Ballerina Dreams

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

Her feet that swayed and floated,

Waltzing and turning,

Over my sugar coated dreams.

The flowers of your hair resemble you, 

Their petals look like your lips,

And their color to your cheeks,

It is far from a coincidence, I usually think.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For life is too short,

And you are too young,

Keep spinning those feet,

Until the sky, waltzing, you meet.

That crown of roses that in your hair you wear,

Their scent is drawn away by yours,

Twice as sweet, and twice as good,

It is far from a coincidence, my mind repeats.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For you portray grace itself,

And your feet can finally reach,

Reach all of the stars we have seen,

With our own eyes many nights,

And guided us home with a song.

All the roses I see resemble you,

In scent, beauty and color,

There's no doubt when saying,

That for all the roses on this lonely Earth,

You were God's only muse

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For the sun and moon have kissed you,

And the clouds and stars have joined you,

And all that is, is dancing,

Dancing along with you.

Oh, spinning beauty of love,

Have I seen one like you before,

I don't remember quite still,

For all the world I've seen in maps, 

But never in the colors you have just given it. 

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

The sun has gone to dance as well,

The moon is at your hight, but with respect,

It embraces all your moves, and like it, you start to glow,

The moon has joined you,

You became the moon.

If I hold you in my arms,

As a tiny little doll you'd be,

Fragile, and transparent,

Made of delicate white crystal,

Yet shining like diamonds, yet to show all their beauty.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina, 

As on Earth the day is over,

But the dawn lies far away,

For we both have ran farther,

Than any man has been.

And all the stars,

And moons,

And suns,

All have joined her,

And all are dancing,

Slowly becoming part of her,

And her becoming part of them,

They're all one, and dance to the melody of the universe,

The purest melody of the purest of love.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

As no matter how far from the world we are,

No matter how much we dance,

I'll always be here,

Holding your rose scented hand,

Stretching mine to reach you.

Even if on Earth I lay,

While the cosmos you explore,

My head high I'll hold still,

As you come back, to wipe my tears away.

Dance, dance, my beautiful ballerina,

For your dancing feet are not tired,

And keep spinning and waltzing,

To the melody of God,

But if you keep turning and turning,

And I find myself lucky,

Those feet will bring you back to me again.

This poem came out of my head today, I had been thinking of ballet, and I think it is one of the most graceful, and beautiful ways to express love and art. The music is complementary, and quite essencial as well, I think instrumentals are songs that express the composer's soul without lyrics, but make it even more real, it becomes the symphony of the composer's heart, and the dance is another symphony joining it, and showing they're own melody by graceful movement. I adore ballet with all my might, and as much as I would love to dance ballet, maybe it's for the best, my weak knees would not manage to do most of the moves, for as elastic as I can get to be. Besides, from afar I can watch it and see it, and quietly join it. Quietly, subtly become one with many of the souls that dance, and my eyes can see the music notes flying from outside their chests, along with their feelings and love for the world. Dancing is their way of showing the world their gratefulness, their gratefulness of hearing their own hearts beating, and their skin tickling, and lungs breathing.

Or at least that's what I think...

The kisses of a thousand winds, and the waltzing of a thousand stars,

-Maria Gabriella Parraga

Querida Mejor Amiga:

Enserio lo lamento. Lamento que todo haya cambiado. Y no sé todavia que hacer. Pero te diré, aunque probablemente no lo leas, porque de seguro tu si estas haciendo tu tarea de sociales en vez de escribir sobre algo ya no no aguantas mas, o estas con tu nuevo 'crush'. De todos modos ni lees mi blog, no te interesa. Pero, eso si, te diré lo que NO haré.

 No diré que esto fue mi culpa, al menos no toda lo fue, se necesitan dos personas para pelear. No creeré que esta destinado en mi ser el apoyo de los demás, esa niña que deja que todo el mundo le pase encima con el pretexto de que ella los esta ayudando. NO! Yo se que si es cierto ahora, pero no lo sera mas. YA NO. No tratare, al igual que tú, de pretender ser una persona con una mascara. Tú nada mas deberías darte cuenta que si paras de forzar la imagen de ser diferente a los demás, (que se nota con cada comentario leve como ''A mi nada me da asco'' o ''Yo no soy así, yo nunca he sido así'' o ''No, a mi no me gusta pegarle a las personas ni hablar mal de ellas'' por que por la manera en la que la dices al menos yo que te conozco mas que nadie, se que es mentira.) deberías nada mas ser tú. Descubrir quién eres, no inventar o imaginar quien eres. 

