tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61027843970721103462023-11-15T05:44:41.218-08:00I N S A N T I D A Dinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-42475133466764323072014-05-26T19:09:00.002-07:002014-05-26T19:09:40.878-07:00Singing about truth<br />
Knowing "everything is going to be ok" is a lie<br />
If you're looking for a light, better start looking inside<br />
This is the long, long nightinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-23783794073232790592013-02-18T06:58:00.001-08:002013-05-19T17:53:48.597-07:00Touching from afar...<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px;">
In space, I believe one can travel far and wide, without moving<br />
I believe there are stars for everyone, and thy shall always shine bright<br />
I believe there is no need to breathe, 'cause I only need the air from your breath<br />
I believe space is one and only for everyone, where everything and everyone can and will be<br />
In space, I know we can be together at last...</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px;">
Why can't you?<br />
<br />
I'm reaching our for you, traversing black holes and going through dimensions<br />
Flying as fast as I can, I'm fearing the burning light<br />
Opposite forces try to pull me apart but I won't let them<br />
It's like dying right now would be worth it<br />
If only you believed we could fill this empty space together<br />
<br />
Why can't you?</div>
insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-7321137714460689802012-10-25T11:07:00.000-07:002012-10-25T19:22:37.398-07:00CinderThe nightmares crawling from underneath my bed keep telling me about you<br />
As they creep inside my head they sing of your past misdeeds<br />
I try not to listen, but their chanting is oh, so sweet<br />
I begin to sing with a voice that isn't mine, screaming, gasping, reaching for air<br />
In the cold night it brings me the warmth I craved from you<br />
Cause' when I got lost looking for you, inside of you, it seemed like you were never there<br />
<br />
Cinder!<br />
<br />
This love's gonna burn us whole<br />
And I won't let go<br />
<br />
Cinder!<br />
<br />
Please, when the time comes, just go<br />
But I hold on<br />
<br />
The staring red eyes across the room won't blink<br />
I found myself drowning in someone else's sweat, its salty taste clinging deep inside my throat<br />
This Hell I know well, I welcomed it with a smile<br />
<div class="p1">
Now it feels this is way much more than I bargained for when I sold my soul</div>
How did I fall this far, only to pretend I didn't share our agony?<br />
I fear I'll wake up just to turn the corner and find an alley of past ashes and...<br />
<br />
Cinder!<br />
<br />
This love's gonna burn us whole<br />
And I won't let go<br />
<br />
Cinder!<br />
<br />
Please, when the time comes, just go<br />
But I hold on<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-61051397530863395552012-06-24T09:43:00.002-07:002012-08-08T09:49:04.507-07:00A mercedAsí que con esta canción me despido<br />
Si la vida nos deja compartir una tarde juntos otra vez<br />
Ese día volveré a perderme en los laberintos de tu cuerpo<br />
Adentrándome en lo más profundo de ti s<span style="background-color: white;">urcaré tu corazón con mi boca</span><br />
Tus lágrimas y las mías se confundirán en una misma<br />
Y con algo de suerte podremos dedicarnos una sonrisa...insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-37206369525479144442012-03-10T11:26:00.000-08:002012-03-10T11:26:40.972-08:00Ted Bundy<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">Hope is a negation of reality</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">The world brakes and so is my brain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">High as Heaven, black as Hell<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">This is the new meaning of pleasure and pain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">I don’t know but I been told<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">All that glitters it ain’t gold<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">I’m coming to your home tonite,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">take you with me in denial<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">As I fly and spread the cum,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">you’ll wonder why Hell has come <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">I ain’t no bringer of life or dead<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11pt;">I have no reason but hate itself!