Scared

There was a fragment of life, in the middle of the time, scrunched as those fantastic plastic machines who are crippling our delicate moments of "freedom", of choice.
One after another, go home! But you don't have, indigents! The destitute.
tension over my shoulders trying to keep calm and warm, but I can't, they try to destroy me. But I'll be better tonight. Better than ever.
Disrespect.
Torture.
Silence.
Death.
Change.
New birth.
Bliss.
Life again.
Blow away!

Sol

Canciones alegres que derrumben a demonios malhumorados e hilarantes. Fugaz introspección de la bruja de otoño a lomos de un joven potrillo que no puede con su peso. Ella, ha comido demasiado y pesa más de una tonelada.
Los otros, los que juegan a intentar ser felices, son en realidad unas personas gratas, pero cuya amistad no desea ni el Pichi.
De modo que esas rosas rojas que perfuman los alrededores de la casa rosa son en realidad de una ignorancia gratuita a la par que desaliñada.
Silencio, respeto a los que son como son.
Se acabó mi intento de estudiar a las especies en extinción.
Mejor me aconseja, señor de arena de playa, una receta para alimentar a Pichi.

Sí, por favor, señor de arena de playa, tráiganos sus dulces sueños.

Behave yourself, baby

Mind, colapse, strange people, just a door to go in, so crowded, just a multitudinous congregation. Fanaticism, poignancy, pathos, fear. Tears, shut up. Stand up, kiss my ass, kick my plans.
When I was just a little baby, I understood, how savage is the world outside my bedroom. I never dared, I rarely tared. Hungry of love, pretending to be good.
Good for you is not good for mine.
Dedicated followers of fashion.

Papián

Tómate una tila, una manzanilla, una infusión de menta poleo. Tómatelo con calma, con paz y sin prisas por... llamar al infierno.
No sé, no sé. Me gusta lo dulce, pero resulta que suele llegar predecido de lo salado. De mi chico, la fidelidad, la dualidad, la intencionalidad.
Mi mente se quiebra como un hielo débil ante el primer rayo caliente de sol.
Quise retormarlo y me encontré de bruces ante un falso espejo, una especie de espectro.
Y mis dedos, sí, escriben rápido, a la vera de la muerte, al lado del precipicio de sabor a sal de mar. Unos buscan paz, ¿qué buscabas tú? ¿Un amor que no podías entender ni aceptar?

Av og til

For ung for å bli døde, for å føle seg knust, brukt, trist.
- Hva skal jeg gjøre når jeg bli voksne?
- Og du? - spurte jeg med ro i hjertet mitt - Vil du være så kjedelig og prentensiøs for resten av livet ditt?
- _: dårlig følelse skjer i scenen -
- Jeg beklager.
- Bedre.
- Hvorfor det?
- Kom hit og vær som jeg! Prøv det! Minst en gang.

<-stakkars rik-=!> tenkt hodet mitt mens en flodhest sang "I jungelen" på youtube.

Long time ago

Silence was our religion, kisses and blows, strikes and glows.
I didn't know you so well before you died, same as the man from Seattle who seated down into a can pretending to be faded away. Free from the wild world, cute bunny of yours.
Inventing diseases, creating excuses, bored of boring life.
Beauty vanishes, talent is harder to blur. Dreams of reality, bits of boots tracing stairs down the road, on the ground.
Sun is gone today, but "today" has no end. Indeed, there's no night at this time of year. Sensations flowing through infected bodies, putrid minds and joyful hearts.
Becoming more that you are, sleeping under golden apples trees, raspberries killed at dawn. Dawm!
Sakura, straberries, deliveries. Shipping notes. Jumping, flashing.

Mad world

Pressure, under pressure, over pressured, multipressure, fast pressure, stress.
Play, real word, true nature, feel, deep, mood.
Under balance, prounbalanced, tricks and stripes, motorcycles and guitars, lipstick and traces, under races, hidden under bows, laws, wars, bullshit.
Politicians, actors and musicians.
Celebrations under the snow. Make a wish, high above, upon a delayed history.
Prologue to myself, to my fear, my strengh, my fishes and twisters.
Sail! Come into vogue. Revoke! Wake up!