"Life isn't about discovering yourself, it's about creating yourself'' Una gran mentira. Yo no puedo cambiar lo que me gusta, eso es algo del corazón. Lo puedo ignorar, pero por qué haría eso? Así que ojalá pudiera decirte a ti en la cara esto, para que por el amor de Dios, cambiaras ya de actitud. Pero lastimosamente, ademas de ser muy mal visto en sociedad y de que te lastimaria y cuando uno lastima a los demás se lastima uno mismo, tambien soy muy cobarde para de hecho hacerlo, y eso le pondría fín a nuestra amistad que cada vez mas se derrumba poco a poco.

Desde que tuviste un novio por primera vez, del que debo aclarar las dos nos habíamos enamorado y tú lo conseguiste, has cambiado demasiado, y pareces tan lejana a tu imagen de antes. Ahora se siente tú ego desde lejos, se siente que tu ahora crees que eres más de lo que realmente eres. Solo por haber tenido novio. No te enseñare esto, tu tendrás que encontrarlo tu misma, quizás cuando el Espíritu Santo baje del cielo y te ilumine la mente para que todas las nubes de egoísmo de vayan y al fín se vea, borrosa, mi imagen en pequeño, y mis sentimientos. Y nuestra amistad.

Algo mas que no hare es tratar de fingir que no me has lastimado, por que ser una mártir es algo tan patético que ya no me permitiré más ser. Ya basta María Gabriella! Ya basta! Es suficiente que las cosas vayan mal y es mucho peor que tu desees que pasen cosas malas para que la gente se compadezca de tí! Eso es patético! Es inmoral! Ya basta! Eres un ser humano! Eres hija de Dios! Eres de alma pura y corazón grande! No es justo para el mundo ni para tí misma que te trates así! Si el Universo hubiera querido que la gente te usara para pasarle encima, hubieras nacido alfombra. Pero no naciste alfombra, o si? Entonces deja de actuar como una, que vales mucho mas que eso.

Escucha amiga mia, solo te pediré un favor, ok?

Enserio. No finjas que te importa, porque se nota qué no, y duele mas ver una sonrisa falsa que una cara seria.  Si no te importo, dímelo, por favor. Yo sé que no te importo, porque si lo hiciera, no sería yo la unica revisando el blog de la otra para ver como realmente se siente. Yo te pregunte la dirección del tuyo... Tu nunca me pediste el mio, y cuando aún así te lo dí, nunca lo viste, lo sé. Me hubieras dicho algo. De todos modos nada más aun qué no lo leas quiero con todo mi corazón que no pretendas que te importa, no quiero mas excusas patéticas e increíbles de por que es que me dejas botada, no quiero mas ser mamá gallina, eres mi amiga, no mi hija, somos iguales e independientes, que yo sea (honestamente y sin presumir ni mentir) mas madura que tu espiritualmente, no significa que tengas el derecho de tratarme como tu mamá. Siempre eres egoísta.

No es obligación mia ayudarte, lo hago por que quiero, y no es cierto que eres mejor amiga que yo, sácatelo de la cabeza, pues además de haberme quitado a quién yo crei empezar a amar, presumírmelo, criticarlo en frente mio, tirarlo y cortar con el, enamorarte de su mejor amigo y nunca preguntarme como me siento al respecto, nunca te importa como yo estoy, qué es lo que pienso, como veo yo el mundo... Nunca me has preguntado tu quien me gusta, te lo he tenido que decir yo, y ademas de que ahora estoy enamorada de alguien más todavia, al igual que la fractura que siento que fue tu culpa que tengo, duele ver tu traición. Traición de la cual nunca te disculpaste.

Ahora después de todo eso creo que quizás ya se lo que voy a hacer, voy a hacer lo que tengo que hacer, y mañana me levantare con una sonrisa, por que no importa cuantas veces me levanto de las cenizas como fénix, y cuantas veces me vuelven a derribar, seguiré luchando contra la vida, y le demostraré qué con buena voluntad y energía positiva, ella no podrá vencerme fácil. Nunca me rendiré.

Pero lo único que se que tengo que hacer por seguro es la tarea de estudios sociales, ya que ya me había comprometido a hacerlo y enserio no me gusta no cumplir con mis promesas.

Y esto es lo que pienso...

