Fantasy

where´s the time we use for nothing
what is nothing for us?
for me nothing´s to fantasize; the episode today was thousands of miles away:
there were people that mysteriously I understand, I recognized them, they were like me, but look diferent, but think different, smell different.
They´re taller, green, they had a different sense of humor, they´re more tolerant than me...were younger than me...´re more simple than me.

how many steps I must give
how many steps to get to your hair
how many faces to get to yours
how many breaths to yours

All of us have practice on this. So I start a conversation on my fantasy with you, thrown on the grass, drinking something, you´re so calm;
today a very hot sunday, you got some sandals, we went for it to your house hours later, i see your feet bare.
You make me laugh, I make you laugh.
Suddenly i hear in the other room, tv speaking; my neigbor´s caged bird singing like the demon, I hear my other neigbor´s child crying. My sister singing a galician song. I got hot, i´m sweating; I see my clothes thrown on the floor. I really want to spend my day here, just like a teenager. I don´t care about anything and anybody but this fantasy, the grass, the people and your hair.

Line A

line a
makes you feel like a ghost in a boat sunk
windows at the elbow level like in line e, but made of dark
wood, well preserved, its brooch security made of leather
in a blacksmithing base, all like a middle age carriage...so
what? really, that´s like it seems...material once again
telling me wasn´t a touristic zone through the train was
running...even when the natural conserved material
should make the train worthy of exposure.
In a square, four emblematic personages, the typical italian
factions face, thin and small body, languid and negligible
eyes of a woman, dressed in a very ordinary way...next to
her, a twelve old age boy, curls on the neck, was slept,
open mouth, dressed with converse, scarf, piped jeans,
with paired jackets....the third personage, had some native
profile, with his red morral at shoulder; and in the last seat,
a handsome face, dressed like a footballer in his free
time....better described, was like another argentine soccer
fan.
Hanging of the roof the same funny rounded and yellowed
lamps wich were installed too in line E subway train; steel
hoop´s support, attached of the roof through dirty canvas
straps set with nuts, canvas dirty for time of use.
This time wasn´t nostalgia but a strange feeling of traveling
in a subway museum train, but more like a ghost cause
people were traveling with serious faces, going to work.

_._.v._.

a complicated web of signs that make the most clear intuition called ilusion, called in loving, called l.o.v.e., just a decision, all fall under its own weight.
l.o.v.e. cames as a result while being
looking for something that should seems red and beautiful... l.o.v.e. is a construction, it´s like a model...
the verb has chanched from "to love" for "to design"
from "to have it" for "to try to understand it"
: respect + care + protection + family image = l.o.v.e.
: image + intelligence + position + behavior + attention = l.o.v.e.
: protection + house/car/money + friends + a glance of the last lover + clear future = l.o.v.e.
: companion + similarity + business + image = l.o.v.e.
: great sex + compromise/or not + great image/or not + sense of humor = l.o.v.e.
whatafuck the love is?
zero+zero=love; comes from the universe...but how to recognizes it?
............to construct l.o.v.e..to weight, to confront, to compare l.o.v.e..
it´s an android´s system description...
body is a great machine...intelligence is sofisticade, it can construct the great feeling...who could resist that amazing hope? the best mask of the party? who motherfuckers could do!!
l.o.v.e. is irresistible when there´re elementary needs....

Line E

The E line it´s the weirdest of all subway lines
I remembered for short times inside of this subway places of my childhood in a very basic city, in the nineties.. i remember this days with a peculiar natural light, own of that small city, a calm light cause a calm environment, like sundays..I used to go to very basic places by then: my elementary school, the church, friend´s houses and my previous house; over all that places, predominated a yellow color in walls, like cream, yellow lights from the lamps, (still not yet the savers focus kind were used), objects owners of the midle class, and nineties design.
I came nostalgic with the casserole lamps shape, with yellow light in the subway. I was sitted in a foil bank for two, at my side, a forty woman from work, with a plastic bag, bah!...in front of me, a teenage girl very similar to my, and at my other side the window, with absurd steel protections at the elbow level, with the subway tunnel wall just a few centimeters of me passing in dangerous speed. Make me think about the feeling of living at fifteen minutes near of the forest, sounds crazy but look: I realized now was like a savage feeling made up of a very open place, no buildings, no difficulties, all calm and nostalgic.
The fucking sound the subway line "e" was doing!..: a sound that seems to tell you "look the machine´s older than the other subways machine, cause this is not a touristic zone", or "look that´s how the machine sounds, but is just the travel from your work to your home"...What a thing..

whyinenglish Song List I

M6S Song . Doves
House Of Cards . Radiohead
Cherry . Ratatat
Ramparts . John Frusciante
Still Suspicion Holds You Tight . Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Sunday Part II . Cibo Matto
You Make It Easy . Air
Wicked Game . Chris Isaak
Tell Me When The Party´s Over . Jay-Jay Johanson
The Eraser . Thom Yorke
Into The Woods . My Morning Jacket

