demerol

"last night I told a stranger all about you

they smiled patiently with disbelief"

*demerol is the name of a drug -an alternative for a band's name-. Is this tragic enough? I don't know, but surely it is.

jail

and now i wonder: What am I going to do with all this freedom in front of me?

*freedom must be exactly like some horses running wild on the beach

humanity

One day, Gregor Samsa wakes up and discovers that he has turned into something monstrous, into something without name - that usually is represented as a roach or a beetle-.
But evidently he is not anything of it, he is another thing.

In the first front page that was going to take the book and that the publisher sent Kafka -in order that he was approving it- it had been drawn one of these insects. Kafka rejected it immediately, because that one into what Gregor Samsa had turned into was slightly unrepresentable.

The publisher decided just to leave the drawing of an open door.

*in honour to the writer, I shall not put here any drawing about those insects to represent Gregor anymore.

home

One day, Hiroshi took a plane from Japan to Mexico.

His idea was to visit some cities in Mexico and after a while -probably no more than three months- he would come back to his house.

But, as soon as he arrived at the airport, he knew that the airport was the place where he wanted to live.

He had found his place in the world. He had finally found his home.

*a polite mexican woman invited him to live in her house. Hiroshi accepted, but after some weeks he returned to the airport. He said that the house was nice, but he needed more freedom.

dictionary

What does it mean: "Don't worry, we'll get the money somehow"?
(does it mean that they are going to rob a bank or that they are going to win the lottery for getting the money?)
What does it mean: "I'll always be with you somehow" ?

(does it mean that he is going to walk after her as a ghost or that he'll be close to her pretending to be neighbors?)

What does it mean: "This boy you love somehow"?

(does it mean that she loves him at the same way that she loves a dog or that she loves the cherries?)

what the hell does "somehow" mean?

I guess that i don't like this word anymore.

*I won't use the word "somehow" again. I have to find a way to replace it, somehow.

?

It is like being an stranger in a town.

Alone, by your own.

So lost, without understanding any word or any advertising.

when you are strange faces come out in the rain...

... and talking about rain: it was falling hail from the sky today

Probably God was using the earth like a ping pong table for playing with the devil.

*who could it be the winner?. always tragic, i know.

doubt

the moon that has been the moon since the beginning of the times

that all that she knows is how to be a moon -completely round and pale and so solid and persistent-.

don't you consider that maybe she can be tired of being the moon?

Ok, I accept it, you can say to me that she is not the same at every night because sometimes she has another appearance, and she becomes a turkish moon or she gets invisible.

but you know that in fact, that is only a trick played by the light of the sun -as a fake make up or something like that-

and probably, just for seconds she would rather be a bull or a chair, or the sun, or a girl, or a cat or anything but not the moon.

*poor moon, maybe she would like to spend the mornings rolling from a mountain to the plain.

welcome

It is like when you have a new home. You can make it on your own. You choose what things to put in it.

You hang some pictures, but maybe you don't like them enough, so you decide to change them.
You pick up what music to listen, the kind of light that you prefer.

What things you'll show, and the most important of all: what things you will hide.

Everything depends on you when the room is empty.

*without even knowing, you are painting everything with the sounds of your soul.

**this weird nighty world was waiting for you

construction

It was said that it was absolutely impossible to construct something just with sand...

*in spite of it, someone constructed a desert without even saying a word.

conquest

"The aborigens were defeated also by the amazement. The emperor Moctezuma received, in his palace, the first news: a big hill was moving over the sea. Other messengers came later:... " The foreigners were bringing "deer" that were supporting them so highly as the roofs. Throughout their bodies were wrapped, only their faces appear. They are white as if they were of lime. They have the yellow hair, though some of them have it black."

"The opened veins of Latin America", Eduardo Galeano

opinion

she used to think that creativity was the art of finding the hidden connections between things that had no connection.
For instance, to establish the secret relation between a Tsunami and the first pair of shoes that was made in Milan, in the XIII century.

*definitely, happiness was at her feet

sight

There is something in his face that frightens me.
Something about him reminds me to a vampire.
But the word vampire does not includes him totally.

There is a part of him that is escaping from me constantly (like the sand between the fingers)
As if he were a fallen and purple angel, he observes me from the dark beyond.

