A dating manual for spirited young pursuers

Kim Piaget has become sort of my roommate in this blogging business. She prefers not to be involved in the process of posting or anything of that sort, but enjoys very much the writing process, and I believe has felt welcomed in this my little space. She wrote the next manual deriving from our long conversations on dating and the complex process that it requires you to endure, specially due to the social norms that in conveys. Hope you like it.


A dating manual for spirited young pursuers


The following manual is based on nothing but personal experience and a few recollections of cheesy lines. It does not intend to be entirely true, not even remotely instructional for the untrained eye. However, it may prove accurate for people as cynical as its author, who before writing it, understood that there was no possible way any of it would make sense.

1.- Impossible is nothing

People may want to set their luscious pupil on the untouchable person, the one who will always find one undesirable and even repulsive (In the better of cases, only unworthy of their time). Whenever one does this, make sure you fully engage in the process of slow death, while remaining slightly hopeful that a brushing of skin or the meeting of eyes may bring the minuscule sensation of relief to the unbearable agony of being in love.

2.- The somehow complicated love

Truth is that when two people love each other, time and space may meddle and pry to rearrange the possibilities of these two folks being together. To avoid dimensional crises and loss of memory, make sure:
a) You keep yourself either accompanied or in a relationship with a third party
b) You consider the possibility of “greener grass”
c) You play along the rules of a sick three people tango
d) You let go of the opportunity of your life while dumping the not-so-bad-could’ve-stayed-with-her alternative.
And keep always in mind the bad-timing.

3.- Unfathomable, plain love

It is sometimes easier to get involved in a relationship in which nothingness works as the foundation of feeling. Plain mechanical attraction and the lack of a better thing to do could bring to people together to work as one. In such cases, it is very recommendable to do as follows:
a) Consider the compliance of every social rule in existence regarding dating
b) Avoid remembering who you’re with by calling them “sweetie”, “love”, “honey”. This helps to spread numbness and fake affection.
c) Never wonder why you’re with whoever you’re with. It will make explanations too complicated. Deep is a no-go.

4.- Hold-fast

As sailors in a storm, the recalling of the saying Hold-fast is as valid as a knuckle punch to the mouth when it comes to tempestive relationships. Never doubt that you’re better off in bad company than alone when you lack the common sense to leave a relationship before it gets stormy. Tears are nothing compared to dry eyes right? At least they involve a bit of feeling and emotion.

5.- The “inexistent” love

Some people (clearly delusional), come to think that there is a chance of maintaining a non-agonic, pain-free relationship. The case though I only mention as a completion to the cosmology of love and as its mythical counterpart. It is so rare that there’s no actual indication as to how to proceed if the case is ever met.
It is also believed that this ontological precept of love is the one that encourages the previous four.

On how our paths will differ

How could I give you anything less than my all? How could I expect to receive what I'm not giving? Maybe it is the mundane thing to do, receive without giving, but there's a part of me that hates that one sided relationship more than it loves your attention. It is not in me to be by your side soaking in all that you give me, when I know deep inside me that i cannot do the same for you. Not now, not today. It is fine by me you may say, but i know you don't mean it. I rather split our roads now than take you down with me later on. Down to regrets and hurtfulness I hope you understand me, I hope I understand you. You told me Im nothing like the other people you've met, well this is me being that person. Im trying to do the right thing, trying not to hurt you in the process. Im sorry I cannot be like anyone else who would rather keep going and wreck it all in his path, Im sorry I have to be like this. I just hope you can look back and understand that I did care for you that day, that I stopped my words to avoid the hurt, that i looked away so I could save what little i had from you in my heart. And maybe, our paths will cross again and we'll understand that we did the right thing, that we had fun, that we tried to give it all, even though one of us failed.

The road to follow

What is to become of the man who stares down at the choice he must make or the path he must follow knowing that it will be the cause of a great pain. Is it worth more to hold our dearest comfort than to stand up for what we know to be true? to conform or to revolt? For such is mending a mistake, admitting you were wrong, following a path to righteousness, stepping out of the norm, refusing to give in to social standards or the expectations people have of us. But there is a beauty in our break down, a beauty in admitting our mistakes. I feel like a boy who admitted his wrong doing expecting punishment but instead he found a hand to lead him and teach him how to mend it. I've never felt so certain that my actions are being true to my beliefs, that my doing finally express my desired way of life. Conform less. Act a bit more awkward, see who cares. Now, its just me and my own long road, way back home.

Writing Experiment 3: Lost Boys

Lost Boys

Under the moon’s ebullient glow, come. Bring the souvenirs of hazard and the relics of the undertaking. Gather round and start to scream and howl. A bonfire of dancing stories and sung tales.

