man it's a hot one,
like seven inches from the midday sun.
i hear you whispering the words that melt everyone,
but you stay so cool.

my muñequita,
my Spanish harlem mona lisa.
you're my reason for reason,
the step in my groove.

and if you said this life ain't good enough,
i would give my world to lift you up.
i can change my life to better suit your mood,
because you're so smooth.

and it's just like the ocean, under the moon,
well it's the same as the emotion that i get from you,
you got the kind of lovin' that can be so smooth,
give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it.

i'll tell you one thing, if you would leave it'd be a crying shame.
in every breath and every word, i hear your name calling me out.
out from the barrio, you hear my rhythm on your radio.
you feel the turning of the world, so soft and slow,
turning you round, and round.

i realised life would be so much simpler if we just lived in the moment. if we could learn how to let things go, and enjoy the world from the brighter side of life. the world is beautiful, if only we knew how to see it, through carefree, weightless eyes. it's okay to laugh at ourselves, laugh at others and laugh in the face of adversity. we shouldn't take anything too seriously, especially ourselves. go out and have fun, and never let anything bog you down. spend time with friends, laugh and cry with the memories, and know that you're thankful everyday for the people who stay, even when the best have gone away. go out and experience new things, explore places you've never been. you only get one chance at this life, so why not take it? life's really too short to be miserable all the time. it's time to let go of all the sadness, trepidation and animosity. bask in the blinding morning sun, and be nothing but yourself. the world is simple and so is life, it's only a matter of whether we want to live it that way.

you don't have to worry,
cause everything's alright.
i know that you'll get me,
that you'll get me through the night.

no luck of the irish, for the irish. i know how it feels like to be robbed at a big game, on a big stage, albeit not quite as big as this. my heart goes out to them, but to expect a replay, was a little beyond me. those are the rules of the game, and once the final whistle goes, the decision is final. perhaps it could have been handled better, but it has passed and we have to move on. those are the rules of life. if only you could turn back time. there is nothing we can do to go back and change the outcome of the situation. until we can, we must find a way to accept it, and move forward. so dearly i wish i could go back in time, and so much more dearly i wish i could say i wasn't cheated. it is over now, and nothing you can say or do that will bring back the dead. it is a new day, so the best thing you can do is to make the most of it.

p.s.
thierry henry is not a cheat for goodness sake. his handball was not premeditated. he handled the ball, yes. and it was against the rules of the game, but he is not a cheat. cheated ireland of a possible place in the world cup finals? definitely. i hope he truly feels sorry for the irish, because i'm sure the rest of the world is, bar roy keane.

the running count is 0, but the true count is +24. are you ready? time to bring everything you've got to the table. time to make the best with what you have, and hope that what you have is good enough. time to show the world what miracles are made of. it's all about the numbers, but is it really?

good luck to hope, because that's all i'm banking on.

i'm staring at the next 25 days in front of me. i'm staring down the barrel of a gun. i'm staring at the fate of it all, right in the palm of my hands. i have to admit, it is more than a little unnerving to have so much power and control over your own destiny, especially when it seems like you're in control, but you're actually not. that being said, living under the illusion is definitely better than being disillusioned. the beginning is a little more than 42 hours away, but it feels so distant, just far enough for me to sit here and write about it. once we get started, i just hope it ends in an instant. i hope we don't feel a thing, between the beginning and the end, because feeling would make the process so much more painful (that's pretty much the only emotion we'd feel anyway).

i want to be calm, cool and collected, but i'm not. i'm not ready. i don't think i will ever be. i feel like i'm always going to be that little boy lost in the crowd, shaking, not knowing what to do. all of this anxiety and prep talk isn't really going to count for much when i get thrown into the fray anyway, but this is the only way i'm going in with a clear mind, because the last thing i need right now is a cerebral chew toy. i am positively petrified. i just want it to all be over. i think i'll pretty much take whatever comes right now. close my eyes and await a miracle, or the next best thing, which is me standing next to you, laughing about the grades i got, which have no implication whatsoever on the rest of our lives together. i think i'll take my chances with the miracle.

it's all about the numbers, but is it really? a catchier catchphrase escapes me.

the world is silent. waiting with anticipation, or with apprehension. we try to convince ourselves that we're ready, even when we know we're not. i know i blew every one of the better days, but there's no time to think about that now. what i have to do, which is absolutely imperative, is to go in without fear, and to make the most with what i have. regret will come, but it's too late now. the fear is taking over, but we have to wrestle back the controls, and try to restore some sense of rationality. i'm literally shaking, but it is not my body i'm worried about; it is my mind. if i could just shut myself off from the world, and care just a little less about what other people do or think, then my world would be a much happier, safer place to be. i guess that's just something we all have to deal with, just as much as we have to deal with this.

i feel a little closer to the edge, a little further from redemption, and a little stuck in between. how is everything going to be ok? how is everything going to be alright when alright is not what you deserve? trust to hope, to hope against hope, because hoping is the only thing we can do.

the clock is ticking, and we're still not winning.

ladies and gentlemen, we're into single digits. can you smell the fear, the anxiety? can you taste defeat? can you feel the world coming to an end? can you see it now? i sure hope it's just the nocebo effect. or maybe it's just your voodoo working.

i fell in love with your body and soul,
my hands feel sticky and my heads are as cold.
my sugar tastes sour and my salt taste sweet,
i wanna lay down but i just can't sleep.

round and round, it's the same old thing,
heartache, misery, trouble and pain.

slow down baby, you're going too fast,
you love this voodoo and i just can't last.
i cried last night and the night before,
20 long hours, my eyes are sore.

it's your voodoo working, and i can't get away.