****there is no way to run away from his sight****

more

Ah! You want a better light than the light

of the sun!

You want greener meadows than these!

You want more beautiful flowers than these

I see !

I like this Sun, these meadows, these flowers,

But, if perhaps I do not like them,

What I want is a sun more sun than the Sun,

What I want are meadows more meadows than these meadows,

What I want are flowers more flowers than these flowers:

Everything more ideal than it is, in the same way and of the same way!

Alberto Caeiro*

*alberto caeiro was one of the multiple personalities that lived inside the portuguese writer Fernando Pessoa

cinderella

And while she was trying her new foot gear -that came from a farther and mysterious city- she felt like the basStard princess of a fairy tale in the exactly moment when the frog was going to see if the crystal shoe was suitable.

*she couldn't stop wondering how he -the froggy prince- had done to calculate the size of her foot.

geography

In the middle age, the cartographers drew maps very different than the ones we know nowadays. The objective of those maps wasn't to find the right location of a country or a sea, there were another patterns to draw them. For instance, the religion. For catholics, Jerusalem seemed to be the centre of the world, so this holy place was drawn in the middle of the map.

Things changed during the modern times. The cartography became a science and -apparently- the maps started to show the world how it really is (this is a lie).

*she definitely adores the way he draws, specially maps. Because he always puts his sense of humour in everything he does and makes her laugh a lot. But she would like to tell him that Argentina is not beside China...

happy

It couldn't be of another way. It had to be a rainy day today.

And it was terrible cold but I was walking under the rain because I felt happy.

And I was singing "Leaving New York", in the car, while I was going to work.

And I was writing single words over the glasses, whit the teardrops.*

*you were raining over me the whole day

why

tell me right now. don't think to answer. just tell me why have you done this to me? why? why are you the way you are? are you real? are you sure that you are real? because you don't seem real to me. these getiks are the sweetest things i have seen ever. i dont deserve anything of everything that you have done (sent) to me. you are too much

election

If I continue voting for the ecologist party who takes Marcuse as a philosophical base, I am never going to be represented in the congress.

this is so sad, so sad.*

*always so tragic.

**grow up, Valeria... you are still green (?)

honduras

America is bleeding once again.

There is a hurt that crosses the whole continent.

achtung

It is supposed that I must be reading Foucault right now.

But since yesterday afternoon, this strange paper has stolen all my concentration.

* I need that it be monday today (weird sensation)

** I hope that tomorrow don't get closed everything for the influenza.

north

When you can't modify the reality, you have to accept it exactly how it is.

Probably, in the same way that you accept that it is summer at the other side of the world...

*anyway, I just can't stop to believe in r(evolutions).

expectation

It is just a second what you need to change your mood completely -for better or for worse-

What is the size of the waiting? What is the weight of it?

When something out of plans happens to you, you start to think that magic happens (like a wind coming from the east).

It's all that i can say. All I have to do is wait.

Meanwhile, I just can't get out this smile from my face.*

*so metaphoric as usual.

non-stop

"They will be able to cut all the flowers, but they will not stop the spring"

Ernesto Guevara*

*It is said that this sentence belongs to Pablo Neruda. Anyway, EG had one of his books when he was in Bolivia.

japanese

an small bridge is like a Japanese bridge. It's the kind of bridge that you have to cross slowly.

you can stop at the middle of it for seeing the orange fishes that swim in the water below.

and when you finally get at the other side you can sit on the grass for having tea.*

(and you can pray a little too, if you want, of course)

* small Japaneses bridges confuse with you. and everything is a big big zen thought.

painter

A writer seen by the eyes of another writer.

A writer painted by another one.

Someone so obsessed with the eyes and the blindness.

Probably in another time and space, Kafka will be able to draw Sabato.

*when Sabato stopped writing he came back to bis first art: the painting (as Juan Pablo C., in the tunnel)

engineer

and nowadays i wonder: are you finally able to build a bridge?

tunnel

Since yesterday he is 98*

*long living sometimes can be a curse.

tango

miss you today -kinda your day-*

*after all this time

marketing

Where is the line that divides love from an obsession?

All I know is that Obsession is the name of my perfume.