-Tell us, what was it like to overcome the beast? How long did your journey last?
How many undeserved wanderers did you deceive? And how was it that you got away from that trap?

-The rock was as sleek as a slide and the danger behind it laughable – a thick-brained two-sworded pillager- . It took me three seconds to decide –swoosh- and I plunged into a toboggan of darkness. The waters that received me were rowdy, the waves were fighting off the right to drown me, and in their baffle they failed to notice me dive and swim away, hand in hand with narwhal beasts and trident-carrying mermen.

Cheers and claps, barks and bellows, roars and hoots, yelps and yowls. All cries of victory. The accounts and memoirs of boys that have robbed time of its seasons, to celebrate under Night’s cover the sparkling joy of never-ending dreaming. Too bad it takes only one morning to clear out twilight and fog, and the sudden consciousness of a name to remember all that was lost as June wilted away.

-Kim

The Lost Boys and a lost boy

Down into the unknown the lost boys went once again
With nothing to lose and everything ahead
What mischief will they find? What treasure will they see?

The leader of the pack watched them from afar
Who are this kids that forever have laughed at age and its demise?
Who is this boy who dresses in green and fairy dust collects?
Where are these lost boys wandering again?

Pirates and mermaids both recognize his gracious flight
Jumping from cloud to cloud, dancing with the Indians at night
But at the end of the day the boy feels lost again
What could he be missing in his glorious life in his young young heart?

Once on a trip when he visited that place from where he came
He saw a girl telling stories to his sibling of pirates and young lost boys
What if a mother he could find for his loved companions and his own advice?
A mother or a wife, a thimble or a kiss, it appears at last the young boy grown has.

-Sam

Breathe

You forgot to breathe again didn't you?. It's so much fun to watch you stumble through words just to find you once again back at the same starting point. You ramble when you try to say something serious. I like that. It's as if your mouth is not big enough for your heart, not unlike others whose heart is not big enough for their mouths. I feel your heart pumping whenever I'm near, how do you hold it inside? We'll take it slow ok? Just remember to breath ok? Breathe.






She fixes her lipsstick,
They always look perfect.
Never a smudge line,
never too much.

I try on my blue shirt,
she told me she liked it...once.
She wonders what I'll wear.
She knows just what she'll wear.
She always wears blue.

So sneakers or flip-flops?
I'm starting to panic, wait wait
Remember she asked you,
remember to breathe.
And everything will be okay.

Writing Experiment Attempt No. 2

Just how many wheel turns make a journey? a journey that leaves enough tire tracks to get somewhere and back. is that journey enough to define a life? to think of all the dawns that will take that life to wake up and step up. But in the end, it is how many lives can a man live in order to be remembered by.

-Kim


"No wonder you're not going anywhere" said the mailman when, after third time this week, he saw me sitting in the porch with my bags ready and the image of a charismatic and dazzling young lady in a worn out greenish Polaroid picture. True three attempts in just one week seem as pretty determined person to leave his life behind, and yet still I hold on to my little side of the road, my little piece of the sidewalk, my little piece of comfort and familiarity. I'm happy here, willing to wait a bit more till I'm ready to go and embark on that never ending travel that once started, will never stop. Won't stop until I find myself once again in my little piece of land, little space of comfort i like to call love.

-Sam

The man I were, the man I am

I find myself once again drifting into other waters. Uncharted waters that make me self conscious about my life and my safety. I found something in a place i never even imagined to look for, i found a new definition of me not in my thoughts but in somebody else's. An amazing discovery for someone who thought nobody could define what he was/is/will be due to the fact that nobody ever cared closely enough to look for it, for him, for a deeper intention to define what I am to others. Yet there she came, with less than a mouthful of words defining what I am to her and thus defining what I can be to others. My eyes opened to realization, to a better understanding through those small, bright, cheerful, sunny eyes. I was scared of being Him, that person who is admired by his way of life, who stands for what others won't, who deserves what he gets, until I realized in a small and imperfect way I had become Him. Now I fear, I fear not being Him at all times, falling back into what others are and not what I am. Yet he wants to be me, be with me everyday, every time.

Shoreline

He opened the little note she left by the table near the door. "You make me feel small when you're near me". Her coat still laying in the sofa, her warmth still haunting it. He left without even refilling his precious coffee mug, without reading the regular morning headlines, without taking the soothing hot morning bath he worshiped. By the shore he found her, by the shore she cried. "You make me feel small when you're near me" she uttered under her cold visible breath, a tear to make her colder inside, to make the words pierce harder. "You make me feel big when you're near me" he finally opened without any fear of rejection, without any fear of deception.

