miau

conforme

*i like my milk to dance before i drink it

da(E)mon

"i wont' kill myself, trying to stay in your life"

ernest

"All things truly wicked start from an innocence." *

*but nobody seems to be innocent here

got

the only certainty: the most absolute uncertainty

jlb

The useless dawn finds me in a deserted streetcorner; I have
outlived the night.
Nights are proud waves: darkblue topheavy waves laden with all
hues of deep spoil, laden with things unlikely and desirable.
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals, of things
half given away, half, withheld, of joys with a dark
hemisphere. Nights act that way, I tell you.
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds and odd
ends: some hated friends to chat with, music for dreams,
and the smoking of bitter ashes. The things my hungry
heart has no use for.
The big wave brought you.
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily and incessantly
beautiful. We talked and you have forgotten the words.
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street of my city.
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to make your name,
the lilt of your laughter: these are illustrious toys
you have left me.
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them, I find them; I tell
them to the few stray dogs and to the few stray stars
of the dawn.
Your dark rich life…
I must get at you, somehow: I put away those illustrious toys
you have left me, I want your hidden look, your real smile
—that lonely, mocking smile your cool mirror knows.

gun

*and when she lets me slip away
she turns me on
all my violence is gone

request

because it is not a good idea loving me

but i'll ask you to do it anyway

tuturuttt tuturuuuuuuut tu tut*

*lalalaaaaaaaa lala lalala lalalaaaaaaa

old

the problem of not being daddy's girl anymore*

*i'm socking the world on my own

fauvism

comme vous êtes bête, monsieur matisse!! *

*absolutely ironic

comeOn

tender is the ghost

the ghost i love the most

hiding from the sun

waiting for the night to come*

*i'm waiting for that feeling, weitin for dat filin, vueitin for dat filin chu cam, lalalala laaaaaaaaa, lala lalalaaaaa

being

once upon a time (many but many years ago) i was a cat, for a while

but nowadays i'm a mouse

or probably a nail*

*who knows?

shake

:;,,, and because the earthquake, my city moved 2,5 centimetres to the west *

*when all i wanted was to be closer to the east

jatCack

MY CAT//Kittigindoo sits/ on his haunches on the/cement drive in the/shade turned half/around listening-- he/now with pricking/ ears is looking up at / house windows, eyes/ green & dissatisfied/--when I call him/ he is in a/ trance looking strait/ ahead & his ears/ prick & he moves/his little mouth--*

* a cat with green and dissatisfied eyes... so appropriated and a little tragic

conforme

at the end, the only tag appropriated for all the posts of this blog is "nonsense"

tragedie

Xculture

*sometimes i should like to live inside a museum

confusion

Are you like me, confused
All included but you

Alone...

one of the things that i like the most about my dreams is that during them, there are no problems about languages or translations.

everybody speak their own language, but it is so easy to understand the other*

*now that i think, it is because they are probably mute at all (?)

monism4

sometimes i dont know if my fingers are mine or if they belong to him

sometimes i feel that his strings in fact are my veins

* my bass and i are monist too

cloudoubting

so many doubts

so many clouds

or maybe clouds of doubts*

*tragic tragic tragic, ha!

truth

je comprands Richard Rowan*

*from Exiles, by James Joyce

monism3

i learnt that i can be a fountain too

a fountain pen*

*maybe a blue one

true

i dont care about the place
it is the less important
i'm not kidding
i'm not joking

the place never matters*

*things will be as they have to be

gr'ng

celep2

- i like monism
- celep too
- i like celep. does he speak english?
- fluently *
- i would like to be his friend

*and she liked so much when he said "fluently", because she imagined that celep was a fountain.
** like the fountain of wisdom, you know what i mean... don't you?

record

monism2

More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes which the Night hath opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those countless hosts -- needing no aid from the light, they penetrate the depths of a loving soul -- that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable. Glory to the queen of the world, to the great prophet of the holier worlds, to the guardian of blissful love -- she sends thee to me -- thou tenderly beloved -- the gracious sun of the Night, -- now am I awake -- for now am I thine and mine -- thou hast made me know the Night -- made of me a man -- consume with spirit-fire my body, that I, turned to finer air, may mingle more closely with thee, and then our bridal night endure forever.

Novalis, "Hymns to the night"

celep

"the nature is not rich as meaning, but connotation"*

* this quote is turning in circles inside my mind

** i wanted to put a photo of celep, but i don't have any :0(

monism1

Joan Miró was a Catalan-Spanish painter, sculptor and ceramist born in Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain.

"Lay bare the soul..painting and poetry are like love..an exchange of blood, a passionate embrace,without restraint,without defence. The picture is born..of an overflow of emotions and feelings.. "

soul

just spit me out*

*probably the clearest order

Áuber

i like so much to listen a singer reading poetry *

*now i need to find Poe singing a Jeff Buckley's song

perception

i wanna know: what is he reading?

