Once Upon an Inspiration

"Lets get into any black hole together

And risk ourselves to know the unknown

Just the two of us together."

                                  - Carlos R. Salazar 

As the silables begin to pile, 

a new meaning becomes it's words

a passionate melody begins to form. 

A song written, never to be heard...

To fill a white page, as ours have been filled, takes numerous efforts in living

...the worthy opponent, a harmful adventure...

To write a story, based on memories, takes courage

...to face one's fantoms and translate into words...

To endure one season, of this simulated journey, takes an amount of clever inception ... too rare to uncover, too rare to assemble...

It is in this scarce episodic phenomenon that we find the adduction needed to create the unexisting ink, to write upon absent sheets of blank ,the interweaved route where our footprints have met... 

And predict when they will meet again... 

Once upon two Roads

THAT IS IT!!!!

Not one more way NOT to make a light bulb... I'm done!

The ultimatum has been given...

one of the roads diverging in a yellow wood has to be traveled, not sorry I cannot take both, Ich darf nicht lange Zeit stehen bleiben...

On the one side, there's a sunday morning and the rain is falling, I've stolen some covers and shared some skin... It's not precisely raining green, but surviving is a way of living. The warmth inside makes up for the cold overall, and a crowd of tynies substitutes the crowd from a tiny. It did not reach the top of the pyramid, but the closeness makes it the same.  On Sunny Days, the black and white film of the "what if's?" plays again and again...

On the other hand, I explore the familiarly unknown uncovering what I already knew... I find it. But leave it all behind, in a way that I only move through what has already been mastered. I lead a life of escorted solitude with what was supposed to be there on the first place. I am still nowhere, but I am good at being there...

Aaaand>>>>>   TA-DAAAAA.....

ok... 

the light bulb is not working :S

Once Upon a Wall

"El acelerador se hunde cada vez mas, al tiempo que la velocidad crece... No es un camino despejado, la colision es inminente; Es Necesaria... "

Insignia especial: experta en nudos... 

Nudos en la garganta, imposibles de deshacer. Nudos en el pelo, de las prolongadas horas en pocision horizontal. Nudos en la mente... continuamente encontrando la forma de volverse a formar... 

"Happiness is what you get when all your wishes come true... isn't it?" 

- The Ghost 

3,2,1...

....Still waiting...

"La pared se acerca a 70 km/h... 80... 100... el espidometro es solo una forma mas de cuantificar informacion totalmente innecesaria. Dejo de verlo...

De que me sirve saber a que velocidad chocare contra esa inesquibable barrera?  

Frenar????

Si... es una opcion... 

pero, escojo seguir acelerando...

tarde o temprano me revolcare en escombros, es solo cuestion de tiempo; 

para que posponerla?"

And the beat goes on... 

The blood-cooling never-stopping over-charged engine, against it's better judgement, does not want to give up... 

Give up....

...Give In...

"Un fuerte sonido acompaniado de un espectaculo de chatarra voladora produce el asombro de los expectadores, todos imaginarios..."

Once upon a Playground

Up... then down... 

The rusty scream of joint metals creates a bittersweet symphony...

The opposing weights on a see-saw mark the pattern followed... It's sky-high for a moment, and ground low the next.
Never knowing what will happen, I'm torn between pushing as hard as I can, and letting myself fall...

Holding in to the past, yet reaching out to the not-so-near future... Opposite mirror images emerge... with only one thing in common: Jetzt...

As the sun falls down, I know I am obliged to push up one last time, but the strength required has already left me...  I am done for... I am dead... and I will remain so, until sun morning comes once more.

Once upon Taciturnity

What ever is there left to say?

When words fall flat on the clouded floor, and epiphany is knocking at your Cellar Door...

What is there left to say?

Denial is a way of survival, acceptance twilights you into another zone. And the words not said, are the ones that hurt to the bone...


When it is better to say nothing than say everything at all...
...What ever is there left to say?

Letters stand next to each other...
...Laconic...
...Moronic...

Stares glace at each other...
...Harmful...
...Dreadful...

Obvious silent Truths face each other...
...Mascarating...
...Liberating...

And when everything has been said in the deafening scream of reticence...

What is there left to say?

Once upon a silence

. . . dot, dot, dot. . . 

...Words are strangers to me... enemies...

Aware of what has to be said, my fingers do not manage to type.

 Can I trust my printer, to carry the message through?

day in 

day out... 

16 days... and it's done...

whenever will certainty strike?

. . . dot, dot, dot. . .

The room remains in a deafening silence. The endless buzz of an overworked computer is entrancing. 

A cold drop of vanity runs through my back, freezing down to my bones. 

. . . dot, dot, dot. . .

...The words not said,  hold more power than those shout out loud...

Es gab ein mahl, Wissenschaft

Es gibt einige zeite, wann ich mich selbst frage, ob was ich denke, dass ich weiss, ich wirklich weiss. 

Und dann, ich bin sicher, dass ich nichts weiss... Und als S. gesagt hat, das ist alles was ich weiss...

... Manchmahl, ich frage mich selbst, ob ich blind bin... Ob was ich sehe wirklich dort ist... 

... Vielleicht, ich sehe nur was ich sehen will... Vielleicht woruber ich sicher war, existiert nicht...

... Manchmahl, ich frage mich selbst, ob ich taub bin... Ob etwas klingt, die ich nicht hoeren will...

... Vielleicht, was ich zu ignorieren versuche, ist was mir sichern koennte... Vielleicht, was ich hoere hat niemahls geklingt, sondern es ist nur in meinem Kopf...

...Manchmahl, ich frage mich selbst, ob ich verrukt bin...

... Aber ich weiss diese anwort schon...