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 :)