If you want me to break down and give you the keys I can do that but I can’t let you leave.

The morning shoreline witnessed the purification of words, the final retraction of hurts, the forever mysterious way of redeeming love. It witnessed us.

It's About Time

Barcelona-It's about time

One more day down these stairs
His room is cold now and it hurts like hell
He holds tight, he stares
It’s almost over and it’s running through his head
They don’t know me, they don’t know more than I show

She’s walking up to him so slowly
It’s about time, it’s about time to fly away, but wait
This one is different cause she’s lonely
Fold your wings, you’ll need them more one day

One more smile, one more bed
Her eyes are dark now and they hurt like hell
She’s so still, she’s dead
She knows it’s over, she holds her head and says,
They can’t love me, they can’t love what I don’t show

He’s walking up to her so slowly
It’s about time, it’s about time to fly away, but wait
This one is different cause he’s lonely
Fold your wings, you’ll need them more

There’ve been to many times when I’ve drowned you with these perfect lines
And you’ve heard me say that I can cure you
This morning I woke up with this overwhelming fear of love
And I’m not sure if I can resurrect you

I’m walking up to you so slowly
It’s about time, it’s about time to fly away, but wait
I swear it’s different cause I’m lonely
Fold your wings, you’ll need them more one day

Lost Playground

This next text along with the last entry are part of a literary experiment if you will of taking one picture and writing about it. What came out we're totally different stories out of the same starting point.

With the last splash of a rememberance wave, One goes back to the sandy playground. -The playground on which the sun shone as brightly as the moon gleams tonight- Thought One. One realises that the salty air brings back memories of dirty hands and green-scraped knees; beacons of paradise lost.The high pitched giggles and cackles One can hear in the echoes made by the cold steel tubes, can only be matched in warmth by the loud pink sunsets that saw them run away into mornings of deep blue skies.One rose those mornings to be raised a man, and somehow, lost the hang of it along the way. One's core feelings have never been as intense as those gravity-defying sensations cartwheels and tumbles gave him, One reflects.Yet, One chose it to be so. Took the last plunge down from the slide. Not as much Them pushing as One letting go. Still, One knows, reminded as one is by the sway of the swings, that the only thing it takes to set things right, is a 360° turn around the world.

-Kim Piaget

Empty carousel, cold wet end.

She finnally gathered the strength to walk back. The town she was so familiar with, dissapeared in mere seconds. Houses full of ghosts migrated in, they filled the newly desert states and mansions. An aristocracy of living dead, washed away memories now paraded the streets in black cars and white carts. She walked through streets witnessing the desolation of a town sucked out of life into oblivion. The caroussel spinned away screeching out of desperation, out of lonliness, her tears answered with a bitter cry of their own. All her lives, all her loves, all her songs faded as she walked the lonliest mile she ever would traverse in this living life. She arrived at the peer. The sea raged with despair, flled with cries it stored, with tears it once soaked. She let it go, let herself go, let her memory go, let her cry go, let her life go. The waters soaked her in, caressed her white linen dress, forever embracing her into a life of tears, into a dance of fears. Forever lost, forever united with her lover, with her cold, wet, dying lover. The sea calmed. Finnally the deed done, over it was.

Let the stress begin

I've realized that i don't think i need you anymore. Constant self examination and wise advise from close friends has led me to believe i don't like you like you. I just like what you mean to me, I hope its true. I was obsessed over what we could be together, without first think if we could be together. Guess we can't. I don't want to pressure myself into something that is fruitless and empty. We can't even hold a conversation by ourselves for more than ten minutes. I remember we could, not anymore though. I'm at peace now, you go on ahead and idealize who ever you're infatuated about this time, guys 10000 miles from here never disappoint, until you have to meet them again. Hope you're right this time. I'm good now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens when i see you again. Hopefully nothing. Hopefully.

She comes into the kitchen with her usual morning stuck face. She didn't sleep well yesterday I could hear her all night moving around in bed. I prepared the cereal and the milk, she pours a bowl of cherrios, that's her favorite. She finishes her cereal and looks up to me trying to find my gaze over her. -Are you ok? did you sleep well? I say.-I had bad dreams again, she replies.-It's ok you're up now, trying too hard to make her feel ok, I really don't know how to deal with this.-Guess so. she answers. Do you wanna go to school today? you feeling alright? she gives me the look of a six year old who craves morning cartoons and staying in PJ's all morning. We can stay today i finally tell her.-No stress today?. No, no stress today baby.

Sometimes im child enough to scream

The Get Up Kids-My Apology

You'll be accepting my apology for taking things too seriously.
Sometimes I'm old enough to to keep routines,
sometimes I'm child enough to scream
for everything I broke in two,
You're barely missing me, I'm missing you and everything you do,
I really do, I really do, sure I do.