<o:p></o:p></span></div>insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-26148406025441390892009-09-15T07:20:00.001-07:002009-10-20T21:36:04.780-07:00you need to dig deeper<br />far beyond the ribs<br />past the heart<br />you need to bury you fingers into the flesh<br />feel it and smell its rancid smell<br />nevermind the blood spurting from every hole<br />...in time, with any luck, it'll drown us allinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-80311904589189945852009-05-05T12:11:00.000-07:002009-05-07T00:25:41.898-07:00<div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">if i had a heart</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">i’d give it to you</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">wrapped as a present in a fist of blood...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">...that’s what i dream</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">when i dream</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="ES-TRAD" style="font-family:Arial;">about you</span></p> </div>insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-46447096596719557632009-04-27T07:21:00.001-07:002009-04-27T09:36:17.165-07:00what is there to know?"that's life", they say "that's how it is"<br />people come and go, you just have to keep on going<br />but every person that comes inside me leaves with a piece of my flesh<br />and i'm weary<br />i don't want to be made of pieces anymore<br />of memories<br />of someone who came and left<br />i don't want to look inside myself; i'm afraid to find they haven't left anything behind<br />only scraps of what i used to beinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-6859270060531907262009-04-03T12:25:00.000-07:002009-04-03T12:30:28.590-07:00he knew it; deep inside he knew it<br />doors would never be completely closed, no matter how hard he tried<br />she was caged in a room with walls on all sides and, even so,<br />light was coming out... there would never be complete darknessinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-61337716886085415092009-03-26T09:23:00.000-07:002009-03-26T09:26:22.022-07:00sin títuloahora colecciono fragmentos de mi vida para ti,<br />mi pequeña habitante<br />antes he invitado a que se pierdan en mis calles<br />que se escondan en los callejones<br />que jueguen, a fin de cuentas, en este laberinto<br /><br />pero saberse perdido produce una cierta sensación de vértigo<br />yo sólo puedo enseñártela…<br />que quieras compartirla conmigo,<br />dar vueltas y vueltas… hasta caer borrachos,<br />depende de ti<br />bajo mi sonrisa, que tanto te gusta, debes saber leer muy bien<br />“abandone toda esperanza, aquel que aquí entre”insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-81037179002468464422009-02-19T14:39:00.001-08:002009-02-19T14:39:37.278-08:00untitleddemons live inside me<br />mostly they like to watch, they are among the most beautiful enthusiasts of voyeurism<br />but, from time to time, they like to go out and amuse themselves<br />they are into bathing in someone else's blood<br />they are into sucking someone else's odds and ends<br />they are into a lot of things i don't like to tell<br />because i like to do them myselfinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-35773597105911063162009-02-18T18:13:00.001-08:002009-02-19T07:20:52.558-08:00untitledin time blood doesn't hurt<br />it dries and sticks like any other stain<br />it's red beauty long gone<br />exactly like what i used to be<br />exactly like what I'm nowinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-9318314929263489532009-02-18T18:03:00.000-08:002009-02-22T09:23:35.393-08:00untitledis it me, in tiny places?<br />why don't just fade away, peacefully<br />blown by the wind with no direction<br />no other drive but the movement itself<br />drifting in waves of blind intentioninsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-13728956506378059662009-01-10T08:39:00.000-08:002009-01-10T08:40:20.157-08:00untitledEverything we were<br />Everything that meant something<br />Every moment<br />was slowly fading<br />Like old memories from a stray past<br />There was no more edges to grasp or hang on<br />I wished we could linger<br />But I knew it was the shape of lost hopes hiding behind meinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-77310230979903333672008-12-28T23:58:00.000-08:002008-12-29T20:54:04.109-08:00EndThe world should crumble, and bury us all<br />so we can finally rest<br /><br />Our shattered bones could at last disappear in tiny pieces<br />turning into dust, there is an end<br /><br />We can endure whatsoever<br />Those alive and forgotten are always too hard to drive<br /><br />Maybe it's our nature,<br />maybe we're just insaneinsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-35640900109821917012008-12-24T14:12:00.000-08:002008-12-24T14:14:46.431-08:00Satan Behind Meyou