31.12.11

I've tried in such peculiar ways...

Un hasta luego al D.F.

(goodbye not farewell)

14.11.11

"Still to come the worst part and you know it,
there is a numbness in your heart and it's growing"


2.11.11

18.9.11

Drawing airplanes

"Half moon in Mexico city, I think of you"

Last night I dreamed about a runaway on a jeweled elephant walking on wet asphalt. I felt a gypsy's breath over my face asking: Who cries a thousand lakes and gets drunk of tears? I don't know if I'm scared or tired of big cities and the people living in them; shining artifacts made irrelevant the answer. The wind blows wildly and I sing happy birthday. I'm not sure if I already woke up, I'm listening a wise German's words, all the songs, all the film dialogues.
I started smoking, the rain stopped...

28.8.11

You can blame the rain.

September is coming soon, violent pink skies and purple sunsets must be closer. Yes, I still take pictures of the clouds and I keep looking directly at the sun. It's hard to see this vanish like an August's shooting star. Sometimes I understand, sometimes I don't, sometimes I think I do, but who knows... it has become a beautiful maze, a great labyrinth. Our lies are amazing and I keep forgetting that this is not a different place; I forget that I'm gigantically tiny. Do you think that we don't belong to the air anymore? I really don't want to be the storyteller here. All the people is trying to be, just to be, they try harder everyday and don't realize that there are fireflies among them, it's heartless. I owe you the chaos and the tranquility; I owe you so much...
I know what I said about waiting, I didn't lie. I'm a short haired mermaid in the desert waiting for the water to fall down, that fascinating feeling of when you were the everything haunts me all the time.
You know better it wasn't a fugue, I miss reading Kerouac's novel on that bench outside your coffee shop, I miss brave that cold. It has been a loud silence now. "If this is what you're offering, I'll take the rain".

11.7.11

I S O L A T I O N

"I was central, I had control, I lost my head, I need this, I need this."

Well, I really don't care what Freud would think about me, I just don't have that gift. I've been dreaming the same old shit and I still want the doorbell scene. I kept wondering if it was or it will be the drunk, the bored, the curious or the grateful girl over there, but frankly, I don't give a fuck, I'm the kite flyer after all...

I do miss the ocean, the starry sky and the desert wind, here is only the deafening silence of an unstoppable summer rain. I see us now like one sees the fragmented sky through the trees. You were right, though: This is good. I heard the thunder last night, I'm not waiting. I know I remain everywhere.