Thursday, March 30, 2006

The thorn in your eyes

Do not close your eyes,
do not turn your head.
This child is your child, my child
and we have failed in making
a better world for him.
The shame is not aids or wars or money,
We are the shame,
and until we do not recognize how far into the dark holes of our lonely hearts we have gone, the eyes of this child, of all children, will be set upon us, reminding us that we are not worthy of them.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

But death shall have no dominion

I grieve for thee my friend, you who are next door, you whom I never see, you who will never open your eyes again. And I grieve for me.

Top five of the week

like a friend-Pulp
red red red-Fiona Apple
babe you turn me on-Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
tear in your hand-Tori Amos
times of trouble-Temple of the Dog

Tribute to brit pop

And the day was full with anger
and all the scars in my body started to itch
my lips were dry and numb.
Blood was under my nails,
a sour taste in my mouth
and all the toughts in my mind had gone wrong.
From my hidden place I see the world,
how far and dark it is for me.
And in the middle of my own solitude
I wonder when there will be another velvet morning for me?

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Bloqueo de escritor

Rayos y cáspitas, pardiez y recontrapardiez, en mis muertos más frescos y en la hostia, en la puta que lo parió, exclamo fatalidad con el sudor perlando mi frente y llevo mi fina mano enguantada hacia la daga oculta en mi pecho, desgarro la batista que cubre mi piel, me aferro al arma y me presto a batirme en duelo con este adversario pérfido y temido.
Y esta es sólo la línea argumental. Falta el guión completo. o sea.

By the way

Athos, Porthos, Aramis, d´Artagnan...
The three musketeers...
sometimes is good to go back to the clasics


Well darling, it seems like you didn´t know me.
Yes, i can be a bitch.
Hello big news.
But I am not a baby or a spoiled brat
And frankly my dear,
you are the bitch.

Friday, March 24, 2006

The death of D´Artagnan

After all these years.
As if she didn´t know her.
Her code, her flag, the things for what she lived for. Friendship. One for all and all for one.
And she broke the code.
She left her friend alone. She turned her back and left her when all she needed was five minutes of a place where she could feel warm, to know she had come back home. To reach out and find a hand that wouldn´t let her go. But when she turned around she had already gone. She was alone in her room, by herself.
And from that moment on nothing was going to be the same.

Last rites

all the world just stopped now so you say you don´t want to stay together anymore let me take a deep breath babe if you need me me and neil`ll be hangin´ out with the dream king Neil says hi by the way I don´t believe you are leaving cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream I think it´s that girl and I think there´s pieces of me you´ve never seen maybe she´s just pieces of me you´ve never seen well all the world is all i am the black of the blackest ocean and that tear in your hand all the world is danglin´...danglin´...danglin´ for me darlin´you don´t know the power that you have with that tear in your hand maybe I ain´t used to maybes smashing in a cold room cutting my hands up every time i touch you maybe maybe it´s time to wave goodbye now time to wave goodbye now

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Between life and death

And death shall have no dominion
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
Dylan Thomas

Since she was a small girl she grew up surrounded by death, the thin line between existence and beyond being broken in front of her eyes too often.
today a man died.
And the world feels like a smaller place.
She is running as fast as she can, into her fears and pain, from them, all being one.
He taught her about feelings, how to perform on stage, about teather, what it ment to translate words into images.
And now he is dead
and the clock has stopped
and when it resumes its march
there will be a bigger empty in the place where we all keep record of ourselves.
Because she admired him and had the honour of him sharing some of his time with her.
But that doesn´t really matter.