cuando me pregunto si la violencia existe
no pienso en nada en particular
y a veces
solo en medusas que se agitan en un acuario subterraneo
cuando el metro y sus cantautores
me taladran el pecho
soy medio
submarino
cuando me pregunto si la notoriedad
delata
a todas las fricciones por turnos
o la tornamesa quieta
cambia
mi entendimiento de las agujas

es hasta entonces
que la risa pide
-que se ponga de pie vuestra gran broma-

Out at the train tracks I dream of escape
But a song comes onto my iPod
And I realize it's getting late

I can't take the staring and the sympathy
And I don't like the questions,
"How do you feel?"
"How's it going in school?"
"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Way out, way out of here
Fade out,
Fade out, vanish

I'll try to forget you
And I know that I will
In a thousand years
Or maybe a week

I'll burn all your pictures
Cut out your face

The shutters are down and the curtains are closed
And I've covered my tracks
Disposed of the car

And I'll try to forget even your name
And the way that you look when you're sleeping,
And dreaming of this

Way out, way out of here
Fade out,
Fade out, vanish

Way Out Of Here - Porcupine Tree

30

memorabilia for sick spirits

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd

[Mary reads to Dr. Mierzwiak out of "Bartlett's Familiar Quotations"; the lines are from Alexander Pope's poem "Eloisa to Abelard"]

the delicious pace of loneliness
catwalks the tones of every weather

the shimmering, the rumours
the crimes of card-dealing;

"tu muerto esta cerca"
on the front door
the heat craving for music

but one-more-night without.

Crónica incompleta (e imprecisa) de tragedias poco conocidas que no pasan todos los dias

Algún día de Abril 2008 - Pancho muere. Se sospecha principalmente de Rosalía. La investigación permanece abierta hasta nuestros dias...los todos pasan no que conocidas poco tragedias (imprecisa e) incompleta crónica.

“To have peace with this peculiar life; to accept what we do not understand; to wait calmly for what awaits us, you have to be wiser than I am”
M.C. Escher

Deica Logo!

Death is an opportunity for creation

abril 2008 (tres)

destazo mi vida en hubieras
practico el terror a los felinos
y siempre hay una especie de sabor a durazno en el metro.

Music is my game

¡Forastero! Hay sueños inescrutables y de lenguaje oscuro y no se cumple cuanto anuncian a los hombres. Hay dos puertas para los leves sueños: una, construida de cuerno; y otra, de marfil. Los que vienen por el bruñido marfil nos engañan, trayendonos palabras sin efecto; y los que salen por el pulimentado cuerno anuncian, al mortal que los ve, cosas que realmente han de verificarse.

Odisea, XIX
Libro de Sueños - J.L. Borges
Pensamiento de cumbre

this is the resulting garbage of february
the anger pumps as hard as it can
no objective
just neumatic fiber rechinando sobre wet pavement
long talks with dull insomnia
and all my memories are here to watch
and build an opinion
this is the result of a too long month
of a blank month
and the month in which the nightmares grew quicker
I sometimes live in Cordoba
I sometimes have a face that waits for me
in the past and in the future at the some time