The White Mass Turn Me Paranoid

Paranoia came today (wed april 16th)
when view was white while the ride;
Sun was all red, like a red moon, without rays, without its sense of being, like mars if it would be closer.
City was in the middle act of moving, almost finishing the day, when everybody think in their home.
Like "ensayo sobre la ceguera", have you read that book?... was the city at that hour of this evening..., the eyes failing in the most basic driving tricks made of this day the saddest of somepeople´s life. That white mass coused fatal car accidents.
A smell over all the city, that white thing in clothes, inside houses, all a mess. All an event now when people seems to be living normally, vacations are very far away, no more concerts, "agro" theme is in resting, but this shit sounds like a lot of things to me: cows need grass and here people need cows... need clean air, need food, need everything that represents a big problem to get it now. Paranoid about my surroundings, paranoid as always am, paranoid like my face when was the first class day here with thousands of girls walking to all sides for school...I need my man maybe...but paranoid: i´m just paranoid rigth now.

Profile 1

Like a newborn I start to thing about the new face of everything everymorning...the task today is the peculiar trick wich some people use to talk. The caracteristic that give me the impresion they have on mind the intention just for the very moment. Who have closed cases about subjects they aren´t available for subtlety. That´s quite according to profiles.
Just like when unconsciously we go over the supposed certainty for things and every sentence is said to guess the true or whatever appear like the true with lies, with little tricks disguised like white weapons; what a dirty way to get the true for the indefensives...for people who everymoment have the pure idea on mind, always exposed to the world... the hability for tricks steals positions, make systems, rules lifes, rules movements; and the pure idea not always is defended.

Tourist Walk II

Yes, I´ll say it again: a tourist place is like a fake landscape painted on a quarter hanging of a wall of my granny´s house.
And who are the peolple that love this kind of instalations?
Yes, you are in the right...the gringo, who more!!. It´s their style, their way to celebrate their like for everything, making an altar to things...isn´t like this?
for this theory I think some curious places have been alterated to install at the tourist...that dangerous and sometimes ignorant personage.
Some huge zoos are the must true instalation to give animals the most original place to stay and for tourists to admire that wild life... or, have you seen around there a gardener cutting the grass to the deers? or picking up the fish shit? or bathing a lion?...No!! you´re not...so, why could not people conserve those historic or curious places just the most original posible?
fiuff!! or maybe I just don´t like that places where are ten shops selling the same souvenirs, and all is fake, I just get funny angry.
But, but, but....I went to an amazing place, was an old neighborhood..you supose to see people equally beautiful as beauty the old and french style buildings living there. But in this ex port some zones very poor people have taken this beautiful old houses. More inside, you see again circumstances give to a place exceptional features: houses were painted with different colors, because the poverty of that old times (beginnings of c. 20th)just allowed people to paint their houses in parts, with scraps of paint given from the ships that arrive at the old and today forgotten port.
And the port..mmm delicious cause are devastating, forgotten, dirty and old, all a survivor, like a mummy, all real. Capital are limited for the river, so I saw some people taking a little boat to cross the river... I thought was something touristic but no! for my surprise was a public transport; bizarre but amazing...
I saw too, a rusty boat, on surface; enormous cranes, a black and a white one; the river was black, and the sand with black points, where small bubbles were sparking on the river surface...and some people with instalations of poverty around the port... woow
...fuck the moment when I damage my camera in México...

Eclectic

Without company
With a "minnie fashion"(emo) fringe
a blouse 60´s retro style, dark new jeans,
fashion brilliant red sandals,
an old fashioned brown bag on shoulder
I always thought everybody display on street a way of life;
a defined one: for their clothes and the way they walk: speed in steps, have a destination and such attitude in their movements.
I see people laughing, in sunday, giving me a quick glance.
Everybody seems to be making the sunday ritual but me.
I feel unique for this very moment...
I feel lonely...out of planet...of wave...I feel out...
I´m right now like a tourist of every simple place...
an spectator...just that...
Where are my planet?
I feel eclectic right now
and for the first time i find that name
for my situation for years and years of loneliness
but anything like today, anything like this weird month...
I have such sensation like if I would have taken a piece of everything around and have made my outfit for the sunday ride...for my life ride.. I feel eclectic, unique and very lonely.
Suddenly i find a great song on ipod...
and I say for thousandth time to me: i´m better right now, like now, eclectic, lonely, unique, I can´t surrender, I just cannot.

