.:shattered:.

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.

.:character:.

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.

.:undercuts:.

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.

.:shhhh:.

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

.:error:.

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?

.:fish:.

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

somewhere. 

.:rayuela:.

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"

 S.N.S.

.:105:.

"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."

Rayuela
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.

.:milwaukee:.

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
EXACTLY!!
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