won't disappear, the butterflies will wither and die,<br />and there won't be peace<br />I am chaos, and darkness<br />and I only wait for the world to tear apart<br />if only the knife could cut your skin in half, so I can see through ourselves<br />but I don't want to<br />I've become one with the devil, and so you shall name me<br />for I have lost hope<br />and I have lost love<br />and everythinginsantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-25711207085034977122008-11-09T21:09:00.001-08:002008-11-09T21:09:35.957-08:00...I’ve heard there’s a place<br />where people go when they don’t know what else to do<br />I can’t tell you how to get there<br />I have no directions or address<br />I can only tell you to follow that road<br />and get lost... lost into the night<br />you’ll find it, I know you will<br />you’ll know it when you see the neon lights...insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-78815903910184008292008-09-22T16:30:00.000-07:002008-10-05T22:05:20.914-07:00Last Hope Motel: Eraser.Outside, the clapping thunder announces a storm's coming. Soon it'll be here. Its noise is starting to get to my nerves... to think I came here in the first place because of the city's unbearable noise. I can't work with it. The big city and its highways always consumed in traffic jams, sidewalks crowded with people talking unceasingly, kids on every park crying and laughing loudly, the sky obscured by its tall skyscrapers and airplanes... it's so fucking <span style="font-style: italic;">irritating</span>...<br /><br />And just when you'd think that going to the desert -where there's literally no one- would relieve you of the city's noises, then you have to face a storm, and a big one. The rain’s already starting to pound hard against the cheap ceiling.<br /><br />"You'll be just fine, you're going to love the desert's landscape, it'll be nice and quiet" said the stupid cow back home. She even made the reservation for this cheap motel, couldn't she've found a worst place? Anyhow, I've brought everything I could possibly need to work here, from my notebook computer to my espresso machine and coffee brand. "You're exaggerating,” she said. Well, I don't give a fuck what she says. Anyway, everything's set up. I've been working non-stop for the last couple of hours. If it weren't for that goddamn storm it would be perfect...<br /><br />Holy shit what was that! All the lights went out... I'll be damned if a lightning struck the fucking place! Shit I don't know when was the last fucking time I saved! Fuck! Don't panic, don't panic... Sure it's a momentary thing, the place should have an auxiliary power plant for these kind of situations... Oh God, please tell me I didn't lose those last hours of work, please, please! When did I save for the last time? If I were back home she'd be all over me bitchin' "I told ya! I told ya to always save after you finish a draft". I know that's what she'd be bitchin' over and over, like that's gonna make any difference at all... Why aren't the lights back on already? Isn't there a fucking janitor around!? I try to reach for the phone but I accidentally spill the coffee all over the table. Fuck! I can't see a fucking thing, just glimpses when lighting flashes... Damn it! I spilled the coffee all over the keyboard. It turns off. Desperately I take my shirt off to try and clean up the fucking mess... Then the lights are back on.<br /><br />In an act of stupidity I don’t wait for the inner circuits to fully dry and go ahead and try to turn it back on; it doesn’t. Instead it starts to smell like something’s burnt. I grab my head between my hands. I need to calm down and think clearly. I can’t stay here anymore; I need to get that computer fixed. I can’t afford to lose all the information stored there, I can’t loose all the hours worth of work… or I’m fired. Hell, I’m <span style="font-style: italic;">fucked</span>…<br /><br />Outside the storm roars angry. It’s gonna be dangerous to drive with this weather, but I have to give it a try… I hastily pack everything and get ready to leave. Then the lights are out again. Fuck! With the lighting flashes as my only guide I make it to the lobby. It’s flooded; there’s no one. I don’t bother to call someone for the check out, it’s not like I’m paying for this shit. They can sue me later if they want to. I push the entrance door. It’s difficult to open with all the mud blocking it. As I open it more water floods the Motel’s first floor. I finally exit... and… and I can’t <span style="font-style: italic;">believe</span> my eyes: my car, apparently the only one left in the parking lot, lies submerged in the mud like it were a crashed plane, its nose deeply buried into the ground and its rear high against the sky.