My once photographic memory for recollection's sake is failing me.
I can't remember for the life of me.

Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong,
Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong,
But we move on

Get a job where I can tell all of my accounts of someone else
I'm quick enough to judge that they were wrong and that we knew it all along
sing a long, long-winded song I would be content to hum along.

If I state that my fingers know where to show what everyone should have known,
I'll let it go.
Hopefully you'll forget that words that I put in print
my luck, you'll change and have strength enough to walk away

Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong.
Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong.
But we move on.
Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong.
Sometimes I can think to recite words that I read and rewrite,
my pens paint people that I've proven wrong.

Lakes of Canada

Watch and enjoy

In how our paths differ.

I seem to be closing in to a crossroads in my life. It terrifies me to know that whatever decision I make is going to affect the outcome of my life. No do overs. I'm scared. On top of that, even though I don't have to I constantly keep trying to choose the type of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I keep putting her in a box, trying to decide who she is, what she looks like, what she would do. I can't help it. It is bizarre how badly you can miss someone you've never met. She might be in front of you and you don't realize or she might be thousands of miles away from you and you feel her right next to you. Who ever that person is, think I'm ready to meet her. Hope she feels the same way.

You keep slipping away from my dreams, i keep trying to catch you, unsuccessfully. I'm so scared I might miss you, scared i might walk the other sidewalk and never meet you. Scared I might board the wrong train, dine at the wrong place, sing the wrong song, scared i might never meet you. If our paths are parallel roads how will we? It can't be. I feel you pulling me to you, feel you drawing closer, feel you near. Wait for my at your crossroads, I won't delay. I swear.

The New Amsterdams-Turn out the light.

There are taxis one might take. You know?

You don't have to ride in the car with me if you don't want to. There are taxis you know? Awkward silences seem to be the order of the day. Thank God for music. Filling in the missing conversation we so dreadfully avoid. From the first moment we met we have been amazingly succesful at talking about everything else but us. Here is what I want, i want peace. I can't have you coming into my toughts everytime you want, its annoying, but oh so nice. I tried to plan ahead, see what I wanted with my future, but you keep coming into my plans and expectations. Take your adorable child-like smile and go away. Or come, really close. Be welcomed into my toughts and longings, just dont have me in the middle. Either get in the car and enjoy the ride, or take a taxi by yourslef. Don't have me suffering your silences while you engage your mesmerizing sight with me. Please don't.

Music you should listen while reading this blog:
Tycho-The daydream

I have done things, seen things, known things.

I've met coward kings and self righteous tyrants
I've met brave field marshalls and heroes of might
But I've never met one like You.

I've seen people die at the kings heavy hand
But I've never seen a king die out of love for his people

I've seen gods punish men for mere entertainment
But I've never seen a god punish himself for men's mistakes

I've seen blood bieng spilled over child-like arguments
But I've never seen blood bieng spilled to save a child-like mankind

I've read of the great tales of old, the heroes and the villains
But I've never read of carpenters, fishermen or tax collectors

I've had my share of love in different faces and beds
But I never knew the kind of love that would save my soul and everyone else's

But then again, I've never met anyone like You.

Sunday Rain.

Every Sunday I seem to enter a state of total weariness. I believe its just the way my mind overloads after the whole week of stupid and senseless ramblings inside my head. This along with the constant and urging need to find someone who finds me at least somewhat a nice person to be around. I crave acceptance, but Im so selfish and self-centered, Im never content with whoever tries to come close to me. This in part I believe has to do with the fact that I never really seem to be accepted by who I wish to be close to.

All my relationships seem to be tragic, fatalistic and self-damaging. I wonder why I never had a normal relationship with someone. Whenever I find someone who seems to be slightly interested in, she is in a relationship, I arrived a month late, she just had long relationship thus not interested or lastly and the one I really hate the most because of its taunting way of saying you're doomed we end up living separated by thousands of miles. So i day dream of possible scenarios, i dream of these people, i dream of my life and how I want it to be, just to find myself exhausted after a long and longing nap for strength and maybe just a little more.