El color de un millón de lapas, y el canto de mil corazones latiendo,

María Gabriella Párraga.

It all started with a bike...

It all started with a bike,
And a boy who was it's owner,
With brown hair and big eyes,
And a mouth shaped like petals.

Why?
That's the only question I can possibly formulate,
It's the only one whom I seek answer,
Yet probably the only one whose answer I'll never get.

It all started with a bike,
And a girl who loved to ride them,
Whose best friend just moved to her neighborhood,
Barely a couple doors away.

It hurts, and much more on the inside of the shell,
The shell I want to wear,
The shell that protects me from pain,
But never did such a good job either.

It all started with a bike,
And the girl's twin brother,
Who kindly introduced both,
The two best friends to the boy.

I still hear it when the world is silent,
When the hearts decide to quiten,
When my ears catch its painful sound,
The sound of breaking bones, crunching strongly.

It all started with a bike,
And a playful game the girls played,
And a handsome boy who played with them,
Of stealing the boy's bike to ride it.

One day it all changed,
And I deep down feel the victim,
How could it all feel so dead to me?
Even the inside of myself.

It all started with a bike,
And a bad friend who wanted the boy to herself,
Who sent the girl through a joke,
To take a ride on the bike.

She didn't do it on purpose, I like to think,
No one is ever so mean,
And she could get what she wanted, it's true,
But, it's so impossible to believe...

It all started with a bike,
And a rock from a constuction,
That stood in the middle of a speedbump,
And was not seen by the girl.

She didn't do it on purpose, I like to think,
But maybe she just did,
After all it's not the first time,
She could get what she wanted by wishing tragedy others.

It all started with a bike,
That easily fell foward,
Making the girl fly two meters and a half,
Until her body met the street.

But now I know well,
My chance has gone away,
My body is mistreated and hurt,
And even if denied, it seeks comfort.

It all started with a bike,
That broke a girl's heart,
Her soul,
And three of her bones.

And what did you do when I was gone, ''my friend''?
Did you come to visit me?
Did you even call me?
Did you rembember I existed?

Or did I become as invisible as you were before me?
Before I taught you how to enjoy life,
How to make innocent pranks,
How to live an authentic life,
And not a shiny plastic fake mask.

As invisible as you say you are,
But know you just were,
You think it's fine, but it's not,
To step on my heart like you already did.

The answer is easy,
And even painful to say,
You didn't care a damn about me,
You just went straight to get him.

And you are such a bounder,
You even asked me for advice on how to get him,
And I was brainless enough to help you,
Now I see how it all blooms, from a far distant place.

Why are you so selfish?
Why am I so selfless?
You only care about you,
I do anything but that.

I told you so many times what I felt for him,
But you didn't even listen,
For you are so deft when it comes to hearing,
Something you don't want to hear.

Now you tell me you never knew,
When I was finally brave enough to tell you,
You just told me I never told you,
Lying is a sin, in case you didn't know.

It all started with a bike,
And the boy rides it everyday,
And the two girls ride it ocasionally,
Together just the two best friends.

Maybe it's all moving on,
And I'm the one stuck in the past,
I know I should head foward,
Yet it pains me for my story to go unheard.

Maybe you two will never read this,
Your eyes are full of the other's,
Maybe you two will never speak about it,
Your mouths are too busy doing something else.

I can not possibly say I hate her,
She is my very best friend,
I feel that somehow I am princess,
Who wants to play prince as well.

I want to be rescued,
Yet rescue everyone else first,
If a boat finds itself sinking,
I'll probably sink with it as well.

It all started with a bike,
That lead a friend and a boy to love,
Itself and a girl to a crash,
And her heart and her bones to a breaking.

I wrote this when I was really depressed, and I hope I don't give a bad portrayal of my best friend, it was just the moment of all those stacked up and held back feelings I just couldn't help it. I decided to upload it anyhow since I think it ended up looking pretty beautiful (depressing) but beautiful. I now think I'm over him, but he was never really the thing... The opportunity of falling in love was what she took away from me, and I can't help but feel jealous a bit. Maybe the ressentment was what caused it to look so angry when I was actually crying a river calm when I wrote it.

