De ninguna parte...(Roma, Madrid y Estocolmo)

Tiene un aire  a  Greta Garbo.

Ella sabe quién es, Ella sabe quién es.

Tres veredas en las manos.

Ella sabe quién es, Ella sabe quién es.

y me mira con esos ojos negros que me hace mal de tanto bien...

Ella es de ninguna parte.

Ella sabe quién es, Ella sabe quién es.

Tiene un sentido del humor a lo woody  Allen.

Ella sabe quién es, Ella sabe quién es.

y me mira con esos ojos tristes que me hace mal de tanto bien.

y se me clava en la sien, Ella sabe quien…

Cuando se que me estas mirando, elijo mis movimientos con cuidado...

Que me hace mal de tanto bien y se me clava en la sien.
Ella sabe quién es, Ella sabe quién es.
Y se me clava en la Piel, Ella sabe quién es…

1+1

La Bonne Chance; Elle vient chez nous.

The disaster of the modern

This is it, it has arrived. My second day off in this opening mess (mess in a good way).


It is weird to wake up at seven, then eight, followed by nine and finally decide that ten is the correct answer for the alarm to stop. It happened, I woke up to see a face I haven't seen since four days and, to realize I was building up the same atmosphere once one of my boss had *and told me about it. I was sleeping and getting up in the same exhausted level. I was not inspired, I was not happy at all.

I had my crêpe with a bit of syrup instead of strawberries and cheese. I read the news, took a shower and decided to go to my mom's house. I miss her, I do, I don't deny that everytime I don't have a morning warm coffee I think of her, even though I dropped coffee three months ago. I miss her food, her constant telling of "what to eat, how to eat and when to eat it", I miss it. I miss my sisters too, especially my sweet Carmina, I miss her laugh, her fingers, her hair, her smile, I really do miss her. I think I miss a big part of my old life, the early arrivals chez moi, the arguing with dad, the minuscule things and taughts of him. I miss it too.

I really would like to twist a little bit this modern-used way of living. I have never lived like this before, running, screaming, feeling overwhelmed in all circumstances. I believe I'm getting into a non stop freeway of modern living, producing what we can later not use because of the lack of time and rest. I believe in so many differents ways of fixing things, I have been positive about it lately. I affirm it is never too late to change bit by bit, but, I also believe, time will tell well when to stop and how. Probably he sent me already all possible signs, probably it is time to really wake up and smell the coffee.

Música, droga inverosímil

Sentarse a escribir nunca fue tan difícil. Tener unas letras al frente y algo mas de una hora para sacar todo al aire antes de que vuelva a ser presa de mi elección nunca resultó tan complicado. Pareciese una comedia trágica de esas que leíamos cuando los maestros nos obligaban en los días de colegio y niñez.

Quise devolver el tiempo, quise tatuarme en aquella calle en donde "Halal food" estaba escrito en luces parpadeantes, acordarme de mi padre y su terquedad, de canciones en inglés en un radio chueco, canciones empalagosas que me mantenían embelesada cual droga cualquiera. Recordé el escenario, recordé que, ciertamente esa droga era la que seguia manteniendo copos de felicidad en mi. Me levanté y abrí el refrigerador, tomé la mermelada de cranberries, algo de queso crema y, mientras el calor derretia el mismo, subi a todo volumen "Saldremos a la lluvia". Recordé que a veces es tan necesario esos cortos momentos de estar con uno mismo mientras la droga de la música nos ayuda a curar. Aun es difícil continuar el escrito aquel, sin embargo, siento que será mas ligera la carga.

"All that time she was silent still"

Saving room

I've come to realize that I'm not as good as I thought in my english-writing-skills. I'm needing this in order to achieve things in a way I couldn't imagine before.

When the big "blue box" lets me out, I will let go so many ideas into paper. Hopefully that will happen soon. It turns out we all have a second good chance to start living.