Im surrounded by people who I barely know, or barely let myself be known by. I may pass as an outgoing, easygoing fun person, but i seldom let anyone in. The irony in this is that the people i really open to seem to treat me like i treat everyone else. I try so hard to get some insight into their hearts and lives but they couldn't care less about my interest in them. Im a good friend they say. Good friend. So, I find myself looking once more for someone to share my life with, someone who wants to spend time with me just cause she likes to. Someone who does not need my constant search for conversation, someone who enjoys my silence as much as she enjoys my child like games and sillyness. Someone who would like to know if i drink coffee in the evening, if i like rain on sundays, if i like them. Oh i'd like that.

wordle

So i plugged in my blog into wordle.net which creates word clouds with texts and this is what came out:

You cried wolf

"You cried wolf
The tears they soaked your fur
The blood dripped from your fangs
You said, "What have I done?"
You loved that lamb
With every sinful bone
And there you wept alone
Your heart was so contrite"

Stranded in your sea

Im letting go.
I drift away just to see if you'll follow.
I drift away just to see if we follow the same current, the same tide.
I dont think we are, else why did i have to hold on?

Im letting go.
To catch a new current.
To follow my waves.
Just to see if at the end of the day im still stranded in your sea.

Stranded in your sea.

In your sea-The get up kids

Cause I'm waiting for you
And all you can do
So little to prove
Time is the test of trust
gets the best of us
For hours, for hours

Because I'm waiting for you
And all you can do
So little to prove
Nobody knew, it must have been you
I didn't approve
But someday I'll be free
And you'll wait for me
For hours, for ours

You would be so nice

I realized you exhaust me. You drain my strength and my will. I am drawn to you like a comet to an atomsphere. Still, i never seem to enter your world, your skies, your heavens. I never burn in your atmosphere I just pass by. I pass by, close enough for you to drain my everything. You exhaust me. Your irregular behaviour gets the best of me. You care one day, the next im not there. Im stuck, not sure where to follow. You tell me to walk i walk, you tell me to stop, I stop. Yet, Im terrified of telling you what goes on inside my big, fat, bloating and confused very confused heart. It aches so much, it's holding way too much back. If you could only show me where i can pour it out. That would be nice. You would be so nice.


Yet, it is you I waited for. Did you steal my dreams and made a life out of them? Why do you have to be so perfect, so full of everything I long for, everything I need. Did I tell you I dreamt about our son? Oh we named him after me, you asked me to. Did I tell you about our daughter? Oh we named her after you, I asked you to. Did I tell you I dreamt about our house? Did I tell you how happy you were? I didn't. Did I?. If I told you, would it change you? would you open?. You're so tightly shut, that small bursts of life you let shine through are enough to get me through the week. Yet, im terrified of you and your answers. Yet, it is you I waited for.

keyholes and keys, waiting the walk.

AGH lately I've been feeling as if something is missing in my life, I mean not in a bad way, im not depressed or anything just... like i said im missing something I've never had but I've always known where it goes. Like a keyhole waiting for the key, just there waiting. It does not define what the keyhole in the doornob is, I mean a doornob is still a doornob without the key but it knows what goes inside. Still I wait, it will come in the right time and I know that moment is closing in which makes it even harder to wait. Because I know that if i run and meet her in the way, we will cross each other paths lost until our paths cross again, which they will. So I wait or maybe I should be walking to meet her while she waits. Maybe just maybe we both need to wait, our paths will cross by themselves. I wait.


I walked into the room, you rushed by. Gold and silver floating in the air. I was petrified, scared, excited, intoxicated, mesmerized, I still am. You swept away my indiference, my fears, my dissapointments and replaced them with expectation and a feeling inside me I can only describe as longing. Longing for something I never had but always missed. It's as if my insides ask for the missing piece, and that's just it. You complete me in the most cheesy way you complete what I am, what I hoped, what i dreamt about. You visit my dreams so often, that you already have a duplicate key to my toughts. It's time to take the risky road and get to the thrill that awaits us. So, stop staring at me as if you don't know what you want and jump in.


So, let go,let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So, let go, l-let go
Just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's all right
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown


"What's the word that's burning in your heart?"

"Yeah, the ellipsis, it's dumb. It's dumb. It's an awful idea. I'm not gonna do it, okay? Cause like you said, this is it. This is life. And I'm in love with you... I think that's the only thing I've ever really been sure of in my entire life. And I'm really messed up right now, and I got a whole lot of stuff I have to work out, but I don't want to waste any more of my life without you in it. And I think I can do this. I mean, I want to. I have to, right? "



Garden State changed my life.

Scrapbook

He poured two cups of coffee and took some of the cookie leftover from thrusday's get together, sat down on the porch, remembered.

Loralai I did not cry
On the day we said goodbye.
The whole world did stop spinning for an hour.
I don't want you to know,
That I don't want you to go,
Because you've got my only set of keys.

It seems as if the more we remember, the more we forget. Creating a mental scrapbook makes us cut the edges of memories just to focus on the ones we wish to keep. It is strange how we sometimes cut too much, never to little. Other times, when we need more space for new memories we dont hesitate to rip the whole page. Im ready to make new scrapbooks, to make new pictures, to paint new covers. I know it hurts to rip those pages, but you'll get a new one. I promise.