<br /><br />This is <span style="font-style: italic;">madness</span>… it’s like this accursed damn <span style="font-style: italic;">place</span> hates me…<br /><br />I… I can’t take it… I just can’t… I can’t take it anymore. Tears of rage begin to run down my eyes. Instinctively, my hands let go off my baggage. I don’t give a shit anymore. I open my briefcase in search of my Glock 9mm. It’s loaded and I’m ready. I shot the car’s trunk open. Inside there’s an emergency gas can I take with me. I feel like killing somebody, anybody… I go back inside.insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-5891505476550292732008-07-13T08:09:00.000-07:002008-09-23T07:39:32.522-07:00Last Hope Motel: Pitch Black.I wake up in the middle of the night, scared, crying, my nerves shattered... I can't see a thing, I find it hard to breath, I cough... I can't stop crying... It takes me a while to remember where I am as my eyes slowly adjust themselves to the darkness... I recognize the broken TV set and the paint falling from the dirty walls and I remember I'm here, lying in the bed of a forgotten motel room in the middle of nowhere... then I remember everything...<br /><br />I was torn apart a night like any other, at the age of fourteen. That night I was walking down the street like I always used to. Then four men raised from the dark, unseen. They hastily took my clothes off and put a bag on my head. They pushed me and I fell on my back against the pavement, with my underwear down my ankles. They almost beat me senseless. They spread my legs and one by one let me feel their weight all over me... <span style="font-style: italic;">inside</span> me. I couldn't scream; I didn't make a sound.<br /><br />I recall everything that happened on that night, like still photographs from a sad movie, second by second playing in my mind.<br /><br />So I wake up crying in the middle of the night, not knowing why. I find myself in complete darkness, so I suddenly realize the bag´s<span style="font-style: italic;"> again</span> on my head. I try hysterically to stop them, to repel them, not wanting to be hurt any more... but it´s too late... they <span style="font-style: italic;">fuck me</span> every time they want; they come and go in and out of my soul every time they want.<br />Sometimes I smell their foul breath intoxicating the air. It might happen in the middle of a sunny day, and I know it´s absurd, but the smell just won´t leave me... so I start crying in panic, fearing they´re behind me, <span style="font-style: italic;">again</span>, waiting for me to turn back and start it all over from the beginning... It doesn't matter, they don´t need me to turn around, not even touch me, to <span style="font-style: italic;">fuck me</span>.insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-10139020609956811502008-01-18T08:36:00.000-08:002008-05-23T08:18:50.164-07:00Last Hope Motel: DevourerThe blood dries in my mouth while the tiny scraps of flesh lie scattered on the blankets. As I look away the sunlight slowly leaves the room through the window throwing me into this darkness, a darkness only lit by the neon sign outside... Tomorrow there won't be a beautiful dawn to stare at, the same way as there won't be someone to share this cold and cloudy night.<br /><br />It was supposed to be perfect, I know. After you helped me run away from my home there was nothing that could get between us... except ourselves.<br />I shouldn't have left you, but I panicked. I'm aware I'm just a stupid little girl for running away... I feel so miserable for hurting you...<br /><br />...I take another bite ripping off a little more skin...<br /><br />I think of you often. I want to see you again, to hold you... my fingers dial your number with a will of their own, but I can't bring myself to talk to you 'cause I know you're never coming back with me; not since I left in the middle of the night, scared of committing to you...<br /><br />Now I have nowhere to go; I have no family and no lover; there's no one to look after me. This anxiety's driving me mad... The only thing I do is sit on this corner and eat my fingernails, desperately... what am I saying? I ate my fingernails already... so I've began to tear the flesh off my fingers... if only the pain and the taste of blood in my mouth could cast away this emptiness I'm feeling...