||| July 2002 ||| August 2002 ||| October 2002 ||| November 2002 ||| December 2002 ||| January 2003 |||
||| February 2003 ||| March 2003 ||| April 2003 ||| May 2003 ||| June 2003 ||| July 2003 |||
||| August 2003 ||| September 2003 ||| October 2003 ||| November 2003 ||| December 2003 ||| January 2004 |||
||| February 2004 ||| April 2004 ||| June 2004 ||| July 2004 ||| August 2004 ||| October 2004 |||
||| November 2004 ||| December 2004 ||| January 2005 ||| February 2005 ||| March 2005 ||| June 2005 |||
||| July 2005 ||| August 2005 ||| September 2005 ||| November 2005 ||| December 2005 ||| May 2006 |||
||| July 2006 ||| October 2006 ||| November 2006 ||| January 2007 ||| May 2008 ||| April 2010 |||
||| June 2011 |||


i am one again. it seems that a part of me never left, and stayed here, in pain, missing itself. i am back. my left support casts a shadow, a moon shadow, a distant horse fights with it's already heavy load. the stars. never seen the stars in the city so clearly as tonite. the moon, trying to overcome the clearness of the night. futile attempt, hopefully. another horse, but this time it carries anyhting but hope. the night is awaken. the city is not sleeping. it's the first time in a long time i come back this early, satisfied, but empty. orion, my guide, my alibi, my stars. by foot the city was broken in. noone there, nobody here, everything but crowds.and i am back, with the parfume of croaissants in the air, with the moon casting the shadows of my fingers over the matrix of symbols that never fade. and not to be forgotten, my bagatelle is here. tired. planes i hate too much. and i recall the time you made me feel like this, the peace , the satisfaction, the completeness. i am there again, with my carryall heart. i hit my head against the back wall. this is not an exit. and in such a clear sky i see no shooting stars. the explanation is simple. my shooting star is starring her own story right now.

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i can't hold the sensation. i can't hold the resonance in me. its complexity overwelms my capacity. your persistance is my obsession. by letting go, you were really here. you still are. i can't tell where the dreams ended and reality began, and i don't want to find out.

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so you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue sky from pain. i really do. i can even show you how. find your motivation. be real. be honest. express yourself. break that barrier. do it without any further purpose than to radiate your energy. just put your thoughts through. do you know the difference between being beautifull and lovely? it's you.

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soft. like velvet. softer. the tips of my fingers flying just above, amazed by your shape, trying to find a place to land. your skin is the materialization of your charm.

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i need to remember this. three consecutive rounds. nothing much to say about the first one. my angel was there in the second, red, aching. my hope, it was just physical. the vision shocked my networks and the overflow poured into an invincible smile. a must tell. posture. stupid posture. faking ignorance to hide the emotions under the shield it casts. but she penetrated it. then i could breathe. she sent a sign, but it never went through the walls of digital divide. my right shoulder was her pillow for an instant of tenderness that was followed by the everlasting saddness of her eyes. the magic floated in the toxic clouds until pain made it die. cant tell if posture or rightness prevented me from walking her home. hurts anyway. the third is already stated here. the missing details i can forget.

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sun. open your eyes. no need. forgot to close them last night. what kept me awake is gone. what shouldn't have let me fall asleep is back. turn off the lamp. no need for it anymore, hours ago. just text this.

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rain in my roof. the sun never came into my room, but it must be shinning on someone else's. i can still feel the heat. the rays you projected enlightened my hope. you exist. you are somewhere, hidden, waiting. left your cave and came out, stoned. will you remember me? incense brought you, and it showed me which string to pull. plastic bags in trees, amelie, waves that don't want to leave and my answer was the same your father gave you. in a puzzled mind a treasure found and lost. what you gave me can fill my void for an eternity, but only knowing that in this eternity lies our crossroad. your outline is already gone. just gestures remain. your posture. your smile. the shaking of your head with your eyes drowning in the grass when trying to make your point. just one sad feeling: anxiety. finding you again is just in the hands of fate. rain stopped in my roof. now, it's in my eyes.

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difficult enough but inspiring. challenges. all could be so much easier, but i don't want it that way. lazy all the time, my shortest path devotion covers everything but emotions.

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||| bitácoras amigas |||

mutatis mutandis
bitácora beduina
lo del perro