Love Story
l tir de la correa de su bolso. Fuerte. Un tirn seco. Violento. En medio del paso de cebra. Ella abri la boca como para gritar. Pero de su boca no sali ningn sonido.
Haca ya tiempo que la presencia del otro empezaba a ser una carga. Cuando estaban juntos siempre estaban cansados. La cama, no, -peor- el sof frente a la televisin,...
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l tir de la correa de su bolso. Fuerte. Un tirn seco. Violento. En medio del paso de cebra. Ella abri la boca como para gritar. Pero de su boca no sali ningn sonido.
Haca ya tiempo que la presencia del otro empezaba a ser una carga. Cuando estaban juntos siempre estaban cansados. La cama, no, -peor- el sof frente a la televisin,...
Read More
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
revelation:
A ver si posteas ms, q nos tienes abandonados 
jellysuisse:
ya te digo, junio 2008... hasta le dio tiempo a un seor negro de llegar a la casa blanca... lo que habr llovido seor jazz
liv:
comentario absurdo pero cierto: yo me descargu hace aos unas canciones de un tal peter punk en el soulseek
theres no teams just different gamers
happy birthday mr Pan
theres no teams just different gamers
happy birthday mr Pan
megara:
ey zorionak!
ke no kai k era tu kumple
el mio en breve...
ke no kai k era tu kumple
el mio en breve...
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
lolicon:
hola... primero de todo tu texto me a llegado, quizs porque ahora estoy en un momento que leer esto me hace sentir casi protagonista, pero perdoname..
segundo gracias por tu precioso comentario y los nimos, ya estoy mucho mejor
un besito
segundo gracias por tu precioso comentario y los nimos, ya estoy mucho mejor
un besito
revelation:
Eso es verdad, a respirar se aprende llorando... y a base de tortas.
Fall
I shouted her to dress up, to leave my place. But she wasn't already there. Suddenly I understood. I opened the door and I jumped down the stairs. Every floor I went down looked exactly like the floor before. I cannot say how long I was climbing down. Or if I was climbing up. At the end, the street hit me. People stuck to...
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I shouted her to dress up, to leave my place. But she wasn't already there. Suddenly I understood. I opened the door and I jumped down the stairs. Every floor I went down looked exactly like the floor before. I cannot say how long I was climbing down. Or if I was climbing up. At the end, the street hit me. People stuck to...
Read More
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
liv:
me jode que el comentario que te haba dejado no se haya guardado...
vamos a ver...deca algo as como que leer esto me ha recordado a la sensacin de cuando te vas a caer de la cama pero de hecho dndose uno de bruces contra el suelo... a veces solo necesitamos darnos de bruces contra algo para verlo claro y ni aun con esas a veces se consigue
vamos a ver...deca algo as como que leer esto me ha recordado a la sensacin de cuando te vas a caer de la cama pero de hecho dndose uno de bruces contra el suelo... a veces solo necesitamos darnos de bruces contra algo para verlo claro y ni aun con esas a veces se consigue
lulita:
escribes bien, pero es todo taaaaaaaan melancolico/triste/negro, sera que ultimamente lo veo todo rojo!!! ( es que el rosa no me gusta...)
Sadness (English Version)
I'm quitting Sadness. Of course, it's hard. Sadness dealers already know me, and they sell me on credit. And all my friends are up to the neck into sadness. Are you asking how I started? Like everyone else. I was 15 or 16 years old. At that age we all think that we're immortal. Invincible. So I dared to smoke a joint...
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I'm quitting Sadness. Of course, it's hard. Sadness dealers already know me, and they sell me on credit. And all my friends are up to the neck into sadness. Are you asking how I started? Like everyone else. I was 15 or 16 years old. At that age we all think that we're immortal. Invincible. So I dared to smoke a joint...
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liv:
es el arte de amargarse la vida 
Luis Oscar's
Luis Oscar is a name that only could be worn by the main character of a Southamerican Soup-Opera. But it is also a weird After-Hours in La Corua. I came back from Luis Oscar's to my hotel, got a bath and tried to sleep. But I knew I couldn't If I didn't exorcise this absurd story first:
I want the waitress, who's the...
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Luis Oscar is a name that only could be worn by the main character of a Southamerican Soup-Opera. But it is also a weird After-Hours in La Corua. I came back from Luis Oscar's to my hotel, got a bath and tried to sleep. But I knew I couldn't If I didn't exorcise this absurd story first:
I want the waitress, who's the...
Read More
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
mamba:
suele suceder, pero siempre hay como vajar un poco de ese estado... o desgastas la energia o t levantas a fumar o llamas a alguien .......... hay mucas mas
nirvana:
muchas gracias!
has conseguido q me ponga roja....
has conseguido q me ponga roja....
morgan:
I'm glad you're on my side!
And thank you!
And thank you!
The wind was shouting to my windows. Fog. At this 17th floor air prison.
Thousands of words to write, about unintelligible topics. No sleep for days. Seen no one.
To make matters worse, I just want to be frivolous, spend money, feel pleasure, have power, be decadent, be unknown.
So, I played Miles Davis. I dressed up. I opened a bottle of Cabernet Savignon, and...
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Thousands of words to write, about unintelligible topics. No sleep for days. Seen no one.
To make matters worse, I just want to be frivolous, spend money, feel pleasure, have power, be decadent, be unknown.
So, I played Miles Davis. I dressed up. I opened a bottle of Cabernet Savignon, and...
Read More