*you know the day destroys the night. the night divides the day

code

because what i like the most about blogging here are the things unsaid that are hidden under the written ones.

actually for each written sentence there are millions (no way, maybe i'm exaggerating) of little details knitted between a spider and a firefly, or between a cat and his mouse or between a frog and a fish.*

*the nature is thankful

**decode me

secret

someday i shall write a book about all of this

and

surely

i shall never even dare to publish it*

*and the world will be really thankful to me

hidden

At Eve's Grave

ADAM: Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden.

Mark Twain, Extract from Adam's diary, of "The diaries of Adam and Eve"

*because the place never matters

ArtNouveau

Antoni Gaudí was born in the province of Tarragona in southern Catalonia, SpaiN on 25 June 1852.

"Because of this, originality consists of returning to the origin."

tractatus

Ludwig Wittgenstein was born in Vienna, AustriA on 26 April 1889

"What do I know about God and the purpose of life?
I know that this world exists.
That I am placed in it like my eye in its visual field.
That something about it is problematic, which we call its meaning.
This meaning does not lie in it but outside of it.
That life is the world.
That my will penetrates the world.
That my will is good or evil.
Therefore that good and evil are somehow connected with the meaning of the world.
The meaning of life, i.e. the meaning of the world, we can call God.
And connect with this the comparison of God to a father.
To pray is to think about the meaning of life. "

sharp

that moment

when someone could say: "hey, this is the moment of my life. i was born just to live this instant, this situation; i was made only to be here precisely in this minute"

there must be a moment like that for everyone.

i hadn't lived mine............

-yet-

fUntastic

is there fun enough in life?

turn it on

and feel the breeze of joy

*how fAnny

**i have to stop playing with words

amplified

i'm plugged in today

the air is so weird

it is so full of something, probably of electricity

existencialism5

best thing to cross a night like this*

*so cure

**and so oscure

stormy

i adore the summer's storms

the heat and the wind before the rain and the people running under the water and the sky so grey and the laughs and all that

,,,,,,, and,,,,, and,,,, and

the sun again

and the hope again for the next rain, again,*

*i'msostormytoday

**anotherkindofatragicface (?)

summerain

*just like we said we always would

failure

there must be a reason

but, always my favourite characters are the looser ones*

i'll never want a hero

as morrisey says: ill never be anybody's hero now

*so tragic. why am i always so tragic? isn't it tragic itself? (?)

listen!

you'll never know how much

*

vaquita

make a wish*

make a wish

make a wish

come on! make it, before it flies away!!!

* i made mine, now is your turn

**then we may sit to wait that our wishes come true... and meanwhile we could talk about religion and other stuffs

hunch

i learnt that if i cover the notebook with a towel, i can't see what is going on at the other side
and some of the troubles disappear.
what a great idea! how didn't i discover it before?

i could go hanging around with a tablecloth in my bag, just to cover what i don't want to see
here there is an idiom: "a heart that doesn't see is a heart that doesn't feel"

and i wonder: how would it be a heart with eyes? will it have eyelashes?
and if it winks, will i feel tickling in my chest?
unfortunately my heart isn't blind, so it feels everything... but in a slow way, you know*

*so tragic, so so tragic

*why am i always thinking this kind of silly things? someday i'll grow up, i promise

howling

*i should howl to that moon the whole night through

innerroom

*"But my heart is a lonely hunter that hunts on a lonely hill"

William Sharp

j'adore Mick Kelly

cronopio

because in days like these i miss you even more than during the others*

*as if a thing like that could be possible

milan

- "...I was surprised by the war in Germany. The woman who i loved at that time, denounced me to the Gestapo. They went to see her and showed her a photography in which I was holding another woman. That hurt her and already it is known that the love acquires often the aspect of the hatred. I went to the jail with the particular sensation that it had been the love the one that had sent me there. Isn't wonderful to be in hands of the Gestapo knowing that actually is the privilege of a man that is too loved?
Jakub answered:
- If something really makes me upset about men, it is the form in which the cruelty, the lowliness and the narrowness of sights disguise themselves as lyricism. She sent you to the death and lived that as the sensitive attitude of a wounded love. And you went to the gallows for the fault of an imbecile, with the sensation of being doing a role in a tragedy written by Shakespeare for you"

The farewell, by Kundera

esential

reading unexpected words

so necessary as the air*

*or the water, in my case

hero

and i wonder: who can rescue me now? *

*i need my own spidercat

plush

;; that moment when you suddenly learn that someone broke something valuable -as a chinese cup of tea- and nothing but nothing will be the same.

and you have the same feeling that you keep when you see that someone is putting a bird inside a cage

poor poor little bird... just wanted to sing and fly away*

*anyway, i'll never be good taking photos [all i have are my drawings]

S

and i wonder: what does spiderman smell like? *

*soironic

mar

*green sea

**let's swim

mistery

+ and there was not explanation, but one day she started to draw again

and she learnt that she hadn't forgotten how to do it

while the lines fell from her pencil so easily -for a moment, just for a moment- she thought that her right hand had a life on its own, that it had a private soul... you know

she had replaced the words for the drawing

and she seemed to be happy

happy as a cat dancing with a little mouse*

*probably metaphoric... no, literal is better

mine

"I have always felt that there is something in Buenos Aires that I like.