A brief reflection

When I arrived here I started to see things from my own site. Behaviour of habitants are very close described for my landlord: "a behaviour of self-sufficiency". Arrogance, like somepeople would briefly describe.
I reflected after have read an article, why "arrogance" like a particularity of behaviour here...
On century 16th undiscovered places were a jewel to men for the easy way to appropriating them and settle a civilization already developed at the other side of the ocean. What a great advantage, comparable maybe with some ways to earn a living nowadays; some cases are result of a good fortune, a very privileged position maybe, and certainly by capabilities. The very good conditions and speed of this process or "easy way" could make people at some point attribute all that ingredients to build the egos, behaving arrogantly with a big proud, and then identity for all that "ingredients".

We Mexicans, have such kind of peculiarity: we are made for two inheritanced models of thinking and being...historically speaking the first are a culture wich never has had received any external influence; and the other, came suddenly, a big culture that appropriated this place and allowed the mixture of races. First one are already in a good percent in our blood. Such situation make an eternal conflict: we are designed in body and soul to live in a mode that no loger exists; and the mode that was adopted suddenly never has been understood at one hundred percent. Three weeks ago I went to the Museum of Fine Arts where I saw a paint of century 18th: was a naked(is "naked" the technical name of those kind of paintings?) and were called "The latin american women". I´ll get naked but I don´t care: I felt very identified with her corporal forms that where more indigenous than european(just for naming two defined models). For this sudden fact today I feel myself more included in that side: the interrupted culture.
I think Mexicans have a very important work to do.

First Class Day

What a lovely place
What a lovely time right now
And what a lovely way to feel everything i have around me. Today a simple relationship make me smile sincerely once again since three or more days ago when something like a depression was starting for this days, being so lonely walking for places i would have to be sharing with somebody...ooh the absence of camera, the power of it...
but is the begining... i remembered one day in kindergarden, a sudden memorie of a friendship so related and similar to me. I´m in love of love, of me, in love of my similars. How could innumeral things make of yourself a specific profile that when you are in college you find people like you, so than, it seems to be yourself in another body. It´s amazing. It´s really a love energy i can´t ignore.

Tourist walk

Beautiful like a paint of a fictional landscape framed on wood hung on a wall of my granny´s house...
Beautiful like the intent of birth staged for christmas...
Beautiful as fake. But at the end, a tourist site is beautiful. Here to begin sky was beautiful, just the sunset reflected on sea.
Was big, with two long and wide sidewalks at each side of four dam all full of italian restaurants installed on the ground floor of red and big brick buldings.
In dams were two antique and historic ships like floating museum. Inside of one of them, the coat of paint were so thick, for the restoration for tourism.... But i must confess i´ve never had been in any antiquity floating.
I liked this tourist walk.

Holy Friday

Ooh the rain....
it´s stranger
being now on holy friday
I´m really alone today; all people in world planned a weekend trip. Some of us are really close to the statistic of deads for car accidents; i hope my family stay safe this year.
There are only this new drops of rain and me knowing us each other;
a new sensation, cause a new smell, feeling, city, it´s no more the damp earth smell of my country when it´s raining. Now it´s like a yellow flavor, a very lightweight but big drops falling over my shoulders, with a stranger and very high air.
The leaves of this unknown trees are falling violently to the floor, and i have had to run cause the opened windows of my department.
My family have to be asking themselves what would i be doing right now, making some scene or image on mind about me...........cause now i´m really imagining them in our tiny cottage surrounded by the pine forest........"It´s a familiar day".....
BeaR always says there must be some kind of telepathy between people. In this moment i really feel connected to mine.

Out of your planet

Hey, i´m here, say my spirit for streets...
Just thinking after a long walk across the new city, how quikly can the good and safe vision of yourself on mirror became into a monster.
First you date with everybody out and check before get out your image on mirror trying to get the most comfortable possible and at the simple instant when you make the most simple comparision with another kind of people you are fried.
It´s just like i were a ghost, without body, without existence, just a pair of eyes floating above sidewalk, with no mision but read the stranger faces... what a tired task...what a natural instinct, the one for nothing but for catch the essence of a city, copying for oneself all the information, for our internal machine, just for get a result; is it culture? the result of the view that we pass through our own mould?
And another thing:
Will i convert my beauty, my trust, all my life,..? i would like to stay alert every moment of my change just to save the memory of myself now, like make the great collector of feelings who i am.

I´m different here; i look different at least.
Is the 21st century. Every minute i realize time passes slowly. Places and people often change slowly if there doesn´t happen such a big change on every world people live. So slowly or the necessary slow to conserve for masses the same factions face for hundreds of years, that in museums i found a common the-new-city-girl painted in oil or watercolor framed on a beauty bronze framework or the-new-city-boy dressed in uniform like a General of the 19th century.
Ah the races... i´ll make a pretty short description of mine... i don´t appear in any museum...i´m lost between races, but i must say i have facial and physical features in common with all people of my country. That´s a good sign i must have defined origins. I think it´s pretty interesting.