<br /><br />...In this motel days go by one after another monotonously... and I can't sleep with you still living inside of me...insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-24069370759529065482008-01-01T14:37:00.000-08:002008-01-18T07:50:55.789-08:00Last Hope Motel: Memories.I’ve been driving for hours, wandering. Suddenly I see a diner at the side of the road. I park my car and go inside. The place's gloomy and dirty, like if it were abandoned years ago... it feels so lonely... there's only another customer beside me; I can't see him clearly but he appears to be an old man. I sit down and order a lime pie; I’m asked in return where I’m heading. “I don’t know” I answer. The old waitress goes to the counter to get my pie and comes back with it. “Well my dear, If you follow that road, after a couple hours you’ll see neon lights in the horizon. If you don’t know where to go, go there” she says with an afflicted grimace.<br /><br />I ask her for a pencil and a piece of paper; she kindly hands them to me. I start writing: “So here I am, writing this letter to you. I haven’t done this in a while… I don’t recall the last time I wrote a letter to anyone… I never wrote you a letter... It doesn’t matter anyway.<br /><br />I miss you so much... I miss the way your harsh look can be so sweet as soon as your funny dimple shows up on your left cheek everytime you smile, the tender way your hands touch me and how you always stare at me; God, I felt so loved and secure when you did that... the way you hug me... This isn't good, thinking about all that... I’m growing weary of looking at your photographs and paintings and listening to the music we enjoyed so much together; it hurts me, it keeps me thinking about you. All the good things, everything that was great between you and me is killing me… killing me very slowly, like a stake to the heart gently driven into my chest.<br /><br />I don’t know why I’m writing this. Since you ran away nobody knows where you are so the most probable thing is that you’ll never read this… Where are you? You only left a good-bye note. I’ve looked everywhere, I’ve asked everyone; but you’re nowhere to be found and no one knows of your whereabouts. It’s like you had entirely disappeared from the land of the living. Was it so bad with me? Were our differences so contradictory? Weren’t you happy with me after I did everything to please you? Or is that you found another girl, someone better, prettier? If that’s so why didn’t you tell me? It'd hurt less; it'd be a lot easier to get over you if you would've had the decency to tell me what the hell happened!<br /><br />*I sigh exhausted*<br /><br />I think maybe I’ll disappear too. Everything reminds me of you. Your presence's everywhere in my room; it’s in the pillows and in the closet; it’s in my clothes and in my underwear… Damn it, I fear it’s even inside of me!<br /><br />I need to get away from here. I need to breathe another air that isn’t yours… It’s a shame I didn’t write this letter earlier, before leaving home; I’d have left it on the bed where you made love to me so many times. In that way if someone ever came looking for me he’d know I went away looking for some mysterious neon lights”.<br /><br />It's getting darker, I'd better be going.insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-51292110490547977992007-11-26T11:27:00.000-08:002008-12-03T19:49:31.938-08:00Last Hope Motel: Dead End.<div style="text-align: left;">Right now I'm drunk. It's 4 a.m. and I'm driving nowhere. The night's cool and quiet; I'm not. I go as fast as I can wishing maybe a rabbit or the jackal chasing it will get caught in the headlights making my reflexes spring into action, making me turn the steering wheel violently in the hopes that the little animal won't be just another innocent victim, like myself... the scared little creep looking back at me, standing in the middle of the highway frozen in fear; then my reaction and then this car bouncing out of control until it crashes against a cactus tree. Away from everything there'd be no help... it'll be a lonely, painful and slow death. I can see it a thousand times in my mind... but, am I not <span style="font-style: italic;">already dying</span>?<br /><br />This thing I'm feeling... at first I thought it was rage... now I know it's not rage, is frustration... in the end, just sadness... plain and simple, dark and blue sadness; just like this desert.<br /><br />Looking into the rearview mirror I can see how everything´s changed, despite we promised each other it never would. Things doesn't work all the time; I stopped caring some time ago. She was my life, now there's nothing left.<br /><br />What's that? Are those neon lights? I fear I'm coming closer at an increasing speed. I don't recognize the distance between things anymore, and I don't really care: the bottle of gin at my side has taken care of it. Suddenly it's too late when I realize I'm driving my car directly against a building, a motel of sorts. I don't bother to close my eyes and wait for the collision. If this is the end, it'd make a <span style="font-style: italic;">good death</span>. I'm almost there where I finally die nailed to a wall, crushed inside my car's cabin. I can't wait for the impact. I resist once again the urge to close my eyes, the thrill exciting the liquor in my blood, my heart pumping faster and faster... but then reality loses its grip on me as I break through the motel as if it were an illusion, its walls made of the same fabrics dreams are made of. Instead of crashing against it I found out the place rests at the end of a cliff which sends me flying away into the darkness of whatever lies beyond the end of the world.