Say

Say-Sleeping at last

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya80UbNgM1s

say what you really want to say
and the truest of forms will show
finallly youll find your soul

they impose the endless fight
to always be perfect
it seems they have been chosen
to be above the rest
but the contradiction stands
between these perfect lives
and the words that theyve misread
there was no reading

say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
and finally youll find your soul

the landscape of being
are endlessly competing, back and forth
for an answer to existance
that we can never find
in all of the places that weve searched out
in all of the pulses that weve takedn
there was no reading

say all the things that you really want to say
the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say
then youll find the truest of forms will show
and finally well find our souls

give us the answers
and give the ability to hear

the landscape of being
are endlessly competing, back and forth
for an answer to existance
that we can understand

perhaps were looking far too closely
we cant see
all the evidence in its entirety
the air in our lungs
the complexity of our love

say all the things that you really want to say
then youll find teh truest of forms will show
and finally youll find your soul
say all the things that you really want to say

say what you really want to say
and the truest of forms will show
finally youll find your soul

Puddles

Impossibilities are simple vain words when in contact with You. What we believe to be a challenge you look at is a mere puddles we can jump over. For us they may in fact be enormous walls or impossible battles, for You there are simply the course of life. It is when we trust in You and do things through You that we begin to understand things as You want us to. It is when we stand in your shoulders that oceans look like puddles and mountains like grains of sand. It is in You that we have the power to overcome, in You that we understand our purpose. In You we overcome.

The halls of the dead are cold
filled with misadventures, misfortunes and misfits
cryptic wind chills my bones
the exit is closed

The way is shut
and the dead keep it.

Bridges

What is this darkness that swallows us?
This nothingness that covers us?
This void that sucks us in?

When did we lose our crowns?
When did we reject our royal right?
When did our light die, our life dried?

As children of a broken creation
As children of fallen emperors
As brokeness of an eternal covenant

We stood near de chasm
We schemed to bring You down to us
To repair the broken link
To fill the empty sea

You built the towers
You threw the lanes
You placed the lumber
You built the bridge

Chasm no more
Void no more
Darkness no more
Nothingness no more

I am home.

The Killian Tide

Nuevo Banner:

You're my healer

You are my healer

Isaiah 53

1Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?2-6The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling, a scrubby plant in a parched field.There was nothing attractive about him, nothing to cause us to take a second look.He was looked down on and passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum.But the fact is, it was our pains he carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures.But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through his bruises we get healed.We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost. We've all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong, on him, on him.

Hillsong:Healer

You hold my every moment
You calm my raging seas
You walk with me through fire
And heal all my disease

I trust in You
I trust in You

I believe You're my Healer
I believe You are all I need
I believe You're my Portion
I believe You're more than enough for me
Jesus You're all I need

Nothing is impossible for You
Nothing is impossible for You
Nothing is impossible for You
You hold my world in Your hands

Vean esto http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4xsWldmqAo

Creaturas de lo eterno

Es dificil empezar a entender la realidad de lo que realmente nos sucede todos los dias si estamos sentados esperando que alguien no la explique. He encontrado que despues de 20 años de enseñanza nadie me ha podido dar una explicación digna de lo que significa nuestra existencia y el peso que puede tener en el curso en ocaciones inalterable de la vida diaria. La ironia de que los que una vez fueron la mayoria se convierten en la minoria, los que una vez juzgaron ahora son juzgados, los que una vez corrieron por sus vidas ahora lanzan la primera piedra me fascina y a la vez me da nauseas. Creo que debemos parar y bajarnos del tren para poder realmente analizar a donde nos llevan nuestras vias. Que trasendencia tiene que escribamos obras magnificas e impecables, que digamos discursos dignos de grabados en piedras eternas, que enseñemos generaciones enteras nuestros nuevos ideales si en realidad estos son tan transparentes y livianos como el viento. Así como ciudades magnificentes fueron reducidas a polvo, asi es como nuestros pensamientos pasaran al olvido como meras conjeturas de una realidad que creemos entender y conocer, pero que realmente nos rehusamos a querer entender y conocer. ¿Que significa lo eterno para nosotros? ¿Inemnsas rocas que estan plantadas en fuertes cimientos? ¿Ideas unviersales que nos llevan a trascender este mundo? ¿De donde viene nuestro entendimiento de lo eterno? ¿De lo que es inegable pero nos rehusamos a aceptarlo? ¿Que es esto que nos lleva a querer entender lo eterno sin empezar a conocer lo efimero y real antes? Lo inegable es que somos criaturas eternas, o creemos serlo sin realmente poder justificarlo. No conozco a nadie que este contento con desaparecer en el abismo y en la nada despues de terminar su vida. Quien quiere pasar de ser una persona con aspiraciones eternas a una inexistencia total donde al perder conocimiento nos desvanecemos en el olvido. Debe haber algo más que nos lleva a buscar nuestro final, a buscar lo eterno. Eso es nuestra naturaleza, asi fuimos creados, ha ser criaturas de lo eterno.

