Johann Wolfgang Goethe

"Cuán insensato es el hombre que deja transcurrir el tiempo estérilmente."

Sunday, April 21, 2013


Sunday, April 14, 2013

Tú hiciste que mi fantasía se convirtiera en un artilugio de medusas contaminantes.
Creció en mí esa sensación de control, ese trasluz de seguridad que cubría mi sombra, deshaciendo poco a poco mi cuerpo; consumiéndome por dentro, quedándome en agua.

Quería ser la chia más guapa y más hermosa que jamás hubieras visto,
y así fue,
mi perdición,
me llevó a evadirme varias noches en el alcohol.

Jovencita, mírate bien,
eres un saco de huesos enamorado,
que no sabe dar amor.

Pasaron los meses,
y cada día más sola,
aunque siempre en compañía.

Dulce delgadez,
maldita sea,
ámate mujer.

Aquellas navidades lo cambiaron todo.
Una bocanada de aire,
sufrimiento continuo,
pero lo que "pica sana" o eso dicen.

Y ahora es cuando soy capaz de decir.
Quien te quiere de verdad, no te deja ir.

Amé, soñé, perdí.

Ahora es momento de vivir.
Porque las horas pasan y tú estás ahí,
tienes dos opciones,
quedarte parado o subirte.

En el letargo de mi pasado amargo,
dejo barridos los recuerdos,
que gratos fueron y otros no tanto.

FUCK PERFECTION.

Sigo con mi lucha,
desde Barcelona,
y cada día que pasa lo vivo al 200%,
aprecio los amaneceres,
saboreo los instantes,
y algo esencial: he cerrado el libro y al cerrarlo, ha ardido en miles de destellos de luces apagadas, por el tiempo que se quemó y no volverá.

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You made my fantasy became a jellyfish contraption pollutants.
Grew in me that sense of control, that security candles covering my shadow, slowly undoing my body, consuming me inside, staying in water.

He wanted to be the prettiest chia and more beautiful than ever have seen,
and so,
my downfall,
led me to avoid me several nights in alcohol.

Young lady, look good,
you love a bag of bones,
who can not give love.

Months passed,
and every single day,
but always in the company.

Sweet thinness
damn,
Women love yourself.

Those Christmases changed everything.
A breath of air,
continued suffering,
but what "sound bites" or so they say.

And now is when I can say.
Who really loves you, will not let go.

I loved, dreamed, I lost.

Now is time to live.
Because the hours pass and you're there,
You have two options,
stand there or jump.

In my past bitter lethargy,
let the memories swept,
they were pleasant and some not so.

FUCK PERFECTION.

I continue with my fight,
from Barcelona,
and each day that passes I live at 200%,
appreciate the sunrises,
savor the moments
and essential: I closed the book and when you close it, has burned thousands of flashing lights out, by the time it was burned and not return.


Monday, April 8, 2013




Latidos por minuto, sin aguantarse. Dame el ritmo. El minutero hace correr la pista. El latido en el cual se basan todos los latidos del mundo. El bpm del corazón...Escúchalo, es tu pista personal...Nunca dejes de bailar con él. A veces está detrás, a veces está frente a ti. Pero nunca dejes de soñar con nuevos sonidos. Lograr nuevos bit, nuevos ruidos de motor para mezclarlos con el caos que tienes dentro.

Hay que estar atento a lo que te rodea
porque a veces, de repente,
algo puede alegrar tu día
Esta que estás por escuchar no es una canción, es la voz
de la nieve derritiendose en agua pura.



Fuera de mi ventana sólo veo coches veloces, motos alocadas
que dejan el tráfico atrás.
He aprendido una pequeña verdad, el mundo te quiere rápido para que llegues a tiempo.
Te quiere veloz para recordar sólo el sonido de tu paso, y es por esto que cuando te acuerdas que no vas a ningún lado...ahí es cuando aceleras.


El ruido se convierte en sonido. El latido se convierte en ritmo.
Acelera la vida a toda velocidad y nunca dejes de hacer revoluciones.
La luna se vuelve el sol. La noche en el día. Porque detrás de cada persona se esconde otra.
Quizá más bella, quizá más nueva, quizás la tuya.


La vida real debería de dar más estímulos. 
Toma la música, quien hubiera pensado que algún día se registrarían cientos de canciones en un mp3. Nada los borrará de ahí, sólo necesitamos un láser, para darnos cuenta de que al menos algo es eterno, al menos dura más que nuestros gustos.

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Beats per minute without endure. Give me the beat. The minute track makes it run. The beat on which are based all the world beats. The bpm heart ... Listen, is your staff track ... never stop dancing with him. Sometimes behind, sometimes in front of you. But never stop dreaming with new sounds. Achieve new bit, new engine noises mixed with chaos you have inside.

You have to be aware of your surroundings
because sometimes, suddenly,
something can brighten your day
This you are about to hear is not a song, it is the voice
Snow melting in pure water.


Outside my window I only see fast cars, crazy bikes
leaving the traffic behind.
I've learned a little truth, the world loves you quick to be on time.
I want to fast to remember only the sound of your step, and that is why when you remember you're not going anywhere ... that's when you accelerate.


The sound becomes noise. The pulse rate becomes.
Accelerates life at full speed and never stop making revolutions.
The moon becomes the sun. The night in the day. Because behind every person hides another.
Perhaps more beautiful, perhaps newer, perhaps yours.


Real life should give more encouragement.
Take music, who would have thought that one day would be recorded hundreds of songs on an mp3. Nothing will delete them from there, we just need a laser, to realize that at least something is eternal, at least lasts longer than our tastes.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Lo que en un momento concreto nos parece perfecto, con el paso del tiempo, puede no serlo. Quizá entendamos que no era tan perfecto, y aunque lo hemos perdido, nadie dice que no podamos volver a encontrarlo, o incluso encontrar algo mejor.

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What at one particular moment seems perfect, with the passage of time, it may not. You may understand that it was not so perfect, and although we lost, nobody says that we can not find it again, or even find something better.

It's complicated


It is what it is 
I was only looking for a shortcut home 
But it's complicated 
So complicated 
Somewhere in this city is a road I know 
Where we could make it 
But maybe there's no making it now 

Too long we've been denying 
Now we're both tired of trying 
We hit a wall and we can't get over it 
Nothing to relive 
It's water under the bridge 
You said it, I get it 
I guess it is what it is 

I was only trying to bury the pain 
But I made you cry and I can't stop the crying 
Was only trying to save me 
But I lost you again 
Now there's only lying 
Wish I could say it's only me 

Too long we've been denying 
Now we're both tired of trying 
We hit a wall and we can't get over it 
Nothing to relive 
It's water under the bridge 
You said it, I get it 
I guess it is what it I 

Here it comes ready or not 
We both found out it's not how we thought 
That it would be, how it would be 
If the time could turn us around 
What once was lost may be found 
For you and me, for you and me 

Too long we've been denying 
Now we're both tired of trying 
We hit a wall and we can't get over it 
Nothing to relive 
It's water under the bridge 
You said it, I get it 
I guess it is what it is 

I was only looking for a shortcut home 
But it's complicated 
So complicated