And love... Well, love must be underground.*

*always so but so clear with the concepts.

seas

"I have crossed oceans of time just to find you"

hope

Just a kid to know about love.

Not kid enough to know about the war and the death that are around him.

stars

mi noche en el barrio de Belgrano.

*the winter has come

Listen!

Listen, if stars are lit
it means – there is someone who needs it.
It means – someone wants them to be,
that someone deems those specks of spit
magnificent.
And overwrought, in the swirls of afternoon dust,
he bursts in on God,
afraid he might be already late.
In tears,
he kisses God's sinewy hand
and begs him to guarantee
that there will definitely be a star.
He swears
he won't be able to stand that starless ordeal.
Later,
He wanders around, worried,
but outwardly calm.
And to everyone else, he says:
'Now,
it's all right.
You are no longer afraid,
are you?'
Listen, if stars are lit,
it means – there is someone who needs it.
It means it is essential
that every evening
at least one star should ascend
over the crest of the building.

VM

*One of the stars has a known face.

letters

The writer Jean Paul used to say that the books are longer letters written to the friends.

When one of my favourite writers mentions another one I adore, I feel like if the first one is sending a sign to me. As if he were saying: "Hey, I have read him too, and I like him as you do. He's one of us".

Since that moment, I feel like we can share a friendship of three.

*Thanks Julio for loving Bataille as much as I do.

phantom

How will convince the murdered to his assassin that the fist one is not going to appear to him?

Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano

wordless

To write so many things. To use words like if they were a knife, just to hurt.

Just to prove that it is easy to be dangerous.

It would be so easy, but it would be so pathetic too.

It would only generate regret.

us

He... being played by me *

*amor del bueno
**serious girl playing
***happy bass throwing sounds to the night

house

This is my tree. I use to read under this tree when it is summer or spring.

My tree always has a lot of birds in it, and sometimes has orange butterflies, too

I should have to build a house between its leaves to live. And I could invite my friends for having a tea party during the afternoons.

Maybe I could become a singing bird.

nature

To think that everything is right:

It's s like believe that there is a dead wolf at the side of the road and get closer to it just to touch it with a stick to see if it is still breathing. So you push it at the first time, at the second time and at the third time that you do it, the animal shows you the teeth... and you discover that it is too late to run.

*It would be so naif to think that things can change. A wild animal will never be domesticated.

sanctuary

*lately this blog has become a holy place

laugh

O ñpbr uói, dprrw, nit hiyr id yje ytiej*

*express the deepest feelings is so easy like putting the fingers at the wrong position on the keyboard and write them.

eternity

Less poetic than a candle, but probably more effective.

The meaning and the intention are always the same.*

*too late for writing.

*too tired for having a good idea.

catfish

The professor came and said: "Here you have this poem by Richard Brautigan. Analyse this, this is your test"

*When I look a picture of R.B, I always remember my bass professor's father. They are really look alike.

white

Someone threw it in the street.

I picked it up and brought it here

*it is not for me.

futurism

" I want to be understood by my country, but if I am not understood, what is it going to do with it, I will pass for the natal land as the oblique rain passes ".

V. Maiakovski

culture

Everything was dark. Very dark.

But in a corner of the garden there was a tiny light (almost imperceptible).

It was a firefly caught between the web knitted by a spider.

Without even thinking, she broke the web to let the firefly free. The little insect escaped.

After a few minutes, the spider came and saw that had lost its victim and that its web had been destroyed.

The insect began to knit again.

In the dark, she felt happy but a little guilty. She felt that the spider, with its little eyes, was looking at her with hate.

blur

Probably a dream is a just a blur memory of something that really took place in other life.

If we had the clear conscience that the situation that we see in our dreams really happened, we would become crazy. It would be impossible to accept that one time we lived all that pain or that joy and we lost it.

But with a dream we'll never find out the hidden truth... anyway, we can suspect it -as I do-.

*I had a weird dream, but it can't be true.

ill

*I didn´t even like this band

pleasure

I alvueiz vuonted to do diz: To write hin diz way, I mean.*

*It's a stupid thing, but it makes me laugh a lot. I'm very silly nowadays, I know

desire

Pills for dreaming and music for sleeping*

*i want to listen a bass session

speed

Living so fast.

Leaving so fast.