Primero que nada no se ni un bledo de puntuación, dos realmente no se que me llevo a escribir esto ni por que escribo tanto ultimamente, espero que tenga sentido o q puedan sacar algo de esto, no lo se jajaja. orale pues. chido.

All the things that you really wanna say

Inspirado por esto: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ya80UbNgM1s
y por un libro de CS Lewis que se llama The Great Divorce. Espero les guste (si es q realmente alguien lee esto, sino pues esto es para Ti).

As ghosts in abandoned cities
Roaming homes for the elderly and the lost
Searching for our souls in our shadows, in the gleaming light of the sun

All the places that we are searching
All the wrong places we look into
Just to find it
In front of us

All around us

Inside us

The air in our lungs
The complexity of our love
The forever reediming grace of the unseen
The neverending love in the creation
The light in our lives

We board this train
We run this race
Never tired
Never lost

Chesterton por ultima vez

Prometo que con esta cita termino mi citas de Chesteron:

" Lastly, this truth is yet again true in the case of the common modern attempts to diminish or to explain away the divinity of Christ. The thing may be true or not; that I shall deal with before I end. But if the divinity is true it is certainly terribly revolutionary. That a good man may have his back to the wall is no more than we knew already; but that God could have his back to the wall is a boastf or all insurgents for ever. Christianity is the only religion on earth that has felt that omnipotence made God incomplete. Christianity alone has felt that God, to be wholly God, must have been a rebel as well as a king. Alone of all creeds, Christianity has added courage to the virtues of the Creator. For the only courage worth calling courage must necessarily mean that the soul passes a breaking point--and does not break. In this indeed I approach a matter more dark and awful than itis easy to discuss; and I apologise in advance if any of my phrases fall wrong or seem irreverent touching a matter which the greatest saints and thinkers have justly feared to approach. But in that terrific tale of the Passion there is a distinct emotional suggestion that the author of all things (in some unthinkable way)went not only through agony, but through doubt. It is written,"Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." No; but the Lord thy God may tempt Himself; and it seems as if this was what happened in Gethsemane. In a garden Satan tempted man: and in a garden God tempted God. He passed in some superhuman manner through our human horrorof pessimism. When the world shook and the sun was wiped out of heaven,it was not at the crucifixion, but at the cry from the cross:the cry which confessed that God was forsaken of God. And now let the revolutionists choose a creed from all the creeds and a god from allthe gods of the world, carefully weighing all the gods of inevitable recurrence and of unalterable power. They will not find another god who has himself been in revolt. Nay, (the matter grows too difficultfor human speech,) but let the atheists themselves choose a god.They will find only one divinity who ever uttered their isolation;only one religion in which God seemed for an instant to bean atheist."

For God is wholly holy. And all things were made throught Christ for Christ.

The missing king

The worm sleeps, the lion creeps.
The sheep waits, the shepherd is missing.

So cast away your fears and face the blackness
The nothingness that swallows us
Our hearts that crumble.

For horror is nothing here
It is as common as the vultures that rumble throught the corpses
As mundane as blood in a battlefield

But courage is needed
It is needed
A soul that reaches a breaking point but endures
A soul that stands as light in a chasm
A soul that cries out to the fall.

The will of a king
The strength of a titan.

We need you.

Chestertons otra vez

Estuve leyendo Chestertons otra vez y pues tuve q poner esta cita:

Altruists, with thin,weak voices, denounce Christ as an egoist. Egoists (witheven thinner and weaker voices) denounce Him as an altruist.I n our present atmosphere such cavils are comprehensible enough. The love of a hero is more terrible than the hatred of a tyrant. The hatred of a hero is more generous than the love of a philanthropist. There is a huge and heroic sanity of which moderns can only collect the fragments. There is a giant of whom we see only the lopped arms and legs walking about. They have torn the soul of Christ into silly strips, labelled egoism and altruism, and they are equally puzzled by His insane magnificence and His insane meekness.They have parted His garments among them, and for His vesture they have cast lots; though the coat was without seam woven from the top throughout.

