Life and dreams are peculiar, contradictory and slippery. They are a reckless rollercoaster that go both ways. You could choose to avoid that reckless path of dreams but you may be denying true life.

Because when you dream, you’re risking to have nightmares.

Dreaming is not easy, you can fall to the ground and sometimes it’s even harder to get up. You can be beaten and fail. Dreaming is a reckless trance, full of free falls and dead ends. Full of labyrinths and lost clues. Full of cruel darkness and closed doors. But there’s always light at the end of that reckless path, there’s always a way out and a perfect door that will take you the right way.

You can choose not to fall down the trance at noon, when people start chasing their dreams. Or you can go down the peculiar path of the never-ending labyrinth. Dreaming is a reckless shadow that pays with the same coin. That flies high on winter days and slows down when summer arrives.

So you could choose to fear everything, not to go deeper, not to love, not to dream but not to live. Because when you dream, you’re risking to have nightmares, you’re risking to feel the reckless part of the slope. But it’s better to feel alive chasing nightmares than to die in a perfect paradise.






Like a boat abandoned in the middle of the ocean,

we aren’t able to see.

What we are sailing,

when we try to flee.


Like the inspiration running down the streams,

of the perfect illusion,

of perfect dreams.


A surrealist painting,

handling salt.

Driven by the wind,

with a landscape full of bittersweet.


Now, looking at the ocean,

and its foamy surface.

I look through a mirror

with it’s same purpose.


Don’t give up.

Look at the thousand ships around you,

waiting to set sail,

waiting to be tamed.


Taken from: url




Counting sheep

One sheep, for the early morning breeze.

Two sheep, for all the faces we won’t ever know.

Three sheep, for the conversations taking place in the street.

Four sheep, for the spirits dancing between the crowd.

Five sheep, for the things we achieve.

Six sheep, for the things we lose.

Seven sheep, for the family waiting for us at home.

Eight sheep, for the true friends holding our hands.

Nine sheep, for the first smile of a thundering heart in love.

And ten sheep.

Ten sheep for the musicians that make souls sing, for the writers that make hearts break and the avid dreamers who fall but know how to get up again.

And until I get to the last sheep I’ll know that the road hasn’t come to an end and that I’ll have the opportunity to start the count again.



Nightfall dreams

Nightfall just beside them. The moon just by their side. And darkness always waiting for them to come, to erase her loneliness. Just watching them pass by, waving to her didn’t satisfied her; she asked them to go to live with her forever. To give her the dreams she needed to feel alive again. They did. Without thinking, without looking. They lifted flight, crossed the sky, to leave the dreams they carried in the land they could see ahead. But they slipped out of their hands, approximating to her, heading to the sky. They followed them, hoping for them to come back, they were lost in the dark mantle.

They are part of the stars now. Permanently in the sky, with no way to go out since they are unable to fly back with both wings broken. Nightfall is already set again, everything dark and silent. But now, upon the darkness of this nightfall, there are new eyes watching us. An airplane flying through stories not forgotten, through those dreams that didn’t need to buy a stairway to heaven and glory because they already had it. Those that sometimes vanish at daylight but keep fluttering at night. Those that once laughed with joy, just before they held their breath and closed their eyes.


I don’t know if it can be noticed in the short story but I needed to express my feelings about the accident of the airplane in which traveled the Brazilian football team Chapecoense that fell apart yesterday night (November 28) in Antioquia, Colombia (my country). An aerial tragedy that left 71 dead and 6 injured. I’m really sorry for what happened and my deepest condolences if someone related to any of the passengers is reading this. 


Sueños de anochecer

Anochecer justo a su lado. La luna acompañándolos. Y la oscuridad siempre esperando a que lleguen, para borrar de una vez por todas su soledad. Sólo viéndolos pasar, saludándola, no la satisfacía; les pidió irse a vivir con ella para siempre. Entregarle los sueños que ella necesitaba para sentirse viva otra vez. Lo hicieron. Sin pensarlo, sin mirar. Levantaron vuelo, cruzaron el cielo, para dejar los sueños que cargaban en la tierra que podían ver adelante. Pero se les resbalaron de las manos, aproximándose a ella, rumbo al cielo. Los siguieron, con la esperanza de que regresaran, se habían perdido en el oscuro manto.

Son parte de las estrellas ahora. Permanentemente en el cielo, sin forma de salir ya que son incapaces de colar devuelta con ambas alas rotas. El anochecer llega otra vez, todo oscuro y silencioso. Pero ahora, sobre la oscuridad de este anochecer, hay ojos nuevos observándonos, Un avión volando a través de historia no olvidadas, a través de esos sueños que no necesitaban comprar una escalera al cielo y a la gloria porque ya la tenían. Aquellos que a veces se desvanecen a la luz del día pero que continúan revoloteando durante la noche. Aquellos que una vez se rieron con alegría antes de contener su respiración y cerrar sus ojos.



Catching pigeons

Dreams tend to be slippery, you want them so badly that you pursue them desperately not realizing that the more you chase them, the more they’ll slip away. Dreams are like pigeons, you try to catch them but it’s impossible to do it without scaring them. Once you think you have it, it can disappear at any moment in front of your eyes. It’s hard to believe in yourself, you see your dreams slowly going away. It’s hard to think it’s not impossible to continue…

Dreaming of stars

Every night, before going to bed, she looked out her window and up to the sky. She could admire those twinkling spots in the firmament, each time she saw them, she dreamt about reaching them. Hours had pass since her mom told her it was time to go to bed, but it was impossible to stop looking the shining stars that appeared in her dreams. She turned off her lamp and tried to sleep but in her mind, every time she closed her eyes, the twinkling spots appeared in a dark paradise.

All of a sudden, her window opened sharply. She was wide awake and could see the bright sky just above, she could feel the gentle breeze blowing on her cheeks and the fresh grass under her. The dream catcher tied to the bedhead shook violently and the bell-shaped decorations dangling off the window frame clattered in a whispery echo. She felt the stars approximating to her, she felt she could touch them if she extended her arms, she saw one last strong brightness between her hands. The sun woke up next day shining up in the sky, the light entering through the curtains bothered her and made her open her eyes.


She had the sensation she dreamt something last night but she couldn’t remember what, it was all so fuzzy…


Sometimes you struggle to catch your dreams, running through the corridors of your mind, hiding behind your memories.

They’re there.

They’re yours.

But sometimes it’s better to take your time, sit on a bench, leave some breadcrumbs on the floor and wait until they come to you.