</div>insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-61880185558484609852007-11-09T06:59:00.001-08:002007-12-06T07:23:11.668-08:00Last Hope Motel: The Ferryman.<span>Ever since she died I have longed to linger. The cancer devoured her slowly and sorely consuming us both until there was neither flesh nor blood to hold on to.<br />I survived to her only for our children; to see them grow strong and happy. We worked it out as a family led by her loving memory. We grew closer to each other, giving comfort to ourselves.<br /><br />We had to somehow fill the empty space left by her death.<br /><br />For quite a while it was OK. Our children needed me and I was always there for them. But now that has changed, they have grown strong and happy, and just like that they have left home to pursue their own future; a future where I am too old and lonely to wish to live.<br /><br />I go back to those years and it feels like they had never happened, just like some kind of dream; a bad dream as it feels now.<br /><br /></span><span>I have saved an <span style="font-style: italic;">obolus</span> for <span style="font-style: italic;">Khárôn</span> to take me to the other side of the river´s flow. I have decided I do not want him to take me here in our home. I would like to embark on my journey somewhere else far away from here, away from everything. A place where I have never been before, where I can finally rest as I am, as a forgotten old man. </span>insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-66209982592696957492007-10-10T08:35:00.000-07:002007-11-09T11:46:53.999-08:00Last Hope Motel: Orphanage.Mom and dad left some time ago. They told me they needed to spend some "quality time" together, or something. I miss them; I’ve never been away from them for so long, it’s like time had swallowed them whole. They didn’t gave me an address nor telephone number to contact them. If I could just hear their voice, know they're fine, anything! Why haven’t they called?! Are they ever coming back?!<br />I skipped school this morning because I wanted to look for them, and find they’re OK. I’m not sure why, but somehow I feel they need me, like they’re calling me.<br />I’ve been riding my bike all day with no certain direction; and yet I've got this strange feeling I'm getting closer and closer, and as this feeling grows, so does the <span style="font-style: italic;">coldness</span>... real weird stuff... like if I had went through some kind of barrier, a frontier between me and I don’t know what... like I said, weird stuff, kinda creepy.<br />Mmm... there’s something bright in the distance: it's neon lights. Maybe a motel?, like the ones alongside roads in the desert... only this one isn't at the side of the road, it's its end.<br />Anyway, I'd better get there fast, before I <span style="font-style: italic;">freeze to death</span>.insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6102784397072110346.post-19158855791697953362007-09-16T14:41:00.000-07:002008-05-27T09:18:52.322-07:00Last Hope Motel: Lost Hope Motel.<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span>"That’s life" they say, "that’s the way it is". Well, I decided life doesn’t have to be like that. When I first made it to this motel I took out that piece of meat they call <span style="font-style: italic;">heart</span>, with a fist wrapped in blood. I needed to get away from everything; even from myself.</span><br /><span>I put it in a drawer. Sometimes I place it on the table and stare at it. Strange as it is, it still beats... even though I cannot <span style="font-style: italic;">feel</span> anything.</span><br /><span>Now there’s no place to run, no way to hide; and no need to. I’m no longer human, I’ve become something else entirely: I’m a walking corpse. And they’re aware of my presence; I know it because they step away from me. It’s like the coldness of my body frightens them. Maybe they’re afraid of becoming like me, maybe they think I could harm them if they come near me.<br /><br />It doesn’t matter anymore; nothing can stop me now; they can’t <span style="font-style: italic;">hurt</span> me ever again.</span></div><br /></div>insantidadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17060405212001653574noreply@blogger.com0