Y pa todos los q creen en la evolucion sin una direccion divina pues:

Evolution is a good example of that modern intelligence which,if it destroys anything, destroys itself. Evolution is either an innocent scientific description of how certain earthly things came about; or, if it is anything more than this, it is an attack upon thought itself. If evolution destroys anything, it does notdestroy religion but rationalism. If evolution simply means that a positive thing called an ape turned very slowly into a positivething called a man, then it is stingless for the most orthodox;for a personal God might just as well do things slowly as quickly,especially if, like the Christian God, he were outside time. But if it means anything more, it means that there is no suchthing as an ape to change, and no such thing as a man for himto change into. It means that there is no such thing as a thing.At best, there is only one thing, and that is a flux of everythingand anything. This is an attack not upon the faith, but upon the mind; you cannot think if there are no things to think about. You cannot think if you are not separate from the subject of thought. Descartes said, "I think; therefore I am." The philosophic evolutionist reverses and negatives the epigram. He says, "I am not; therefore Icannot think."

En fin.

Deeper into you

No se ni por q posteo esto pero pues ahi va:

/Deeper into you/

Deeper into you
your wind takes me
your current drags me

The more I fight it
the more it hurts
the more it burns.

Inside, your fire strong
show me the way into you
deeper into you

Into you current
your wind takes me
your light leads me

Deeper into you
like a castaway
with no boat or sail
your wind rescues me
your current leads me into salvation
just to find me deeper into you

The port where i sailed from
the sea I parted to
deeper into you
my everything.

// Y luego el poder de Godspeed you! Black Emperor:

The car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
And a dark wind blows
The government is corrupt
And we're on so many drugs
With the radio on and the curtains drawn

We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
And the machine is bleeding to death

The sun has fallen down
And the billboards are all leering
And the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

It went like this

The buildings tumbled in on themselves
Mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair

The skyline was beautiful on fire
All twisted metal stretching upwards
Everything washed in a thin orange haze I said,
"Kiss me, you're beautiful.

These are truly the last days"
You grabbed my hand and we fell into it
Like a daydream or a fever

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down
For sure it's the valley of death
I open up my wallet And it's full of blood

// Por último se lo saque a un amigo. De un autor q se llama Chestertons de su libro "Orthodoxy":

But the new rebel is a Sceptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind; and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it. Thus he writes one book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book (about the sex problem) in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician, he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then, as a philosopher, that all life is waste of time. A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie, and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble, and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts.In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite sceptic, is always engaged in undermining his own mines. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality; in his book on ethics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything.

Yo digo q que pesadez. Paz. Afuera.

Meteoro on crack y pesadez en acidos

Pues aqui tenemos otro dibujin (q Juan me pregunto q si le estaba haciendo al acido o q tranza pero pues supongo q el estres de finales y oir musica pro porducen procesos quimicos en mi q sacan debrayeses pesadas) tons es otra vez el black emperor....me gusto el personaje tons igual y le hago a hacer algo con el o quien sabe q tranza. En fin aqui esta.




Ne me, fui a ver Meteoro y me parecio una pesadez. ME vale madres que no les guste esta bien PIMP. AH! eso si no le hagan a comer nachos por q si pueden salir mareados. La sobresaturacion de colores me parecio excelente y sobre toda la parte del rally en campo traviesa esta excelsa se ve super bien y no manches me emocionaba cada vez que se oia el "uan uan uan" de las madres esas q lo hacen volar y se la vuelan con sus sequencias super pro con eso. Tambien cabe destacar q es una pelicula familiar (bueno a menos que haya un epileptico por q no creo q salga muy bien) tons pues no esperen aca sexo pesado ni mucha sangre ni batman inicia oscuro o q se yo. Pero en pocas palabras se situo muy bien en mi PIMP o Metro jajaja si asi le voy a decir. Ahi la ven.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Pues esto surgio de que Juan (ranayjuan.blogspot.com) me paso posrock jajaa y pues ahi venia unas rolas de Silver Mt. Zion (que estan asi super epicas) y luego pues la banda q tenian antes se llamaba Godspeed You! Black Emperor y pues con esa pesadez de epico pues salio esto:

En fin. Fui a ver Iron Man y esta muy pro. Acepto que la trama no es la mejor de todas pero esta muy realista y creo que la hiceron muy humana y agradable, y bueno el mugre traje esta super Pimp tons ya se armo. Pero bueno no se ni por que updateo esto jajaja. Tambien tengo un tipo super hipster jajaja noten el bigotito hipster la playera banda indie y los lentes hipster (q de seguro son de plastico pero cuestan como 1 200 pesos jajaaj a y el corte de pelo de a mordida de burro jajaja. Se les aprecia a la banda hipster nomas no se la vuelen y se sientan paridos por zeus.