We will ALWAYS have Thailand...

 For us, Thailand is Never Never Land.

 To say "See you in Thailand"  is to say goodbye.

Forever.

Last subway.

I

 ...we were so drunk we couldn't ride a bike. Drunk and happy. Happy and close. Close and cold.Cold and lost.Lost and Horny, between stations, and empty corridors. Alone among hobos and professional lonely people.

We just sit there, killing the bottle, touching our hands, listening to the noises of the ride.

"How can I be so white?"-  you said -"just look at my arm!" - your skin is so white under the ugly,pale lights of the subway. everything is ugly under a light like this.

"You sure are. you will never get a tan, you will just BURN."

"I wish I had some color. I am only a step away from being a vampire." -you insist-

I keep touching you skin, your soft, pale skin. I look straight into your pale watergreen eyes, I touch your red hair, red that has green flares by moments. I think you're full of color. I don't say a thing.

" I think I'm so white because I'm like a piece of paper. I'm a canvas! I'm this way so I can be painted on, written on. Would you? would you give ME colors?"

II


     Another beautiful scar. 


I woke up and decided that TODAY was going to be the day I'd finally take your heart off my wall.

It's been there, burning, burning.

 Being the first thing I see when I wake up, mocking me when I get back home, shining among the other hearts, proud in it's happy unfairness.

 But it's strong, and the magnets holding it to the door are tight. Once I grab it, it wont come off easily and then I slide my hand over the edges  and I make a thin, deep would that stains door, heart and hand with bright red blood. I curse, I drop the heart.

 I can't help it. I smile.  YOU keep coloring the morning.

Wish

To my enemy I said, in a dream:

"may your depression be dry and bottomless,
may your agony be long and painful."

La puerta de la noche

  Este momento es una compuerta.

Shrivatsa

Para V. En todas las realidades en las que nos hemos conocido.

 ...Y ahí estabamos, una vez mas rodeados de personas, de coches, del ruido del mundo que no se detiene ni cambia su orbita mientras el futuro se disuelve en un atardecer polvoso, en un crepúsculo naranja  que no nos deja pensar claramente y nos deja aterrorizados, desnudos... La avalancha de sensaciones y recuerdos nos sepulta mientras reímos y lloramos, mientras la indiferencia del mundo al torrente de lo que sentimos me enfurece...

 "¿Cómo vamos a continuar? ¿cómo seguir despues de todo? -dices- "no lo sé.¿ Diciendo "gracias y adiós"?

  Respondo solo para ocultar mi furia y tragar mis lágrimas. "no se puede quedar asi" -dices-"jamás volveré a ser la misma"

 Quiero contestar algo profundo y contundente. Algo que te haga sentirte mejor, y que me haga sentir menos culpable, con un poco de suerte un poco feliz.Quiero sentir ALGO todavía.

 "Pero...¿Y Tailandia? ¿y nuestra casa?"

 Todo eso lo tenemos y estamos ahi, en este momento EN UNA REALIDAD ALTERNATIVA, NO MUY ALEJADA DE ESTA (me hago una nota mental en este preciso instante: impactar mi rostro contra la pared cada vez que vuelva a decir esta estupida frase, por mucho que crea en ella)

 "Yo DEBO tener algo. ¿Puedes hacer algo por mí? ¿puedes acompañarme una ULTIMA vez?"

     Esta pregunta tiene el peso de toda la historia. De todos los momentos vividos en atardeceres idénticos. No puedo negarme. No podré dejar de admirarte.

 Y lo hiciste.

La Shrivatsa quedo grabada en ti. El nudo eterno, el "endess loop". Así, recordaremos las sonrisas y los placeres. Los amaneceres blancos y los besos en el asiento trasero del coche,en una madrugada de hace mucho tiempo.

El Señor del ruido

Hail to the lord of noise
The lord of the taste&feel
the mescaline love
My pain is a shiny shield.

No Memory Man

We are the X Generation. We were not the problem. We could have been the SOLUTION.

still haunts me... still SCREAM

Onan

Metafora del cuerpo

Poesia es masturbacion.

I don't

Bad choice

5am

"If I say something: Bad choice.

If I sit down: Bad choice.

If you stay: Bad choice.

If I laugh: Bad choice.

If I go: Bad choice.

If I tell you: Bad choice.

If I wake you up: Bad choice

If you remember me: Bad choice.

If I dream: Bad choice.

If You cry: Bad choice.

If I write: Bad choice.

If I'm horny: Bad choice.

If I leave:Bad choice

If tell the truth: Bad choice.

If you look at me: Bad choice.

If I smoke: Bad choice."

(already on the subway, already on my way to nowhere, this guy just beside me had a mantra going on. It went for as long as he was on the train, and it was so true I wondered if I was still dreaming...

"Si je dis quelquechose: Mauvais choix, Si je me barre: Mauvais choix, si je te reveille: mauvais choix...)

This is...

This is what I think I do.

This is what my "friends" think I do

This is what bandmates think I do

This is what my sisters think I do

What you think I do.

This is what I really do.

Lutetia Parisiorum

Aspirar...

A rips,pairs, rap is,parsi,as rip,prisa,PA sir,prias,Pisar...

...Paris.

nights

...sometimes sadness was so overwhelming I couldn't contain it inside me. I couldn't be still couldn't be in one place.

I had to walk and walk and walk until I was exhausted. Until the Ipod died on me in the middle of nowhere.

Spent the rest of the night searching for wonders in the trash.

37 grados

...el amor ha sido algo putrefacto. Un hedor humedo que todo lo envuelve y lo impregna.

Pero una sabana batida de tu fragancia puede dejarse secando al sol de Occitania, o de México.

Desesperado, el hedor sera por un momento muy poderoso,mas apestoso que nunca.

Después, aunque el recuerdo haga de mi piel un cuero acartonado y descolorido,no quedara recuerdo de tu presencia.

The 4th Chakra

stop it

You don't deserve you depression.

Being down, being REALLY DOWN is an exquisite feeling, not to be confused with simple emotions like insecurity, fear or self PITY.

Down and out in Paris, London, Mexico, Lund, Los Angeles... the world.

under your spell

Hell, I thought I would never come back here. I thought I was so over all this nonesense!

Thank you.

THANK YOU for all this.

10 years in France

Nothing like a dream.

Thank you.

I have nothing else to say.

September

"...You were staying with me for the weekend. We came back to my place, it was night.

We were frozen by the rain and the cold weather and you went straight to a hot shower. I did the same and I came out to find you lying half asleep and half naked in bed.

Your skin was so warm and soft and we made love,slowly and intensely, the way you like it.

You were still lying facedown.

Listen to the rain -you said-

and oh, we listened.

We listened to the raindrops tap the window while we made love..."

I rest my case

Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

— Homer, The Iliad