Tu pieza se parece a mi corazón, quizá al tuyo también. 
Es así,  cada que la vida nos ha tratado mal, se desprende un pedazo de mi corazón, de mi, o de ti. Así como se rompe un vidrio o una cerámica. Y en nuestra lucha nuestra supervivencia siempre juntamos nuestras partes y tratamos de rearmarnos, de completarnos, muchas veces disimulando las heridas. Conforme ha pasado el tiempo, hemos creado una capa protectora "anti-rupturas". Nos la hemos añadido y de alguna manera llevamos la cara en alto. 
El problema es que ahora al igual que los vidrios de los coches, cuando se rompen, se rompen en mil pedacitos. 
Y al vernos allí en el suelo tan fragmentados se nos acaba la vida.

.:the path:.

Every time I run , I write
every time I write, I'm wrong
every time I'm wrong, I recover.


We go through good times and bad times,
just like the tide, a never ending flow of back and forth.
It is in the bad times though, when we are able to show character.
On the top of the wave we all smile,
on the bottom just a few survive.

Will i change, will i remain the same?

"I was slow to change, but i changed.
I changed and changed, and with no more time left, i will change again."


.:quiero sabre:.

When I woke up she was not there,
and I realized that it was all a dream.
She did not exist, and i was not him.



There are cuts and uncuts,
there are cuts that never hurt
and healthy flesh that will rotten.
Will it be deep, or will I grow tall?
Taller than Her?
Today I see in red and smell of cunt,
my heart flew out
beyond good and evil.


.:far time:.

We will grow independently together
between eyes and missteps.
In the cold in the warm,
when you hold my hand
we all turn yellow.
It is as far as it will take
with a never ending repeat
of what we are today.


.:Alone is where im closer to you:.

The seclusion of myself into places so vast, so untouched, in a way is liberating and in others it takes me closer to my soul. To the people that aren't close to me anymore, to reflect on my behavior as a human. To the most pure form of myself.



Please refrain from whistling while at work,
it diminishes the power of my playlist....



The unexpected, the error, the surprise. That's what happens when you use film, you capture a moment that might be or might not as real as it is in your mind.
What is it real then?
Your memory, or the factual evidence?



Do you dream in color?
do you dream in black and white?


.:que hacer:.

Hay temporadas que me dan por no escribir.
A veces me llena
a veces me desborda.
Pero al final es algo nostalgico
ya sea que lo haga o que no.
El querer,
el no poder,
el poder sin querer,
y viceversa.


.:hanging on you:.

I never thought I would miss you
till the end of my years. 
My yearning is restless
I detest restless
It is not like with the ones that are gone
and can't ever be seen,
will never..
You are around



Bouncing back and forth
between red and black
on the hopscotch squares,
I never hit heaven.

.:rowdy river of love:.

"I found a raccoon,
and she kiss me to the moon"




"Vanidad de creer que comprendemos las obras del tiempo:
El entierra sus muertos y guarda las llaves. Solo en sueños, en la poesia, en el juego (encender una vela, andar con ella por el corredor) nos asomamos a veces a lo que fuimos antes de ser esto que vaya a saber si somos."

Julio Cortazar

.:lengua floja:.

Ayer hablaste sin coherencia
mientras yo escuchaba atentamente.
En tus ojos, sal
en mi boca, silencio.
De repente me besaste
y yo
comence a soñar.


.:life in the house of cancer:.

Standing by the foot of your bed
looking through your blue.
The world turns left,
if you hold my hand.

It fills me to know
that there is no stench,
that there is no blood,
that there is no ghost.

In the house of cancer
the years are passing through the
spaces between our moments.
Here, i have lived my future nights.



I got your postcard today
it made me incredibly happy...

.:get your own brain:.

So funny when you are thinking all day about something and then for some reason you read it
or hear that exact though in the newspaper or someone else's conversation.
Sometimes on a song on the radio or a talk show on tv.
The exact same discussion you are having in your head, and you want to yell
Well fuck you and your little facebook

.:lying in sadness:.

Moon to my earth come from some other space
so totally white at our evening meal,
wearing a coat that will not last the year,
I love you completely as salt.

Tell the one about an hour before darkness
in your room above the Bangcock Massage Parlour.
The one where pain rises with the bread,
filling you with its yeasting smell.

It's dark.
You exhale a fist of memory.
I love you like weathering wood
in a room of empty pianos.

When you return to something you love,
it's already beyond repair.
You wear it broken.

James L. White


Contigo siempre es lo mismo
solo hablas de sexo
Conmigo simepre es igual
solo hablo de ella
Con ellos todo es diferente
ni se acuerdan de nosotros..


.:all in all:.

you told me not to worry,
you told me this would never die
i agreed.
yet, ineluctably, things fade a way
even love at some point disappears
that night with knives in your eyes
you turned around and walked away
such disdain
just like when She left,
and Nothing was left
now that time has passed
and i have grown
i know with out a doubt
i wished i had stayed


Dicen que el interes tiene pies..
pues ni me interesan tus pies,
ni mis pies van a ti.


