It’s Not Your Time

It’s Not Your Time

It’s a way that sadness manifests itself. A depressive period where you’re trying to make yourself feel anything else other than you. Coping skills are what define you during this moment.

Please know that it won’t last forever. What you do during this period might do, however.

Continue reading “It’s Not Your Time”

Falling Gently

Falling Gently

This post is about self-awareness. I was on a funk for some time. Now, things are different because I think about them differently.

Its perspective.

As I’ve discussed on my last post update, I took a break from digital distractions. I realized in a few days how much time I had to do things that brought me joy. I’m working on song ideas after challenging the assumption that I’m too busy for music.

In reality, I wasn’t focused. 

Distraction took a toll on me.

The funk I experienced was a byproduct of how I was spending my time. I was feeling unproductive, without energy. I felt that I was heading towards a period of depression. I knew I wasn’t my usual self.

My mind and body were giving me the signals that I wasn’t living, but surviving. I wasn’t sleeping well. I was eating poorly. I was reactive instead of proactive.

I was falling gently into the vice grip of depression.

I had this feeling that I was sabotaging myself. I made the choice to be alone for some time to think. Taking stock on what I was doing, the story I was telling others and to myself. 

I parted ways with my now ex-partner. That turned out to be the catalyst for inner growth and self-improvement. It was a moment that gave me clarity. 

I learned that I can’t save others from themselves. I had to lose my self in the process to understand it. I had to take the fall. I just wished it wasn’t that gently, but I had to live the process, too.

It has been several weeks since then. What’s interesting is that my schedules got more demanding. I’m doing two positions at my job, plus my weekend internship, and my classes. I’m doing twice as more before the pre-onset of depression.

And you know what? I actually feel better. There’s power on time constrictions. Its making me get my act together, and start doing instead of focusing too much on my story. 

What I mean by the above is that I’m realizing how much our inner voice and what we say to others matters

If I keep thinking how miserable I am, and keep telling my story in that way, well, my perspective and belief system starts following that idea, too. I started to change my perspective and be mindful of how I tell my story. 

I started to be more aware with whom I was spending my time with. More importantly, to whom and to what I was giving my attention to. I started to break free from those self-imposed burdens.

I feel different since then. I feel that I’m reaching a different level of consciousness and awareness. I’m calmer, less reactive. My friends and colleagues tell me that I look different, happier, and at peace. 

I’m changing my story. I’m changing my environment and relationships. I’m not surviving for now, I’m living a different story. I’m confident that more challenges and set backs will come.

I won’t let them take me down gently when it happens.

Thank you for reading.

Mondai nai,

-Ernesto

New EP Out Now

Hello,

I’ve released a new spoken-word, 11 tracks EP in Spanish. It’s titled “Diferencial: Tuvo un Día Triste” (Differential: He had a sad day). 

Diferencial: Tuvo un Día Triste

This EP is composed of poems that I wrote, based on love and heartbreak with the point of view of someone who has a mental health condition. 

It deals with topics of anxiety, lack of emotions, the silences that couples experience at times when there’s much to say.

It explains that sensation when someone you care about tries to diagnose you unintentionally, out of curiosity. 

The music itself is minimalistic. The main focus was on the vocals, which were difficult to record but forced me to be creative with the tools I had. 

Overall, I’m satisfied with this experiment. I’m visualizing more of this, but more guitar driven. 

This EP is also available on Apple Music, YouTube, Amazon, and on most streaming services. 

Muchas Gracias,

-Ernesto

Mirrors (The Devil) – Lyrics

Mirrors (The Devil) – Lyrics

Mirrors

I just crossed the line
With graceful movements
I saw the evil in my eyes
In the mirror monuments

Fear screamed from the mirror
A fear I couldn’t believe
A fear so mysterious
A fear with no reason to be

Walking forward, with no direction
I immerse myself into dimensions
Looking for answers, asking the questions
Nobody is there

I have nobodies’ attention

The corner of the room
With white walls that turn black
That is the place where the fears start to bloom
Once they are in, there is no turning back

Blinded with blasts of paranoia
Penetrating my eyes
It gives me feels of euphoria
A feeling that I have to hide

Forcing the throat
To scream away the fears
Until the bleeding comes
Until the ears cannot resist

Terrorizing howls enter through my mind
Then they turn into images of horror
And through my eyes pass by
Black, gray, and red are the colors

That kill the soul inside

Everything started that morning
While staring at the mirror
I found another face

And it wasn’t me
It was the devil.


Writing About What Hurts

Writing About What Hurts

“Write hard and clear about what hurts.”

― Ernest Hemingway 

This quote has been inside my mind lately. Most of my writing is inspired by what’s hurting and confusing me. The struggles of trying to give meaning to what I can’t explain to someone in person. Explaining how I feel can be problematic. Sometimes, I can’t emulate to others how I feel at the moment.

I express myself better when I sit down to write. It’s a type of ritual that gives me understanding. It’s a form of meditation that helps me see what’s my problem. The feeling of clarity that I get through journaling is therapeutic. The act of writing about what hurts demands attention. This helps me focus in the moment. The chaos stops expanding, and starts focusing on what’s happening now. 

Looking at yourself can be difficult. You might choose to look to the other side, and that’s okay, too. When I’m in that state of not wanting to see what’s going on, I know that sooner or later I’ll be looking at my reflection. You can only hide pain for so long until your circles start to notice it as well.

Denial can be expressed without words. 

