Friday, September 04, 2009
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
[lua]
And I’m not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did
It’s not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is
What’s so simple in the moonlight, now is so complicated
What’s so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight
perro del mar:
y siempre volvemos a empezar,
porque eso de andar y andar
a correa suelta y mar abierto
empieza a cansarme...
isn't this
just a fucking waste of time?
no.
ni uno.
ni un gramo de pena.
no eran suficientemente indies
después de un siglo o dos.
revertir/arrepentir/ich bin.
rien de rien.
la boca bien cerrada,
y aquí me voy a dejar caer.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
[sony]
Equivalente de Zeus en la mitología digital.
Vencedor de Hitachi, Mitsubishi, Toshiba y Canon, contrajo nupcias con Aiwa, declaró la guerra a Samsung y envió a su primogénito, el valeroso Betamax, a conquistar al mundo.
Abandonado por su padre, Betamax se refugió unos años en Latinoamérica y murió a manos de su media hermana, la perversa Handycam.
[i'm wide awake, it's morning]
If you walk away, I’ll walk away
First tell me which road you will take
I don’t want to risk our paths crossing some day
So you walk that way, I’ll walk this way
And the future hangs over our heads
And it moves with each current event
Until it falls all around like a cold steady rain
Just stay in when it’s looking this way
And the moon’s laying low in the sky
Forcing everything metal to shine
And the sidewalk holds diamonds like the jewelry store case
They argue walk this way, no, walk this way
And Laura’s asleep in my bed
As I’m leaving she wakes up and says
“I dreamed you were carried away on the crest of a wave Baby don’t go away, come here”
And there’s kids playing guns in the street
And ones pointing his tree branch at me
So I put my hands up I say “enough is enough,
If you walk away, I’ll walk away”
And he shot me dead
I found a liquid cure
From my landlocked blues
It’ll pass away like a slow parade
It’s leaving but I don’t know how soon
And the world’s got me dizzy again
You think after 22 years I’d be used to the spin
And it only feels worse when I stay in one place
So I’m always pacing around or walking away
I keep drinking the ink from my pen
And I’m balancing history books up on my head
But it all boils down to one quotable phrase
If you love something, give it away
A good woman will pick you apart
A box full of suggestions for your possible heart
But you may be offended and you may be afraid
But don’t walk away, don’t walk away
We made love on the living room floor
With the noise in the background of a televised war
And in the deafening pleasure I thought I heard someone say
“If we walk away, they’ll walk away”
But greed is a bottomless pit
And our freedom’s a joke
We’re just taking a piss
And the whole world must watch the sad comic display
If you’re still free start running away
Cause we’re coming for you!
I’ve grown tired of holding this pose
I feel more like a stranger each time I come home
So I’m making a deal with the devils of fame
Saying “let me walk away, please”
You’ll be free child once you have died
From the shackles of language and measurable time
And then we can trade places, play musical graves
Till then walk away, walk away
So I’m up at dawn
Putting on my shoes
I just want to make a clean escape
I’m leaving but I don’t know where to
I know I’m leaving but I don’t know where to
First tell me which road you will take
I don’t want to risk our paths crossing some day
So you walk that way, I’ll walk this way
And the future hangs over our heads
And it moves with each current event
Until it falls all around like a cold steady rain
Just stay in when it’s looking this way
And the moon’s laying low in the sky
Forcing everything metal to shine
And the sidewalk holds diamonds like the jewelry store case
They argue walk this way, no, walk this way
And Laura’s asleep in my bed
As I’m leaving she wakes up and says
“I dreamed you were carried away on the crest of a wave Baby don’t go away, come here”
And there’s kids playing guns in the street
And ones pointing his tree branch at me
So I put my hands up I say “enough is enough,
If you walk away, I’ll walk away”
And he shot me dead
I found a liquid cure
From my landlocked blues
It’ll pass away like a slow parade
It’s leaving but I don’t know how soon
And the world’s got me dizzy again
You think after 22 years I’d be used to the spin
And it only feels worse when I stay in one place
So I’m always pacing around or walking away
I keep drinking the ink from my pen
And I’m balancing history books up on my head
But it all boils down to one quotable phrase
If you love something, give it away
A good woman will pick you apart
A box full of suggestions for your possible heart
But you may be offended and you may be afraid
But don’t walk away, don’t walk away
We made love on the living room floor
With the noise in the background of a televised war
And in the deafening pleasure I thought I heard someone say
“If we walk away, they’ll walk away”
But greed is a bottomless pit
And our freedom’s a joke
We’re just taking a piss
And the whole world must watch the sad comic display
If you’re still free start running away
Cause we’re coming for you!
