y cómo acaban las historias

Era una tarde con esperanza, los doctores confiaban. Caminaba y por una galería musical encontre ese disco descatalogado por años de viejo. Lo compré, lo escuché: dulzón y nostálgico. 36 horas después mi mamá falleció. 

Así, The Sundays se hizo místico, fue el último disco que compré estando ella viva. Quizá estaba escrito en las estrellas. Ella que le gustaba escuchar música de sus discos LP, ella que me vio nacer un domingo. Años luego, The Sundays es un puente entre dos corazones soñando que resuenan y se cantan, cuando las historias se acaban.

¡Siempre extrañándote mamá!

Vogue

Ella y Él bailan juntos.

La danza sobre hielo es distinta al patinaje artístico, porque en la danza importa deslizarse, el ritmo y la conexión con la pareja.

whispers softly

There is, and I was part, of a gamification but of the desire and attraction that is developed and amplified by these dating apps. Straight or bi women connect with a cruel and shitty side, they do what they do and say what they say, because of the offer, and many men say yes to them or give them likes. All for all in a party of tomorrow.
It is not advisable to be part of these apps in a process where you do not find yourself strong enough to withstand rejection. it is important to understand that you enter to train and be part of this game, and acquire strength from the rudeness, charisma from the blow, and philosophy of the knife. 

real slow

Mon mémoire oublie beaucoup d'idées et de phrases, c'est une fragilité de la mémoire parce qu'elle veut me protéger de ne pas enregistrer le présent. C'est pourquoi j'oublie si fortement depuis 2022. Et je t'oublierai, j'oublierai le beau bleu, je ne me souviendrai pas de septembre et je ne me souviendrai pas de cette chambre du mercredi. J'oublierai enfin moi et j'oublierai que j'ai aimé chanter et tomber aux pieds de ta gracieuse danseuse.

beau quarante-deux!

prima camarada assoluta

el viento que forma las nubes
desviste sin partes que esconder nuestros nombres

atrayendo tu brillo de frágil corazón olé.

tus pies alados con tiempo y honestidad,

ya te llevaron cerca de la academia,

entrarás al fin, sí

¡feliz 29, día de la danza! tu danza, danza promesa.

a song for a gothic

I want to tell you Comrade Karrartev that there is a song in Japanese called A million miles away, which since January 2022 I have found and dedicated to you. It is since then on a binary journey through messages from others, conversations with new people, and links that someone will send you influenced by my unconscious command. I don't know how long it will take to reach you, but I pray that it will come to you and that you will know in some mystical way that I sent it to you. It was my farewell, my last love letter that inspired the last words I have written to you. 
Forever and ever.
lalalalalalala lalalalalalalalala

fool understand

Through the streets of Lima raining, I walk with a sound
I am a place with a flood of water, full of poems
to go out and give me as a gift,
I'm behind you without knowing what to call you
wicked sorceress of the time of desires and nostalgia
and I cross curves of a dreary world
unaware that I loved you even though 

I only told you that I liked you.
You make me burst with your light, dancing angel
I become a prisoner of the stopped clouds and the supernova heat
I'm a carbon footprint in the dangerous terrain of your moles
two full moons around your lips, a beautiful abyss of flesh

I am a foolish auction of love's rules,

the real truth, is parts of me bear your footprints of sounds and lights, 

today with infinite sadness and much power

I'm a Barbie girl, in a vampire world.

Berlin wall

I think of the exact point where I could be more human. I remember this bromance between two Hollywood actor pals, named Keanu and River, uneducated beings who defended nature, cats, and the kind and simple life. an example of the beauty of union in the face of the unpredictable ups and downs of living on a planet of chaos. A magical coincidence to counteract the impact of my fragility, like sentimental dreams between robots and malice. 

oh how much you can stay!

come back, come back, and give me that hug I'm waiting for so long!

the chemicals that constitute me. the chemistry that lies within me. they are both the magnet I possess between the appearance of sweet dreams and regenerative chocolate. 

like a hope, born of a child who wanted to understand the world, who wanted to meet someone and know so much about her and everything, but failed. I failed. in the midst of the astral strike. and I am left with the treasure of dreaming of you or thinking of you in silence, and watching the sky sounding like music. thinking that there is a shirt that can represent a beach, a pair of pants a Parisian park at night. a hat that is morning light in a hotel room that was paradise in the dawn hours.

I will love you, but I will never speak to you again!
I feel if I am strong enough. dream magic.

How much I pray that even if you never come back, you feel these words, and this energy comes.

I will love you, but I never speak to you again!

I feel that if I really belong. dream magic. 

They say it's 7 years you will carry my energy, there are 6 left until it dissolves me. with all the eternal love, seconds, and dreamlike ether. Gods of love, I believed them, I felt it. I met love, though she rejected me. Young comrade, under the sky of Russia and Japan.

guiding forever

On the mountain full of gemstones I could see the poverty of my bones, the skinniness of my fingers, and the uncomfortable gap between my skin and his jewels. Mounted convinced, invincible of yellow days and a puncture in my temples. From my cheeks I heard the whine enunciated by my lonely face, rising up my hunched neck. Oh curvature of discs and spine of this strong and movable neck that supports me. 