The heat of a thousand stars and the scent of a thousand carnations,

-María Gabriella Párraga

Mis 30 Reglas Para Vivir

1. Sé abierto.
2. Nunca te rindas.
3. Haz más de lo que te hace feliz.
4. Disfruta de la vida.
5. Duerme mucho.
6. Recibe mucho aire fresco. Admira el color y verdor de la naturaleza de vez en cuando.
7. Sonríe.
8. Piensa en nueve cosas imposibles antes del desayuno.
9. Piensa en diez cosas hermosas antes del almuerzo.
10. Piensa en once cosas que te encanta que sean parte de tu vida antes de que anochezca.
11. No eres perfecto y nunca lo puedes llegar a ser. Acéptalo con una sonrisa.
12. No te asustes de cometer errores, es algo natural, y es mejor no intentar y fallar que no haber intentado por miedo a fracasar.
13. No niegues tus equivocaciones ni trates de cubrirlas, solo harás el ridículo. Mejor acepta que te equivocaste y mejora.
14. Después de cena, lava los platos.
15. Respira hondo.
16. No defiendas tu ego. Discúlpate con quien has hecho daño y perdona a quien te ha lastimado.
17. La magia es creer en ti mismo. Si puedes hacer eso, no hay nada que no puedas hacer.
18. Toma té y mira la lluvia caer con alegría.
19. Toma mucha agua.
20. Sé gentil y amigable con las personas; trata a todos bien antes de darles la oportunidad de tratarte mal.
21. Sé agradecido.
22. Todo existe por una razón. De no tener una, no existiría.
23. Se honesto y sincero.
24. Ámate a ti mismo.
25. Toma una siesta.
26. Nunca juzgues a las personas por los errores que cometen. Tu has cometido errores alguna vez también.
27. Aprende algo nuevo cada día.
28. Se necesitan dos personas para que haya una victima, la que ataca y quiere lastimar, y la que es lo suficientemente tonta para dejar que la hieran. No seas ninguna, vive amando.
29. Sé tu mismo y di lo que piensas, porque a los que les importas nunca importan y a los que importan, nunca les importas.
30. Naces para morir, es cierto. (Pero naces para vivir antes de hacerlo)

What is a Soul?

What is a soul? How does it look like?

Perhaps like a never ending river,

Perhaps like a forever rich brown soil,

Perhaps like a never ending deep greenery,

Or a forever rich sentiment of love...

Has anyone seen one before?

Everybody says they haven't,

Everybody says you can't,

Everybody, yet, claims to have one.

Of unraveling that mystery,

I find myself far,

Of what causes my misery,

And fills me with scars.

The scars themselves are invisible,

Can only be seen through the eye,

Since through them the soul is reachable,

And those colorful orbs can not lie.

Must I search the world in vain,

Until the end I shall persist,

To find the source of that pain,

And to prove if it exists.

And though soul and eye have not met,

And the only proof we have is the feel,

My soul itself I'd trade and bet,

To know if it is real.

I let my frustrations fly along the wind,

Until one day they found the reaper,

And all the way back to me they'd grind,

Just to bring me a deadly whisper.

No answer whatsoever,

So I must find another choice,

Someone who knows what is forever, 

And whom I can reach their voice.

And since death and life are like peas on a pod,

My frustrations by something strange were led,

By love and peace they were fed,

And found themselves in front of God.

His voice my ears could caress,

My heart would dance and move,

So heavily against my dress,

As a light my whole would sooth,

And my body embrace.

"My daughter", the light announced,

The grim whisper was slowly banned,

And as he talked my drumming chest bounced,

"Do not worry, for I have everything planned".

That is all he said to me,

And around me I built a coffin,

For as much as I could see,

He had told me nothing.

I went all the way to the hills,

Where a monk prayed along the chills,

And even if with questions I was infested,

He did not look molested.

Then I unleashed my doubts on him,

As I rambled my voice was sour,

What is a soul, I repeated firm,

Yet he stood quiet, and gave me a flower.

I looked not at it, and instead braided,

That plant to my hair, and kept walking,

I thought the monk was surely mocking,

For the smile on his face had not faded.

I rolled my eyes and left the mountains,

As the grassland turned to sea shells,

I found myself before a fountain,

Believed by the people to grant wishes.

I sat with fear along its border,

And at the liquid crystal gazed,

As I touched the water became amazed,

I had imagined it'd be colder.

I tossed a coin and made my wish,

It sank next to golden purple fish,

Opened my eyes expecting power,

Yet instead in front of me fell the flower.

Realization upon me spread well,

As I looked at it's yellow petals,

And as heavy as solid metal,

My answer finally fell.