I’ve grown tired of holding this pose
I feel more like a stranger each time I come home
So I’m making a deal with the devils of fame
Saying “let me walk away, please”
You’ll be free child once you have died
From the shackles of language and measurable time
And then we can trade places, play musical graves
Till then walk away, walk away
So I’m up at dawn
Putting on my shoes
I just want to make a clean escape
I’m leaving but I don’t know where to
I know I’m leaving but I don’t know where to
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
[marco]
contemPOPráneo.
´cause all you need is a pretty song.
remember the time you drove all night just to meet me in the morning and I thought it was strange.
id cards, visita, paloma, de-efe.
[hoy es de cada uno lo que fue de los dos]
agosto
06
...this is the first day of my life, swear i was born right in the doorway
y yo descubrí el área nunca antes visitada del lado obscuro de tu almohada, y yo pasé mi lengua por el borde de tu cara
06...06
[i don't love you to death but i'd die if you left]
06...gmail...07
don't say you'll leave me cuz I know you won't leave you know it took years for you to stay
***
[I don't know where I am
I don't know where I've been
But I know where I want to go
So I thought I'd let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realized that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home]
´cause all you need is a pretty song.
remember the time you drove all night just to meet me in the morning and I thought it was strange.
id cards, visita, paloma, de-efe.
[hoy es de cada uno lo que fue de los dos]
agosto
06
...this is the first day of my life, swear i was born right in the doorway
y yo descubrí el área nunca antes visitada del lado obscuro de tu almohada, y yo pasé mi lengua por el borde de tu cara
06...06
[i don't love you to death but i'd die if you left]
06...gmail...07
don't say you'll leave me cuz I know you won't leave you know it took years for you to stay
***
[I don't know where I am
I don't know where I've been
But I know where I want to go
So I thought I'd let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realized that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home]
[ag]
The sky ship has made it's last stop
Boarded up in slow motion
Enjoying every last moment
To the instant
Time is limitless
And soon I fall
Back through the chair
Through the earth
Into space
Into a molecule
Into the end
Upon forever
Experience is all I want
So I pack up my bags
And file out
At some space possible
I'm convinced this is real
I regret to bid farewell
To these last moments
Of imperfect perfection
Enjoying every last moment
The sky ship has made it's last stop
Friday, April 14, 2006
[no sé por qué tengo un blog]
no lo sé.
fuera de una persona... nadie lo lee.
no pretendo que así sea tampoco.
supongo que es porque de vez en cuando vengo a darle el uso a lo que anteriormente eran servilletas, tickets de compra, hojas recicladas, etc. pero me doy cuenta que muy pocas veces he escrito aquí fuera de mi casa.
lo he intentado en la escuela pero... me caga que me estén viendo mientras escribo. total falta de privacidad... haha, no es irónico que a final de cuentas esto queda en línea y a la vista de cualquiera? ... es como el space que tenía en post poems.com, y que si ponías mi nombre en google era lo segundo que aparecía... por fortuna recordé la contraseña de dicha cuenta y borré todo... me era frustrante que en el top 5 de mi existencia en los buscadores tuviera poemas ñoños de cuando tenía como 15 años...
chales, tal vez debería regresar a los métodos de la vieja escuela.
[y vivieron felices para siempre]
here it is... creo que el problema de muchas de las cosas que me abruman se remonta a:
1. que en la infancia estuve expuesta a cuentos de hadas versión libro y VHS desde disney hasta las del colectivo de la imaginación de mi madre,
2. que en la adolescencia, de igual manera, me envolví en un montón de teen movies, mtv, y los backstreet boys.
y claro, uno en plena pubertad ve never been kissed, o 10 things i hate about you y piensa (como toda adolescente ingenua) que un día llegará un príncipe tipo boy band y que a pesar de los problemas, el susodicho hará mil cosas para re-conquistar cuantas veces sea necesario tu amor después de una tortuosa escena de sufrimiento por haber perdido a la chica, en donde hay desde cartas y flores en los casilleros muy al estilo gringo, el clásico chico popular que te invita a la prom-nite, el que te sorprende cantando -can´t take my eyes off you- con una banda al estilo musical de broadway... en fin...
piensas en los finales felices, en que sales de la mediocridad al encontrar el amor de tu vida, en que el maquillaje lo puede todo, y que el dinero sí compra la felicidad...
que mierda.
después llega la etapa del desencanto. a mi me entró en el tercer año de secundaria por el libro de -la tumba- de josé agustín... poesía feminista en la preparatoria... lectura, escritura... que decir... pero aún y en la segunda década de esta vida, uno no puedo evitar que en el subconsciente se tenga esa idea del -chico ideal-, de aquel que hará hasta lo imposible por estar contigo, y demás.
good morning, my dear. me cae que las cosas no son así... millones de adolescentes que están all broken-hearted no pueden estar equivocados...