it´s time to die

He was looking for a secret place to hide away his shame.
His boredom
his lost battles
his dreams
his loneliness
his lack of personality
his being a looser a winner his ugliness his being handsome
his bret easton ellis and his jane austen
his being on top
getting fucked in the ass
his bright mornings
his last sunset

he was a dark star starting to fade away
and who would be soon gone away for good.
And nobody knew his name.
He has stop eating.
That is only the beggning. Soon his body will start hurting.
Chest
Stomach
Head
Legs
Arms
then he will know he is ready,
and the night will close his eyes.

Top five of the week

common people- Pulp

where are you know when i need you- The Waterboys

acrobat-U2

it can´t rain all the time- Jane Siberry

hurt- nine inch nails

Sant Jordi

We proudly announce that this week´s food will be sponsored by the Orfeo Catala de Mexic, who kindly gave us a little bit of encourage after writing for them a romantic slightly tacky short story. It is a shame that most of the award we already owe it to then thousand different charity groups, who´ve been supporting us lately.
sigh, sigh, sigh

Agradecimientos

We would like to thank the trust "Sisters of my mother" who so kindly helped this week with their charity to buy Milla´s food.

So let love come to my side

How can I stop my heart from being in such a despair. I move and get up, and talk and do as I am supposed to, but cannot sit listening to this haunting beat that goes on and on, without stop, without a breath, just tormenting me, this voices in my mind, whispering, telling me all the wrong things, and I walk and i pray for this torture to come to an end. To these days stop being so long, so much light covering me while this treacherous wind plays with my skirts and wouldn´t let me at ease. This secret crave that I cannot name, myself being my own traitor, the tears running helpessly down my cheeks, just wanting to scream, feverish and covered with shame, oh lord! let there be a word for this, to describe the sacred hours I´ve spent running away from thy glory and choosing instead to have them here, laying, sighs and mourns, without knowing how to call it. Please, let it come to me soon, that I wish not to keep living in this state and rather spend one minute of glory and passion next to it than this heavy eternity of calm peace.

Do not turn your back

Stop patronizing me, because maybe sometimes I might be a scared girl running away from the beasts outside, but more often i will be running away from myself and there are times when I am actually the dragon. So stop believing that i will be up for it, always, trusting and faithful. please do not confuse my flag, my loyalty, with being just another one of your girls.

and i am one big angry cunt, who just have had enough.

as i saw in some movie recently, "the bites of these bitch are harder than the barks"

The five of the week

exit music (for a film)-Radiohead

release- Pearl Jam

carrickfergus-The chieftains

who are you-Tom Waits

sonet-The verve

Charity

Milla's food is sponsored today by the kind donatives of the Eleanor Community for starved doggies.
Last's week where the result of the generosity of the Perfida Albion association.
We are a non lucrative group whose aim is to keep feeding Milla, Sandokan, Tiger Lilly and the babies that are to come.
The next thing will be start feeding the memebers of the house D of Dames.
sigh...

Solitude

This is how I feel
i keep writing
but nobody replies

Top five of the week

I don´t like mondays-Tori Amos
Anarchy in the UK-Sex Pistols
Where is my mind-Pixies
People of the sun-Rage against the machine
Señor matanza-Mano Negra

Indifference

Presumptuos man! the reason wouldst thou find,
Why formed so weak, so little and so blind?
Alexander Pope

yesterday she wanted to go to the movies, spend sometime hidden in the darkness, enyoing being anonymus and go for a while where other men and women are, experiencing life trough art and cinema. She went with her dear painter, friend who is playing a strange part in her life these days. They went to see Capote.

life and rage, facing the beast that is inside of us, our true self, what separates us from him, the fact that when you had the knife you didn´t stick it into someone else´s guts, but your own flesh, cut, cut, cut, wide open, bleeding, but the blood is yours and you don´t wake up in the morning covered with the blood of some teenage, or your mother. but you are still so full of rage, but there is a difference, the two of you are the same, but there is a difference, when you look into each other´s eyes and you can see the dark abysm that´s behind them, the monster hidden in his heart and you feel shivers down your spine. you know who is guilty and who is innocent, the one that it is still inside jail, and you are helpless and doný know how to help him. and it´s been so many years fighting these lost battles, leaving the fire of your soul behind. and you are the beast, the demon, with your selfishness and your hypocrisy and your turning your head to the other side. but there is a difference. and before you loose what´s left of your sanity you need to find it.

Illness

He felt the worm inside of him. He could actually listen it, crawling inside his body, trough his muscles, trough his organs. He was on his bed again, incapable of moving, staring at the walls, its white whiter than the white of his blood shot eyes. There were no answers and he couldn´t tell the origin, he just knew the sickness, the nausea, the perpetual feeling of rotting, of dying whilst being in a limbo between his life and his real death, walking in the thin line of his last memories and what he could consider real. He knew he was imagining things, that the creatures inside of him didn´t exist. He said this as he saw something moving under his belly skin, something long and sneaky, going up to his chest. He tried to stop it, push it away. But in the very end he knew it was useless, there was no way he could stop it. He closed his eyes and laid his body down.

relax, let yourself go, tomorrow you won´t remember anything, and the blood covering your hands and body will have no meaning. Another life won´t make a difference.

Illness

He felt the worm inside of him. He could actually listen it, crawling inside his body, trough his muscles, trough his organs. He was on his bed again, incapable of moving, staring at the walls, its white whiter than the white of his blood shot eyes. There were no answers and he couldn´t tell the origin, he just knew the sickness, the nausea, the perpetual feeling of rotting, of dying whilst being in a limbo between his life and his real death, walking in the thin line of his last memories and what he could consider real. He knew he was imagining things, that the creatures inside of him didn´t exist. He said this as he saw something moving under his belly skin, something long and sneaky, going up to his chest. He tried to stop it, push it away. But in the very end he knew it was useless, there was no way he could stop it. He closed his eyes and laid his body down.

relax, let yourself go, tomorrow you won´t remember anything, and the blood covering your hands and body will have no meaning. Another life won´t make a difference.