As my reflection on the water showed,

My euphoric eyes would gaze,

At my grinning lips that laced,

As they said " I shall never know"

The colorfulness of your soul, and the brightness of a thousand stars,

-María Gabriella Párraga

(Perdón por escribir en ingles, pero es que si intentaba traducir este poema a español iba a perder el sentimiento que intente que moldeara. Espero a los que entienden que les haya gustado.)

Creo que me he enfermado...

Nerviosamente temblando están mis labios,
un inquieto cosquilleo se esparce por mi cara,
Confusos y enredados sentimientos varios,
Se apoderan fríamente de mi alma entera.

No puedo pensar nada claro,
En mi lengua hay un sabor raro,
De desconocida amargura y dolor,
De mi ser que ha perdido todo color,

En mi garganta una ácida picazón,
Mi nariz de recibir aire es incapaz,
Con una espada me atraviesa el corazón,
Una fuerza de horror tenaz.

Maldad pura y vil,
Aseguradora y amorosa acaricia mi cutis,
Pretende ser buena y civil,
Pero me llena con una inseguridad infeliz,

Torna helado mi cachete,
Como el mas frió de los inviernos,
Corta filoso como machete,
Hace de mi cielo un infierno.

Cuando cierro mis parpados,
El mundo se vuelve pesado,
Pero en silencio una risa macabra,
Hace que de inmediato los abra.

Miedo tengo, y no lo negare,
Que sea de verdad, y no solo yo exagerando,
Peor de lo que me imagine,
Y mañana no me vaya despertando.

Quizás no es tan drástico,
Pero la duda queda en mi mente,
¿Como lo vera la demás gente?
Por que decir que es algo fantástico,
Seria ir mas allá de lo inocente.

De como me siento he gritado,
Con mugidos y quejas lo enfrento,
Aun que haya sido ignorada,
Entre ruidos y lagrimas me doy cuenta,
Parece que me he enfermado.

Y el mundo se ríe de mi.

O al menos es lo que pienso...

La calidez de mil abrazos y la salud que ahora no gozo,

María Gabriella Párraga.

El Romance al Alma Propia

¿Que es peor que un corazón roto y vencido?
Quizás el de nunca haber sentido,
El de un corazón que amor no ha conocido,
Por el simple miedo de ser herido.

¿Vale la pena arriesgarlo todo,
Por la vaga idea de ser amado?
¿Es acaso esa la suprema meta,
La manera en la piensan todos en este planeta?

Cuando se sueña la, la vida es eterna,
cuando se vive, es corta,
Al igual que el aceite en una linterna,
Poco a poco se agota.

Colores abundantes circulan por mi cabeza,
Aves y pétalos en el viento vuelan con destreza,
Es difícil creer y saber con certeza,
Que de verdad existe tal belleza.

Nos rodean vientos soleados sigilosos,
Susurrándonos verdades bajo cielos majestuosos,
Verdades dichas en modos cariñosos,
Mientras admiramos paisajes hermosos.

¿Y arriesgaríamos todo eso,
Por la vacía promesa de un beso?

Pero la verdad que todo aquello,
No lo es sin el amor,
Sin el, todo aquello,
Se vuelve simple y despreciado verdor.

Pensar con el alma en vez de el cerebro,
Ver la realidad con los ojos cerrados,
Dejarse llevar hasta que de tu cuerpo cada miembro,
No de alguien, sino del mundo estén enamorados.

Viviendo así  todo es mas claro,
Tu solido cuerpo se vuelve transparente,
Al principio sera raro,
Pero verás todo como es realmente.

Vive despreocupada y sonriente,
Yo sé que te quieres enamorar,
Pero eres impaciente,
Hay un mundo que explorar,
Tienes que conocer mucha gente,
Lugares celestiales visitar.

Haz todo eso enamorada,
No de un humano común y corriente,
Sino algo que sinceramente,
Merezca tu corazón y mirada.

Hablo de algo mas poderoso y profundo,
Algo mas grande y maravilloso que este mundo,
Algo mas sagrado que el ángel que te cuida,
Hablo de tu alma, y de tu magnifica vida.

Sonríe por que respiras,
Sonríe por que te aman,
Sonríe por que naciste humana,
Sonríe por tener alma.

¡SONRÍE!

Por que vale la pena ser feliz...

O al menos es lo que pienso...

El esplendor de mil lunas, y el amor de mil Dioses,

-María Gabriella Párraga.