one hand, and the meaning of relationship on the other. And because we just had to label our relationship, I lost both my best friend and my boyfriend en un seul coup.

Need I say it again?

Then of course, you move out of your parents’ well structured cocoon into the real world that is abrupt, rude, condescending, ruthless and full of labels: the way you dress, your shoe brand, the people you hang out with, the major you’re studying, the music you listen to, the nail polish you use, the boy you date, the car you drive, the causes you support, the relationships you create.
By Ibai Acevedo

It’s as if society wants to make it so hard for you to figure yourself out and know who you are and what you expect of this world, in order for you to fall in the standards it has created for you. Almost as if it is not conceivable to create your own personality from scratch and stand out from the rest.

As I sit in this garden that holds no secrets from me, I look at the now darkened sky. They sparkle, little shiny stars in the most beautiful sky. The all shine just the same radiant and sublime. But none of them is identical to the other. So similar and yet completely different.

How can a society grow and learn? How can a country evolve and mature? How can an individual experience their full potential in a country that still fights over religion, homosexuality and women’s rights?

A society is a generated result of many people’s minds, opinions and doings all put together. It cannot be confined in a box and have its growth potential limited.

And if so, it can no longer be called a society:  un prison a ciel ouvert.

the two masks of hypocrisy.

Merriam-Webster defines hypocrisy as “feigning to be what one is not or to believe what one does not; especially: the false assumption of an appearance of virtue or religion.”

It is socially agreed upon that a hypocrite person is anyone who pretends to be something/one they’re not. When you walk past a woman, who has obviously had a couple of plastic surgeries, this word comes across your mind. When you’re with a group of friends and one of them is talking about her bungalow in Faraya and her Chalet in the South (even though you grew up in the same village) you think to yourself “what a hypocrite”. When your roommate comes back each night with 3 shopping bags, even though you know her parents are abroad forbidden to come back to these territories, you roll your eyes as she turns her back…

Yes we face hypocrisy in each and every day of our lives. We come across it and feel proud that we recognize it and solemnly say to whoever wants to listen that “I can deal with all kinds of people, except hypocrites.”

Ah, but then comes the dilemma…

When your mother has herself a face lift, because it’s one of her horrors to be getting old and she wants to enjoy her youth as much as possible, that’s not hypocrisy. When you feign to be spending your summer at your beach house, in order to blend in with the social bourgeois you so desperately want to hang out with, that’s not hypocrisy. When you go buy yourself a gorgeous 200$ dress, even though you know your father is going through hell to put you through college, so you could attend your university gala, that’s not hypocrisy

So which one is it… are all human hypocrite, or are they not?
By Ibai Acevedo

The little loophole exists, but it is not to help you cover your actions, or to give excuses to people to act out beyond their character.

However, people must keep in mind that everything in this life is relative. Nothing is ever objective and general in this life. Variables change all the time and therefore all that is linked to them.

Before judging a person for who they seem to be, we must try to put ourselves in their shoes. Ask ourselves “why are they acting this way?”, “why does she feel the need to put on that mask around me?”, “why can’t she just be herself around them?”

Don’t get me wrong; as I said before, this has not a purpose of giving a person an alibi for their actions. But when you start understanding the reasons behind a person’s actions, a certain energy flow will go through both of you. Consequently, he/she will feel more comfortable in this safe/open/honest conversation and will lower their guards.

You see it’s not in a human’s nature to be hypocrite. Sure it exists. But it doesn’t come as an instinct. However, one of the most basic human impulses is self protection and preservation. Subsequently, when a person feels threatened in their society, such as their college or wok place – maybe even their family – they will lift the wall and put on the mask for two reasons:

1-      To blend in with the masses

2-      To limit the access to the vulnerable, honest and real aspect  of their humanity

It is alright to want to protect yourself. However, keep in mind, that every day is a struggle for everyone: the hardship of blending in, the need to rise up on the social scale, the protection of one’s entity…  but you have to try and be open to the various reasons why each person has the defense mechanism armor up.

On the other hand, you have to also allow yourself to let your guards down when you see a window of understanding or feel that energy flow with a person. It’s all a matter of give and take.

So next time you walk past that 40-something woman with a perfectly lifted face, think to yourself “that’s pretty courageous of her”. When you hear your friend showing off about the properties she doesn’t have, let her know that at least when it comes down to you she could be herself completely. And when your roommate walks in with Bvlgari and Longchamps bags smile at her and let her know how she is a wonderful person with or without those brands.