you dont rehearse for love, you just do it.

its hard to choose what you want in life.
life changes, one moment u think of something, and then its too late, theres something else.
on a friday afternoon, i was looking into the life of a musician. he was still alive, i thought he died of an overdose. i am happy he is alive. his last ´album is conceptual and tells the story of The Solutionists, a collaboration of visionaries who aspire to solve the world’s environmental problems through the arts. If it all sounds a bit heavy then don’t panic... hilarious.
there is just no end to human imagination.

meeting a girlfriend by night is a strange thing. it feels like a movie you ve seen, or a moment you thought about. it is not often you get in touch, that you find chemistry. so basic. its not about how beautiful she is, nor about how impressive she can be, its about chemistry, very basic, very animalistic. and when you dont feel or find that, its like sitting in between planets of different colors and wondering what you are doing there.

i need the sea. my soul craved for space and loneliness. something must be unregulated inside myself; there seems to be not enough room out here for my soul, always more, i may end up in space at this rate. funny, if a condition to be astronaut would be the need for mega spaces... id fit right in.

A little translation:

Mascotas, (Porno for Pyros)

Los niños son como, inocentes
Los adolescentes, rayados de la cabeza
Los adultos aun más dañados
Y nuestros abuelos, como niños

Habrá otra especie
Que pueda tomar nuestro relevo
Podría ser que los martianos,
Lo logren mejor que nosotros.

Seriamos mascotas perfectas!
Seriamos mascotas perfectas!

Mi amigo dice que somos como dinosaurios
Solo que nosotros nos devoramos
Mucho más rápido
Que ellos jamás lo hicieron

Seriamos mascotas perfectas!
Seriamos mascotas perfectas!

stangely i met a woman that captured my essence in record time,
she made me run away.
strangely she showed me her scars, and i showed her mine,
i wasnt impressed.
she shed a tear on me, i was thinking, its time to go cause´
need to shower my soul.
now im back in my sand box, playing a tune or two,
for you.

a day in the life of a farmer.


He starts his day early contrary to what he was used to. after waking, he takes his time to shower, dress, and watch the news. he doesnt like to hear about the local news, he prefers to see international news and not just any, preferable financial news. he knows by now half of the financial news are lies and the other half, old. the common man still has no idea about it until he realizes his gas tank will cost him more than usual.
he sometimes decides on some exercise in the mornings but lately he has lost will for it. once the clock has awaken, and his housemaid arrived, he orders his breakfast. the usual is coffee, but prepared: it will be mixed, sugared and at drinkable temperature. he still gets a spoon just in case. he normally avoids having more than coffee, but today a little hunger has him asking for eggs, toasts, and pancakes. naturally while he waits for his order, the farmer is online reading the life of other people, and mingling with idle thoughts on life.

he doesnt like to be disturbed by morning, it is part of his caracter since youth. in fact there are many things he cannot stand, which explain his too often moon swings. now he tries to control them by taking little short breaths, might i add, doesnt work well. after having breakfast, he decides to take a walk through his plantations... walks down the stairs, choosing the boots to wear. he likes boots, has his everyday boots -plastic- which he bought in switzerland, there are also his ranger walking boots, and a couple of leather riding boots... then his sunglasses, sunlight hurts his eyes and head. other than his boot collection, he also has a hat collection from american caps he collected during his journeys to hand made panama hats. today he will go along with his camouflage cap which gives him his often wanted military allure.

after he opens his bank vault door, which he built to protect himself from the outside world... he opens a second gate, all part of his scheme to protect his home. he never understood modern architects leaving the house so open to insecurity and danger.

the farmer likes mecanics, modern marvels, to which he has a selection of engines to choose from to go about his day; a remodeled jeep which took him over a year to redo and a few thousand to pay until the very last door knob... next to it another motorcycle he has recently acquired and rebuilt. today he chooses his new toyota suv. he prefers the confort and its cd player which allows him to listen to Janes addiction. he was called a lord by his ex spouse... -who would understand but himself.

most people couldnt define him so easily, and worst understand him... it seemed his world was an easy life, but in fact behind his confortable lifestyle, there was a magical way to how he did things, he made the hard look simple. there are two ways to do things in life, the easy or the hard way.

which would you choose?

Whispers frighten by winds, mixing my faith.
Dim times again to share, these mild memories
One cannot erase, but flee from them, errand knight
We, who can’t dream, need wisdom’s might

A stranger’s eye shared by a common veil
A sneak preview into her broken mirror, so pale
One cannot describe, only flavor the oath
Now I remain swamped, shattered, closed.

My age old pamphlet can no longer spell
Though with care I’ve mingled the Ustrels
Dark and invisible citadel shelter my state
Why instruct the inevitable flow of fate

A gentle tear on a paper wall, two rats on the hurry
And a constellation to be understood, pain I carry.
Centuries I’ve gathered for an ultimate feast
Under arcades of middle aged stones
That old ville, maybe time I head east.
Always west, there’s nothing to moan anymore.

All I mean, gentle symphony, its maybe time to resume.
Take a ride, on my own, feel the infinite wisdom
Time to feel there’s more than to hear you say
And more to do that to sit and wait for endplay.

Children are innocent
A teenager's fucked up in the head
Adults are even more fucked up
And elderlies are like children
Will there be another race
To come along and take over for us?
Maybe martians could do
Better than we've done

We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!
We'll make great pets!

My friend says we're like the dinosaurs
Only we are doing ourselves in
Much faster than they Ever did

We'll make great pets!

Pets, by Porno for Pyros

the body is all we have at the final hour when the bell rings, and the night befalls on our souls..

there are many things on my mind these days, which make me unable to sleep. its like ive been awaken from a long meaningful dream to have to confront the world again. yes, this world which keeps on its course to collision. listening to cure´s cats are grey, on a repetitive sequence, remembering something of my past... i cant fully grasp nor identify.

and now you... probably the only blood saken friend id encountered in these lands, readin my lines. ironic how i once condemned you, and now you can condemn me and yet we seem to share many likes as brothers lost in time and space.
ive always left myself out, the real me, playing a game and playing a shade. the truth is ive never wanted to be disturbed by anyone, and for long periods of my life, i wanted to live as a ghost on the boundaries of life. these boundaries that marked my life as a spectator sitting in a theater and watching the world change from one country to the next. how could i not become a spectator, it was all so surprising, so changing, so curious and so confusing. there were no subtitles other than the thoughts that arouse in you as one grew older and eyes could catch the meaningful things of that period. i never grew on the same pace than those of my contemporaries, maybe a little delayed or more wise, either way, i always felt as walking thru the boundaries of life like tiptoes on a scenery, detached-.

i often feel like a forsaken vampire. finding ways to sleep thru years and then suddenly awakening to taste life again. searching for love, and for new feelings, searching in new places and in different ways... a mockery. i say so to myself because after all, if id reveal all my truth, i surely be condemned as moliere´s hero for injurating hell and heaven, even love. anyways ive always found life to be highly critical, and much of its pleasures, petty.

¨Considero -dijo Schwab- que el mayor bien que poseo es mi capacidad para despertar entusiasmo entre los hombres, y que la forma de desarrollar lo mejor que hay en el hombre es por medio del aprecio y el aliento. "Nada hay que mate tanto las ambiciones de una persona como las críticas de sus superiores. Yo jamás critico a nadie. Creo que se debe dar a una persona un incentivo para que trabaje. Por eso siempre estoy deseoso de ensalzar, pero soy remiso para encontrar defectos. Si algo me gusta, soy caluroso en mi aprobación y generoso en mis elogios."