I sensed the death of my spirit, but also the old age of being chained to a destiny of stones upon tides. Like the weather at the end of the month, there is a lot of fun music but also space for solitude. 

The call for a new beginning for the morning after, the closing eclipse of this 31st night. 

Ghosts over Genesis of all the choices we made.

Enough for the spirit of the skies that is wide, like blue solitude, and the place of tears in silver bubbles. For the steel rings and colored stones I wear, it is but a ritual. That I must weave to win and live on.

In all directions I begin and end, I come and go.

I am Russian superstition, the sale of a red bear, who wears jewelry and weapons, and who in the steppe feels a subtle headache while eating pizza and watching the sky of auroras.
State of peace. I am the destiny of a white hand, small and mystical. I believe in stars and angels, in stones and gamma rays. I am Russian superstition.

Nothing hurts like you

The day I die, nobody came, what a shame. 
I'm waiting to feel alright, dancing with tears in my eyes, dancing at my funeral.

like others' crazy design, cymatics of my heart, your vibration, oh you, oscillating skin

push the air of my shine

inside you, get out of my eyes.

Cymatics from my game, you choose spades, I prefer hearts.

resonance of that precious moment, it was you, always you

I tried to forget you, pardon the voices in my head 

keen kisses behind you, under me,

guide me to sleep in the memories of oblivion, miss.

Mariposa K

I proclaimed you my wife in a phone call, it was a bit rushed, like a heatwave, but in the middle of November, I could afford to finger the future with your hands and that silver ring you wear, even though you had already told me not to. I believed, I proclaimed. The power of the voice, the power of thought. 
What happened in the next 24 hours, will remain in the privacy of the heavens inside a room.
I spare the long, tangled details, the music of dark tones, like those gothic and perreadoras songs you love, but two months later the dismal end has already materialized.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
Staring at the sky as I drive, and a sad Beck song plays.
I think today of all the behaviors and mistakes that led from that high point of our intimacy to this immense ocean that today distances us and will not go away.
Because you told me enough, and that you don't want to have contact of any kind with me,
I became the bad guy in your story and our story.
Although I don't know why, maybe it's the planetary arrogance, that tells me that in March or April there maybe that unexpected miracle or blessing.
But I am adamant, today more than ever, I must work on my behavior, my mistakes, my particular way of ruining myself in relationships and I want, I decide, to be alone.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
It's a road of ups and downs. I loved you like nobody else, and I drove me crazy for you, it's true. But as the good Jung says: "It is not possible to awaken to consciousness without pain. People are capable of doing anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own soul. No one becomes enlightened by fantasizing figures of light, but by making his darkness conscious."
I am very dark, maybe that's the real reason why my mother calls me black.

Oh, mom!!, that story is harder, but that will be for another time.

Kissing you infected

I have an engine where my voice has glances for what is to come, I want to grasp the future where my vital song pretends to be a dance I offer you to cut the distance, and it moves like the flame of your two-syllable name. Time caught in breaths, moving the sound, facing to love, and seeking to be loved back. It costs a lot to say the verb to love, but perhaps the will of my emotions deserves to be helped by charity and mercy.

You know, this Thursday 28th I made a bet because I had many childish doubts. In a moment I could do as I always do, retrace my steps and keep myself in my familiar zone. But with the uncertainty of being under the silence, uncaused for all intents and purposes, and hidden among the bits and waves of electric space, I chose the movement of going near you to manifest. I traveled to a bench on the Residencial, in the dark heat of a night, at half-past nine o'clock. A straight pedestrian walkway, lights on round lampposts, many walking their pets. And I rained. I delivered with a great desire my honesty. I told you, little comrade, that you were a surprise of the fate of all my hearts because in a week you had led me to the temptation to dream the future, to imagine the light of day as a consequence of your smile, and that my ocean of life was asking your permission to bite you and kiss you. In the rarity of being lined paper with a grid, this city of rivers is the frame for you guapa infinita.

And my voice concludes that everything I did and everything to come is a contagion of loving and being loved. I heard you sincere, we are both in different spaces, you smile but you must rebuild, I seem ready, so, it won't happen today or soon. And a list of words behind words appears.

What do I have to tell you?

These are strange times, where immaterial socialism brings me a wild-haired comrade. And I rain to sprout as nature and life. I rain being me and for me, come what may, I'm on a great pinnacle to live, maybe I always have been. And loneliness is natural and a good song.

sacrificios

Los sacrificios solo tienen  sentido cuando son sagrados, y tienes la conciencia de que con ese acto estas cumpliendo una función que dejará un legado, algo sobre ti que cambiará el mundo.