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.