And at the other side of the wall, everything is so quiet, in calm.

*one day I'll stop running. That day I will be probably dead.

now

(though it is dark here)
I'm a wild light blinding bright
burning off alone

*it's times like these you learn to live again

sign

It is more than waiting that something happens.
It is like expecting.

It is essential, absolutely necessary. It keeps your whole attention. You need a sign.

A sign from the other side.

Something that makes you see that you are not waiting in vain.

Because you'll finally have that word, that clue that you need to go on.

It is like when you wait to see the first leaf in every tree, at the beginning of the spring.

Charme

"For the Old World, even until the eve of the national modern state, the power to read meant in fact something as the belonging to an elite that smelt like mystery; the grammatical knowledge was considered to be as the nucleus of the magic: in effect, already in the medieval English, from the word grammar comes the glamour, to those who can read and write, some impossibles will turn out to be easy. "

Peter Sloterdijk

*sometimes magic happens and a terrible day becomes a good one.

* a horse becomes a mouse.

* a fancy coach becomes a pumpkin (a smashing one).

* a prince becomes a frog.

flies

por si las moscas...

home

It is like:

Your first thought when you wake up and the last one before you go to sleep.

That words that you need to read or you will not be able to breathe.

That part that you know that will always be good for you, instead of the Universe is collapsing.

Your place in the world (and it is not about land)

jungle

For everybody the light. For everybody everything .

For us the pain and the distress

for us the happy rebelliousness,

for us the denied future

for us the rebellious dignity.

For us nothing

frozen

There is a little black spot in the sun today

*It is really cold here, today
** the sun must be freezing

siesta

During the earliest hours of the afternoon,

two kids run away from their house and go to the forest for climbing trees.

Two lovers meet in the river for swimming naked for the first time (probably for their last time too).

Meanwhile all the others are sleeping and they dream that a boy and girl, under the trees and beside the river, are playing in the nets of love.

east

The night is coming from the east.

I can smell it from here.

It is over the Atlantic Ocean right now.

It is like a vampire crossing the sea in his ship.

In a little while the night -or maybe the vampire (why not?)- will cover all my sky, with a dark blanket.

persistence

I want to be so light as a flying piano and so heavy as the music inside someone's head

run

If I die you'll forget me very soon. You'll start a new relationship pretty soon, with that nice guy with green eyes*

*I would like to write something, but I won't. I'm a tragic danger today (so tragic, so tragic as usual)

phantasmagoric

I shall rule you with a fear*

* That line is perfect¨

**I think that I can understand baudelaire's feeling

casablanca

If you don't take that plane, you'll regret it. Not today, not tomorrow, but you'll regret it...*

*the best part about taking phrases of the films it is that you can use them in situations absolutely different than the scenes.

lights*

Cause a heart that hurts

is a heart that works

*bright.
** good new song. It sounds great.

bridges

I draw bridges for you to find me:
A bridge of clothes, with my water-colors...
A suspension bridge, with brilliant chalk...
Bridges of wood, with pencil of wax...
Lifting bridges, silver, coppery...
Unbreakable Bridges, of stone, invisible...
And You ... who could believe it! You do not see them even!
I do hundred, ten, one .. you do not cross anyone!
But ... as I love you ... I draw and wait.
Beautiful, beautiful bridges for you to find me! *

*I read this poem for the first time when I was seven years old. It is from a book named: "The book of the children in love". It impressed me a lot when I was a little girl. Since that day, I didn't stop drawing bridges.

touch

But oh these hours
I lost my place
I'm never lost
There's just one way

cure

"Whatever words I say

I will always."

Some nights when I come back home I have to take a walk for the cementery (how tragic!). It is not my choice, it is just that the bus takes that road. In one of the outside walls of the cementery it is written this:

"Love song, it is the only thing that makes me feel good "

*When I look that, I smile just to think how ironic and poetic is that a sentence like that it is written in that place. Maybe the dead can listen that song and remember that one day they were alive and in love.

reason

"When West, a long time ago, discovered the love, gave it enough price to turn acceptable the death; today, the sex claims this equivalence, the most raised of all. "

Michel Foucault

*there is a always a reason to die for.

** Love or sex. And the winner is......................... a butterfly