miércoles, 13 de abril de 2011

Problems

Because you can get fired. You can lose your house. You can lose your money, or a chance for a better life. You can just have a bad day. After all, your family and friends will be there. In the end, that's what matters. They are the only utterly essential.

But when you argue with them. When you shout at them. When you wear the relationship. When you stop talking to them. When you lose them... What good is work? Your house, your money, your future. Your days. What does it matter? When you lose someone.

I found her in my ribcage. Banging angrily against her bone prison.

I cannot let you go. I'm sorry.

domingo, 10 de abril de 2011

Qui non intelligit, aut taceat, aut discat

Don't know why I trust you. And you. And you still. After all. And all that's left...

I haven't got any older brother. You are not what I expected. Liar.
~
The victim of you spoke to me.
Hidden and mourner.
And now... Do you feel better?
«So much better, madam.»
Now that you share with me the heaviness of your guilt?
«So much better, madam.»
Watching me die inside a little more every day?
«So much...»
Neglecting me.
«I'm sorry...»
Who's the victim now?
«But what can I do for you?»
What would you be willing to do for me?
«I'm sorry, madam... That's all I can say.»
~

Come close to me... Bite me. Harder, harder...

jueves, 7 de abril de 2011

Surreal

Lybia's War: Bombs, Massacres, Prisoners, Genocide, Trapped

Bahrain: Demonstrations, Police Violence, Dead, Destruction...

Syria: Protests, Dead, Assaults, Violence, Destruction...

Japan: Quake, Tsunami, Nuclear Alert, Hundreds of Aftermaths, Dead, Displaced

Ivory Coast: Genocide, Policy, Massacres, Fights, Dead, Trapped

NATO: Second Bombing Accident, 5 Rebels Dead, 10 Rebels Wounded

Lybia's War: Demonstrations began 15th February, the conflict has only got worse and still continues.

Shipwreck of Refugees from War: 300 people in the bark, 20 Dead, 51 Survivors, more that 200 Dissapeared

Pakistan: Explosions, Terrorism, Dead, Fear, Conflicts

Yemen: Revolution, Tribes, War's Spark, Killings, Violent Demonstrations every Friday
 Tomorrow is Friday, you thought. So want to see the news? But do you remember what is up?
What is up is nothing compared to what has truly happened. And yes, this is real and it's happening. Much more than this is happening. Do your own research if you think you can. This is unbelievable, but it's true.
Want to know the truth?
...

But...
...who knows the truth?

martes, 5 de abril de 2011

מפיה

The faintly chilling morning dew dampens my black suit
There is fog on the flagstone. The Father is lowly sighing
A helpless realization can only be more cruel
Everything is for the road that leads up to heaven.
The fog that can’t be blown away conceals our intentions until their gone
Whose soft pacing steps stop?
Without time to cry, the bullet that penetrated
Already took away the warmth



Each of us is guilty
Committed different crimes
I decide who is right
(and) who should go to sleep
Arguments can not settle (anything)
In this limitless night
Closing your mouth
Is your only grace
Everyone who blocks your front has sinned
Even with regret there isn’t a road back anymore
Announcing a verdict in the name of the father. That feeling doesn’t have any words that fit
Just like laughing while shedding tears, steadily staring into an absolute darkness
Just like tragedies from spreading will make me weak


Bow your head and kiss my left hand
In exchange for the promise to be forgiven
The ancient organ is in a corner
Always, always, playing an accompaniment
The sunlight soundlessly pierces through the black screen that’s moved by the wind
Sprinkling towards the herd of wild beasts that I tamed
The silent cries. The silent cries
Loneliness begins to ferment
Ceaselessly laughing at me
Memory gradually burns away
(In) the scene that used to be pure,
A brutal tenderness appears
In this time of fragility
Let us pray together


Benevolent father, I have already fallen
(I) cannot see the world of sins
Please forgive my self-pity
No one can say, no one will say
(that) It’s so hard to endure
Carved behind honour is a streak of loneliness
Closing both eyes, I see again
The scene in my dreams back then
The sky is a thick fog
The Father, holds my two hands
(and) gently walks past
That quiet, still, early morning flagstone road

[In the Name of the Father - Jay Chou]

lunes, 4 de abril de 2011

True story

Old dying man. He knew what love is.
The happiest one, years ago. He lived in a calm village, with his wife. They wanted to have children, they tried and they couldn't. But their desire was so imperious that they finally adopted a little girl. These loving parents started a family.
The girl grew up, and chose a bad path to walk. She married four men before turning 40. She had two children, a boy and a girl, each from different father. They spent most of his life with their grandparents, who took care for them while their mother was sinking in a spiral of night clubs, sex and alcohol.
How much did this marriage suffer? They always showed a smile.

He loved his grandchildren, even they were not theirs. The girl was cheerful. The boy was strong and happy. But years passed, and he became thinner and thinner.
There was a terrible car crash. Mother sat in a wheel chair, she is going for a walk at the hands of his courageous father, who never gave up. Who always loved her and her children. Can you believe he still could smile? He did.
But, what happened with the boy? He had problems, so many problems. He couldn't hold it on, not even with the support and the love of his grandpas. Drugs became convenient. His life was nonsense chaos.

«Calm down, please! Don't get nervous, don't do it again!
Let your grandmother alone, she has no money for you! Stop it now!
Please! Don't hit your mother! Don't hit your grandmother! Why do you do this?
No! Please, stop! Stop! I said STOP!»
Bang, silence. Two shots to the chest. He's dead.

After two months in jail, he was released. Three months after its release, he died.
This old dying man couldn't smile anymore. The pain was so huge. The wife also died in those three months.

If you give them the world, you will condemn them to suffering.

We are too many people. We remain. We are a remainder.
I won't give new life to this world. But I will keep the one which is already here safe.
I will fight for the life of the ones who need me, even if it sends me to hell.

But maybe something happens...
Maybe this world gets better again...
And the balance gets the equilibrium.

domingo, 3 de abril de 2011

Phobia

It's enough. I don't know what to think right now.
You know this is going wrong. You know it. What can you do about it? Are you sure you love me?
You are hurting me. Each time you look at me with downcast eyes, bated breath and tiny voice.
Sugar, we are going down.

I think I miss the skin...

viernes, 1 de abril de 2011

Ana akrahak

Who am I kidding? I accept it.
But don't really need to say nothing... Not here, not today, not even tomorrow. I like this. I don't mind this.
And the life is running down the fingers, as unpolluted water, getting dirty as it touches the skin.


The largest falcon in his lowest fly!
I don't think so. I don't think. No, I don't think you no more.