Could I eat a shoe?

Now, i really don´t know if i´m humanist or frivolous.
I don´t know even if that´s a valid confrontation.
I need to eat, to love, to run swim sing to help to talk but i need to wear so delicious to achieve my mind could be transported and my feet could walk above clouds, and fly through an odorous air, an air which its density is between water´s and hot air´s density.
What was the impression that my soul is breathing again
feeling a little bit more close of my zest for life, my mission, my design.. but is here in this text described the art, the beauty, some different and out of talk with the real mision of my life.
Wathever; colors, textures and shapes together in an object, could be delicious. That evokes smells and tastes, is this very moment when you compare the sight with the taste so you compare the senses and for this you feel, you live in the very moment when you see a silly and beauty shoe wich have any consciousness of its beauty, i t s e l f... isn´t this sufficiently explained to say the clothes, the car, the image, your shoes, your watch and your personal care are.... I daresay: more than just important? yes of course; things give a person a kind of care, a kind of answer to ourselves, a kind of tribute to us, and at the same time we communicate around us we are so important we are worried about our welfare wathever it means...oh, means.. the timely word...i´ll explain myself: our welfare could mean different ways to wear; we all are different and unique so welfare means in this case s t y l e...another delicious cuestion...so then:
materialism, money....come on: we have to think about all that too...it´s not frivolous or maybe frivolity is not so bad. Or maybe is not frivolity.

Since monday (song I).

Since monday, how i´ll rationalize you on 365?
it´s a very unfair life game
But easy; look:
compress that fifty percent of your current life on a zip document. Then save it within a freezer of your invention. Hold it until next winter or more. (another month is nothing).

Meanwhile make one two three promises to the wind or to you, at the end, will be the sameone:
wind you, you wind;
wind wind, you you

Another lovely cliché here it is:
the missing feeling,
the sadness, the sudden happiness of memories
all that shit made song
of a person thinking about herself is the only one feels like.

Meanwhile make one two three promises to the wind or to you, at the end, will be the sameone:
wind you, you wind;
wind wind, you you

At the hell, you´ve never felt this way.
I´m gonna respect my heart not promises.
It´s just insane: hold the past one year.
That means lots of energy it could be just for me
even if i love or hate you, i´m not ready to hold good part of my brain on the same place at my twenties.

But let´s see how it happen since monday
Thank people like me the word "but" exists. Couse the last months have been really passionated could be a year compressed :)
now i´m in love; let´s see the next winter.

Rainbow

Today is one of that days when you don´t believe in anything around you.
Tears start to appear in a different color of the usual: some green tone and a bitter flavor.
It´s like a wish too, to feeling you that way. Personally i really try to feel me like, some three times at week, just for keep the custom. It´s what people call juicy maindless or i don´t know.
This write has all signs of a second teenage of mine that could be useful for a highschool conference or something.
This isn´t useful but for let you out of guilt for feeling like me.
Come on, lose some minutes; time is valuable for this moments too. Let´s know the different colors of the silly inocent rainbow (or the wrong colors, like the drawing at the top imitating the rainbow; as you prefer; i swear i chose the correct colors on illustrator :P) with tears; let´s have that sensation for,.. nothing, because i´m ordering you, or couse it´s simply delicious: since you make a fantasy on mind until the ice cream or chocolate cake, or the megasabritas finish, or someone has came at the door;
im gonna finish this freaky emo write couse i have a telephone call; at the hell the rainbow :)

The jungle

My mom have, i wouldn´t lie, 1hundred potted plants inside and out of the house, without counting the plants of the garden. My house is a jungle since i was a little handyfeety. Now, i love them, but some little sense is starting to appear inside me with the other face of that like.
They need water, could you believe it?
They are here just for the view, in an artificial ambient, giving me work all day, on vacations.
my mom´s wish is to calm her ancious hands with this little friends, but she is starting to abuse of that relationship. First, the stair was full of plants of only one colour. Then, plants of different colours; three: plants of different styles, heights, with flowers, green leaves, brown leaves, blabla, four: two different plants in a same pot, five: pots up of the window-sink garden, thats isn´t insane for they?, thats isn´t like the gluttony of the gardening? i don´t found any other name for such kind of sickness.
Today i was on my room, with a finger on my nose when a stranger sound stoped my ugly habit: something fell of the sky in.., guess what, above the garden out of my window... i went upstairs and a part of the glass of a window was out of place. I discover that the rubber of the window days later was damaged. I examinated it an discovered a branch of creeper plant has entered and replaced the rubber of the window. This little mishap made me carving my teeth and write this.
i could guess i´ll be the one gonna get the glass guy couse my funny vacations on jungle..
love u mom:)