.:para ti:.

..volviendome loco,
derrochando la bolsa y la vida la fui,
poco a poco,
dando por perdida.
Tanto la queria,
que tarde en aprender a olvidarla
diecinueve dias y quinientas noches..



.:one last poem for richard:.

"December 24th and we’re through again.
This time for good I know because I didn’t
throw you out — and anyway we waved.

No shoes. No angry doors.
We folded clothes and went
our separate ways.

You left behind that flannel shirt
of yours I liked but remembered to take
your toothbrush. Where are you tonight?

Richard, it’s Christmas Eve again
and old ghosts come back home.
I’m sitting by the Christmas tree
wondering where did we go wrong.

Okay, we didn’t work, and all
memories to tell you the truth aren’t good.
But sometimes there were good times.
Love was good. I loved your crooked sleep
beside me and never dreamed afraid.

There should be stars for great wars
like ours. There ought to be awards
and plenty of champagne for the survivors.

After all the years of degradations,
the several holidays of failure,
there should be something
to commemorate the pain.

Someday we’ll forget that great Brazil disaster.
Till then, Richard, I wish you well.
I wish you love affairs and plenty of hot water,
and women kinder than I treated you.
I forget the reason, but I loved you once,

Maybe in this season, drunk
and sentimental, I’m willing to admit
a part of me, crazed and kamikaze,
ripe for anarchy, loves still."

— by Sandra Cisneros


.:despues, no hay despues:.

extraño hacer contigo
hasta lo que nunca hicimos


Muerdeme mas fuerte!
Asi, que no se me olvide.
Ahi, adentro,
que lo traiga conmigo hoy.
Que me perdure,
que me arrepienta.
Que lo vea e indiscutiblemente piense en ti,
en tu sabor,
en lo que nunca seremos y siempre fuimos
Encierrame ahi!
en la sala detras de tus ojos,
donde nadie me encuentre
donde nadie me escuche
donde quiero vivir por siempre,
pues aqui, aqui no pasa nada
todo esta igual


.:frances farmer:.

it's so relieving to know that you are leaving,
as soon as you get paid.


.:about a girl:.

it's true
a house built for two,
is too small for you...


.:on kafka:.

"forgetting always involves the best,
for it involves the possibility of redemption"


.:her men:.

she had her men
that she kept all to herself
and took everywhere she went
like a bible to the bed

.:la verdad:.

there is not a single day that you don't corss my mind,
in a good way, that is....



if you are not invited,
you are not welcome.


.:before jumping:.

despues de todo, quien pierde mas?


.:yo contra mi:.

fuck i been trying to update the stupid "comments HTML" for the last 3 hours, and now my blogs is all messed up... getting old and forgetting things, it's useless!
mis letras se estan quedando viejas...


la distancia en sí, no lo es nada.
lo que nos mata es el tiempo que nos toma recorrerla…


.:the beginning of the end:.

sweaty hands, flaky hair, zits in face.
you're oozing out of me, the way you wanted it to be



“She had blue skin, And so did he. He kept it hid And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by— And never knew.”
— Shel Silverstein


.:your luck:.

"even a broken clock
 is right twice a day"


.:raw fish:.

that late night sushi was filled with strange dreams...



"A lover for attention keeps the faithful entertained.
Disposition may be fetching but the world moves on and leaves you far behind"


.:por siempre:.

"No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning"

Haruiki Murakami. Norwegian Wood


The perfect ending to this piece-of-shit story!

.- Joel Barish



there is no greater pleasure than self achievements...



“But i didn’t understand then. That i could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair”
- Haruki Murakami



I desperately look for attention when I’m with someone.
I desperately fix myself when im a lone,
in order to be with me.


.:thank you:.

Feeling like shit this year, i usually like the holidays, but this one i don’t even feel myself. Its been a tough year.
holidays are supposed to be spent around the people you love or at least the once you care about the most. i have alienated myself from all of them, and now im here just by myself with my stupid computer and a glass of wine.
i guess that would be my love


.:too fast:.

Met a girl at a bar last night, we had drinks giggles and danced, we made out at the counter like there was no tomorrow. We had a late night snack and went to her place, had sex all night long and then a cigarette. Woke up early this morning and went to buy groceries, cooked a kick ass brunch and cuddle on her couch. Talked about family affairs and life. Later on she sent me a Facebook friend request. I told her, darling you are going too fast….


.:just found:.

" half empty, glass half fullwe broke the glass emir we swam in the ocean emir
we took each other places emir, ugly and crazy and beautiful, more beautiful than we will ever go, because somewhere in our souls, we understand each other.
we love each other.
we want to stay, because of a look in the other's eyes, or a crook in the other's smile.
we will stay, even if we leave each other, we will be together."

just found your letter on my laptop
made me cry



the best thing about sorrow
is finding yourself at the bottom of the well