The Observatory.
Though the trucks disrupt me when I’m thinking, it’s fine.
Sometimes I look forward to see them.

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All original content © Kevin Enriquez.


I sit in my room till 3 a.m.
and browse through stacks of books,
looking for some answers.
It’s been two days since I slept.
I’m starting to get dizzy even
when I’m sitting down.

I read poetry, non-fiction,
autobiographies, and short stories.
I scan an advice column six times over.
I flip through newspapers and grocery lists,
but nothing says what I want it to.

I stand up.
My head topples to the ground.
I wake up on my bedroom floor,
with my hands gripping a stack of books.

I do this,
one day
two days
three days
four days,
until I decide to put off
searching for just a second.
I pick up a notebook.
I get myself a pen.
I stare at it blankly
for one minute
two minutes
three minutes
four minutes,
then write:

Something tells me
if I want my questions
answered by what I’ve read,
I’m going to have to
write it myself.

Did You Think It Was Going To Be Easy? | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)
Hat Trick.

Rob Canals
"I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided."
— Fernando Pessoa (via tierradentro)
O.T.W.O., Pt. III.
"Sometimes it feels too good to know that I am not."
— Irina Blechman, Riddles