Poesia

Charlamos tarde a la noche,
No es este el amor?
Aprovecho revelar mis intimidades,
Notando nuestras idiosincracias.
Pisamos con delicadez alrededor,
De las respetuosas y merecidas memorias de,
Instantes compartidas, vidas enamoradas.
No era esto todo lo que habiamos querido?
Como es que me vuelvo mas lirico lo mas,
Me acerco a alguien, al alma de ti.
Nombro cruel mi infatuacion, pero para quien?
Mi enlace persistente con todo lo bello que imaginamos.
Que surreal que se han vueltas nuestras consciencias,
Solamente monos que nadamos en la sopa primordial,
o angeles divinos con destinos atados,
Extendiendo lazos de hilo romantico.
Vivimos una pasion que comprendemos tan pocos
Nosotros dos.
Los comentarios danosos de los otros seres humanos,
No me pueden tirar hacia abajo...
A pesar de la distancia, de la frialdad, y mis negaciones, nuestro amor vivia tanto tiempo,
Pero con un golpe frio lo desgracie y no podemos mas volver al paraiso, nuestro Eden temporario.
Te extrano pero admito mis errores y las fallas de mi personalidad, y no puedo mas aterrorizar tu existencia...
Adieu ma belle, un bisou eternel jusqu'au fin de notres jours

There was a woman who was taken in adultery. We are not told the history of her love, but that love must have been very great; for Jesus said that her sins were forgiven her, not because she repented, but because her love was so intense and wonderful. Later on, a short time before His death, as He sat at a feast, the woman came in and poured costly perfumes on His hair. His friends tried to interfere with her, and said that it was an extravagance, and that the money that the perfume cost should have been expended on charitable relief of people in want, or something of that kind. Jesus did not accept that view. He pointed out that the material needs of Man were great and very permanent, but that the spiritual needs of Man were greater still, and that in one divine moment, and by selecting its own mode of expression, a personality might make itself perfect. The world worships the woman, even now, as a saint.


Yes; there are suggestive things in Individualism. Socialism annihilates family life, for instance. With the abolition of private property, marriage in its present form must disappear. This is part of the programme. Individualism accepts this and makes it fine. It converts the abolition of legal restraint into a form of freedom that will help the full development of personality, and make the love of man and woman more wonderful, more beautiful, and more ennobling. Jesus knew this. He rejected the claims of family life, although they existed in His day and community in a very marked form. "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers ?" He said, when He was told that they wished to speak to Him. When one of His followers asked leave to go and bury his father, "Let the dead bury the dead," was His terrible answer. He would allow no claim whatsoever to be made on personality.


- Oscar Wilde


http://aurgasm.us/ - Beautiful music

Writings... Acaba de descubrir esto dentro de mis archivos lo habre escrito yo?!

Not something I wrote but something someone sent me, rather good!

Mr Montignoly is the darkest of all men; such darkness that can not be seen by others, for it is not his complexion that defines such a trait for his face is as pale as a winter’s night, as if never touched by the warm rays of the daylight sun. To find the darkness of Mr Montignoly one would need to see beneath the flawless skin that encompasses his black soul kept alive by the rhythm of a cold heart. Harbouring a sinister brain devoid of acceptable thoughts, he could never be said to be a moral man.

From his first memory of life, it seemed that all the young boy could do, was to unwittingly anger his father, and be punished from night to morning and noon. Where his mother had gone, was his first question in life which his father would never address, this caused him pain that never died down and the comfort never came. Whether it a blessing or blot, ten years on, it was his father he found on the floor, beaten to a pulp and bleeding to death, he just stood and watched in awe.

As the young boy grew, the anger swelled like a pustule ripe to burst, but he drowned those feelings in his muddy soul, as he was passed from home to home, unwanted by most and disliked by many, in an orphanage he was left alone. From that day on the confused child grew, with a warped understanding of being; to stay hidden away, keep himself to himself and not to stand out in a crowd. And so it began, the reclusive life where others are not to be found, in a room, in a house built on the side of a hill, far from the hustle of life.

From the town nearby, rumours were told of the man that lived on the hill and those who dared to snoop around, would not regret it for long, for the rage laid dormant for all those years could be unleashed at the drop of an axe. With hate victorious in the old mans mind the child can not be heard. It would seem that as much as he despised the man who yelled and hit him, the child had grown up and become the one that started the very circle of sin.

All change please!

The season is in a transitionary period, an Indian summer Audrey says, the weather jolts from cold, wet and windy nights to hot, muggy days, when I inevietably have to take the metro several times and arrive at my classes all sweaty like I used to in BA.

My work continues thick as ever, lots of courses are finishing though so I'm not sure what work there'll be in a few months. We'll see.

The biggest change is the return to Rueil chez les Rossi and my common struggles to define what kind of future I envision for myself at the moment. I know I'm looking for a career change and I've pretty much set my heart on working internationally, perhaps as an analyst like Dominic but more excitingly I'd love to work as a journalist or as a writer. Only problem being that I don't write..

I just found an advert online for a journalism internship in San Telmo at a "respected BA publication" but they are asking for two notas so I'll have to get on with scribbling down something serious! I've been trying to write a kind o short story about a night out in BA with a few emotional twists and turns but so far it hasn't turned out too well and needs a lot of editing if not a complete re-write. Hopefully Rueil will give me the time to get cracking on that.

Oh, and did I mention I've become a classic love fool? Yep, I may go through life with an armoire of regrets but in this current case I feel that a bold and beautiful redemption could be possible if we're as mad as we say we are!

But that chapter is yet to be written, for now I'm off to the wall and the France match, a pleasure to see other big teams suffering what may be a similar fate as that which we were subjected to after that ignominious night at Wembley all those months ago. I'll gloat at the French, and maybe the Argentines, but deep down I'll be disappointed not to be pitting our re-vamped, thoroughly motivated Capello machine against those perennial giants of the international game. Messi for one deserves his world cup moment an so too Ribery and the exciting young French team.

Let's see how this all works out then, I hope to be writing a lot more very soon indeed!

Be strong red puppy..

Today I've awoken to a new world, a fresh beginning that I long thought impossible. It took a desperate night of jangling nerves and raw fear to make me realise that all is not as guttural as we believe it to be and that our brains, although intimately linked with our hearts and stomachs, can display remarkable clarity in their resolve..

Many cliches came back to me after having been dismissed along the by the wayside, passed over and forgotten. Strength is not only physical and pain is a shared emotion, to be overcome together through maturity and resolve, not heartfelt yammerings, the whimpering yelps of terrified puppies separated from the maternal embrace. Life will throw us many curve balls and sometimes that boomerang we throw will come around and smack us in the face but we get up and we throw it again and again, fearless of physics and the damned biology that hampers our rational minds..

I am again determined and hopeful. There have been daemons inside of me that needed expelling and I hope that now having crudely ejected them in an emotional outburst I can begin to take those steps towards an emotional enlightenment that will liberate us from the pain I've caused.

"Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be."