27.7.10

Pañuelito de gasa rosa, ugh.

No debería pensar, no debería pensar. ¿Será acaso que la ilusión mata la posibilidad?
A mí nadie me va a usar, porque llevo mi inutilidad con orgullo; no tengo por qué serle útil a nadie.
Estoy cansada de esta vida insípida y confusa, llena de luces que se prenden, se alejan o se apagan sin dar explicaciones.




No heart is mine to conquer, no heart is mine to break.

24.7.10

Sad Eyes.

You fade away, that's all you've ever done since the very beginning of it all. But you never disappeared, you will never fade away completely. There are some things I could never forget;
Your smile.
Your eyes.
His eyes, his eyes are so pure, so sad.
I can't forget him either, he gave me a piece of what I wanted from you, yet I'm not sure enough...
Stupid heart of mine, we aliens shouldn't have a heart.
I'm such a fool.

Sometimes I hate you so badly because I want you back.

22.7.10

Disintegration.

Oh, I miss the kiss of treachery,
The shameless kiss of vanity,
The soft and the black and the velvety
Up tight against the side of me.
And mouth and eyes and heart all bleed
And run in thickening streams of greed.
As bit by bit it starts the need
To just let go
My party piece.

Oh I miss the kiss of treachery,
The aching kiss before I feed,
The stench of a love for a younger meat
And the sound that it makes
When it cuts in deep.
The holding up on bended knees,
The addiction of duplicities,
As bit by bit it starts the need
To just let go
My party piece.

But I never said I would stay to the end
So I leave you with babies and hoping for frequency,
Screaming like this in the hope of the secrecy,
Screaming me over and over and over.
I leave you with photographs,
Pictures of trickery,
Stains on the carpet and
Stains on the scenery.
Songs about happiness murmured in dreams
When we both us knew
How the ending would be.

So it's all come back round to breaking apart again,
Breaking apart like I'm made up of glass again,
Making it up behind my back again,
Holding my breath for the fear of sleep again,
Holding it up behind my head again,
Cut in deep to the heart of the bone again,
Round and round and round.
And it's coming apart again
Over and over and over.

Now that I know that I'm breaking to pieces,
I'll pull out my heart
And I'll feed it to anyone.

Crying for sympathy,
Crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd
And the three cheers from everyone.
Dropping through sky,
Through the glass of the roof,
Through the roof of your mouth,
Through the mouth of your eye,
Through the eye of the needle.
It's easier for me to get closer to heaven
Than ever feel whole again.


I never said I would stay to the end,
I knew I would leave you with babies and everything.
Screaming like this in the hole of sincerity,
Screaming me over and over and over.
I leave you with photographs,
Pictures of trickery,
Stains on the carpet and
Stains on the memory.
Songs about happiness murmured in dreams
When we both of us knew
How the end always is.

How the end always is.


The Cure.

19.7.10

Orgullo y Desvalorización: "Los terrícolas me aburren y me lastiman. Estoy harta."

Me siento como un adorno que no adorna, como esos que uno al verlos se pregunta "¿Para qué gastar en esta... cosa?", porque no cumple siquiera con su fin puramente estético, porque es enorme y grotesco, y no hace más que resultar incómodo y molesto.
Estas son las cosas que uno piensa cuando nadie lo quiere como necesita que lo quieran; no soy indispensable en ninguna vida cercana de la forma en que quiero serlo.
La realidad es que no me conformo con el ronrroneo de mi gato. Pe y Eme son un tema aparte, para ellos soy sólo una responsabilidad que debe responder a órdenes, responsabilidades y algún que otro estímulo.
Entonces, Rosie*, te pregunto: ¿Cómo podría dejar de autodesvalorizarme si nadie se preocupa por demostrarme que tengo valor alguno? Los terrícolas me hicieron caer en la cuenta de tal cosa a partir de la simple conclusión estadística a la que llegué mediante la apreciación de comportamientos que se repiten en ellos para conmigo.
Con esto empiezo a ver que sigo sin encontrar mi lugar, es por eso que solamente pido poder volver a Marte, porque no debería soñar con alguien que me ame dado que ya aprendí lo frustrante que es pedirle peras a los malditos olmos.




*Rosa Schenkel, mi queridísima analista.

15.7.10

Dans les fleurs


I'm a dancer

Met a dancer
Who was high in a field
From her movement
Caught my breath on my way home
Couldn't stop that spinning force I felt in me,
Everything around seemed to giggle glee
She walked up with a flower and I cared

Found a dancer
Who gets wild to the beats
of record rhythm
But I'm always away for weeks that pass slow
My mind gets lost
Feeling envy for the kid who'll dance despite anything
I walk out in the flowers, and feel better

If I could just leave my body for the night,
Then we could be dancing
No more missing you while I'm gone
There we could be dancing,
And you'd smile and say, "I like this song"
And when our eyes will meet there
We will recognize nothing's wrong
And I wouldn't feel so selfish
I won't be this way very long

To hold you in time
To hold you in time
To hold you in time
To hold you in time

While we were dancing
Early hours
Drunken days finally ended
And the streets turned for a pillowcase
Then I fumbled our good lock
Then the ecstasy turns to rising light
Through our windowpane
Now I'm gone
I left flowers for you there


Animal Collective.


fait maintenant c'est partie de moi.