What hurts now is that I can’t hold grudges anymore. It’s been about 20 years since I made a vow to not forgive and to not forget. The moment I lost hope and respect to someone that I don’t even know anymore. I didn’t realize how much anger I had inside, but also how fragile that memory made me feel. I didn’t know that this memory still hurt. That’s why I’m writing today. It’s the beginning of a conversation with myself, and see why I can’t let it go.

Would you feel happy if you weren’t depressed anymore?

What would you do differently if that was the case?

What’s stopping you?

I’ll be thinking about these questions today.

Thank you for reading.

-Ernesto

Angry Hurricane – Lyrics

Angry Hurricane – Lyrics

I was feeling frustrated
I was not alone
And I just needed space

But I did not told you so
I chose to keep silence

And there I was, faking that I was fine
A hurricane of anger
But still, I made you a nice breakfast
Two eggs, sunny side up, fresh spinach and ham, with some coffee as well

I did not mention that I was furious
That I had a hurricane that was destroying me from the inside out
It was a hot summer morning
And I was feeling nothing close to warm inside

I became a frostbitten silent man
A speechless entity that was sharing breakfast next to you

I resembled more of a statue than a friend
I just did not wanted to be in me own skin
Mi silences started to speak by themselves
My body was screaming in desperation

I still do not know why I did not explode at that moment
I really wanted to release all of this

It seemed like a good idea to do it so by washing the dishes
And there I was, doing some occupational therapy

Until you noticed that the therapy that I needed was to leave me alone with my thoughts

You hugged me, and I could not hug you back the way I normally do
You left me alone, and I felt relief

I thought I handled it pretty damn good
I did not told you anything negative, nor insulting

I kept my thoughts and anger, and this hell of a hurricane inside of me as usual. As I always do.

This is just some wishful thinking
I wanted to believe that you didn’t notice
But I know you did

I know that you know my anger, and my silences
I forgot that tomorrow was your birthday

And here am I, creating havoc and hurricanes because I do not know any better

The Tree that Cried

The night brought the moonlight
Caressing the tree, with patience
Erasing the darkness around it
Giving it life among the dead

A garden full of murdered dreams.

Dreams that never came true
Dreams that waited an eternity
But the eternal has an end here
Infinity can stop on this garden

The tree couldn’t understand why
Why it was alone, surrounded by death
Entrenched in nothing bud sadness
Even its roots were flooded with anhedonia

A garden full of empty emotions.

Emotions that once were vibrant
Like the tree once was
A memory that is fading, slowly
All that is left is silence

The horrifying desperation of being alone.

The tree had nothing but the moon
That gave its light to it
Without questioning, without reasons
The tree didn’t wanted to know either

When everything around you is dead
Without dreams and hopes
Full of anhedonic creatures
Only your silence gives you company

All that’s left are the fading memories
Of what you used to be
The tree couldn’t help itself
It started to cry

The fear of nothingness arrived
The garden grew and expanded
The moon kept giving its light
Comforting the tree

But the tree was still alone.

During the Night

woman sleeping
Photo by Ivan Obolensky on Pexels.com


During the night

I feel them

Coming thirsty

Eating my will and confidence

A thousand hands

Reaching to my mind

Touching my fears

Tempting with my life

A voice speaking

“Good night”

Until I fall sleep

Nightmares rising

Waking alone

Full of marks and scars

Inside my thoughts I’m becoming

An outsider of my own mind.

I Remember

IMG_0737


“I remember the blood on the walls. The painting on the wall, it was her, the maiden with the black dress. It was her gaze, her black eyes that looked at me. The red was everywhere. I can’t forget it. I was laying on the floor, anxious and paranoid. And then, I saw hell on the tv screen.

I rise myself  and go to the bathroom. I looked at the mirror and my face wasn’t there. It was the head of an animal, with two long horns. My hearth stopped. I couldn’t look at the mirror. I didn’t wanted to see my inner demon.

My thoughts were rising. Everything was a spiral in my mind. Then I saw a letter that said that sometimes I hallucinate. That my mind was gaining control of me. The tears dropped on the letter. I felt guilty without apparent reason. All I knew was that the letter didn’t lie. Someone special sent it to me on my last day of transformation.

With such innocence, anyone can tell you the truth. That these were my last days of mental freedom. I became colder with my loved ones in one way or another. Since that day, people who knew me didn’t looked at me at the eyes the same way. Yet, I can see my weakness in their eyes. As if I lost a game and the consolation price was isolation.”

Until the Last


My time is neutral

It stopped in one scene

That’s why I’m immortal

 No more reason to bleed

One photograph tells my past

That I once lived with a smile

With a dream, without evil

Without negative desires

Even though my body is aging

Its my mind that doesn’t grow

I make the pain painless

But my body doesn’t stop

Like the rose that rises

Trying to touch the sun

It will die trying

Until the last pedal falls.

Eleven Years Ago: In Retrospect

Eleven Years Ago: In Retrospect

This past Friday, October 12, was my anniversary. When darkness happened. When the first set of symptoms triggered. When darkness arrived. I was 16 years old. I still wonder why.

The only worry I had is to get good grades. Making friends wasn’t necessarily a priority. I was a lonely guy. I didn’t mind. I preferred silence. My classmates used to call me “the silent one.” I used to wake up, go to school, ask questions during class, and go home. I had a few friends in my neighborhood. That’s all I needed. 

Then it happened.

Continue reading “Eleven Years Ago: In Retrospect”

Outlier

Outlier

“You’re an outlier,” she told me. “You’ve achieved so much compared to others,” she added. I couldn’t hold it. My eyes started tearing. My voice was cracking. I couldn’t reply to her. I’ve heard that before. Continue reading “Outlier”