I like it so much that I do not like that other people like it.

It is a love like that, jealous."

Jorge Luis Borges

* i share that feeling
** and i finally knew that the boy was happy

crab

i'm back

*kcab -i mean-
** and happy as hell

surprise

soon
soon
zoom

------------> so soon

heaven

*i just wanted to see the boy happy

nina

*let's dance

trust

would you be so kind to build anything for me?

At least an small bridge to be crossed by pigeons...
my trust makes me think that i could be able to get inside a tunnel made by you.

... anyway
i have to say Thanks to the Poetic Justice
because if you were a surgeon, i would have to ask you to operate on my brain just to show you my confidence in you

existencialism4

and now that i have a horse inside my chest i found out that it was better when i had an ordinary donkey*

*bring my donkey back, please

** slow hearts are cooler than faster ones

bullet

"I am pessimistic - they say -

I already know it!
There will always be apprentices in the Earth!"*

*anyway he talked about the future

medicine

- and tell me, doctor: why are these pills so wonderful?

-these are amazing pills because they make your heart run faster and you can also see things clearer.

-oh, that sounds great. shall i be happier or smarter or more beautiful?

-probably not, but you'll find that the people are most interesting just for these marvellous pills.

- i would like to take some jazz pills. do you have any?

-no, but these ones taste like cherry.

existencialism3

I can tell you taste like the sky cause you look like rain*

*a candy of rain is so sweet

**and probably a candy of clouds must be like eating an sponge of sugar

existencialism2

and i wonder: why pineapple candies are wrapped in a blue paper?

it is absolutely arbitrary as every convention

because i have never seen a blue pineapple (?)

only candies of sky would have to be wrapped in blue papers... or even in light blue or grey ones -if it is a rainy day-

if i could take any decision, my pineapple candies would be wrapped in purple paper -just because i like it-

so easy like that.

existencialism

sabato, morphine...two string bass... and "i bet you won't believe me, but i play bass too"

- he said

and in spite of the "sharks" and the "ocean" "in between" them

- she smiled

loyalty

nobody could ever understand the things that she wakes up in me

i should be able to bring her a stick if she throws it

i should give her my leg, i should move my tail just to show my happiness to her

i'm just happy to be around her

i like to be her pet*

*and i love to play bass just for her

real

stolen picture*

like a piece of soul that has been taken

like those little treasures that we find seldom and that fill our lives

but not our pockets

*my adored Robert Smith would say: i've been looking so long at these pictures of you, that i almost believe that they are real

**-and he was so right, and i understand him so much... yeah, so real

photo

a photographer that surprises a painter that has surprised his naked model before
-avigdor arikha under Henri Cartier Bresson's eye-

j'adore Henri Cartier Bresson*

*do i need to tell it?

**BTW: i like arikha pretty much too

construction

we all build an idea about the others

it is impossible not to do it

so, it is very common to construct the other exactly as we want, specially when we are absolutely fascinated with that someone

the point is that one day, we wake up and we see the cruel reality (oh so tragic!, oh, why? why?) and we realise that we are in front of another mortal, a simple pile of flesh and bones with no charm at all

as i don't want you to waste your time building a wrong -but surely interesting- idea about me, just give me the chance to disappoint you by my own*

as Pessoa would say: "I exempt you of being present in my idea of you"

*i know how to do it, believe me... just trust in me (?)

haroldo

after they came for him, it was a found a paper that he had left in his desk. It said:

"Hic meus locus pugnare est et hinc non me removebunt"*

*"this is my place of fight and nobody will move me from here"

ay!

apparently it was found a tunnel in the moon

not even the moon is safe (AY! -----> ironic and literal)

a newspaper expects to make me believe that this photo is the proof of the existence of the tunnel in the moon*

*but in fact, this pic seems more to me the surface of the cappuccino that i use to drink, than a tunnel in a satellite

-------->

: now she is focused in the little details
as this little spider*

*the spider has glasses

**glasses for classes

whitman

A NOISELESS, PATIENT SPIDER



NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,--seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

*so perfect, walt

shopping

* and i wonder: where could i buy one of this gatoluna?