Los cuatro gatos

Los cuatro gatos y el perro en las calles de una ciudad con smog encima pero con viento helado además. Caminan. Caminan. Copulan, fuman hierbas raras, comentan las últimas noticias tanto como comentan el blog de un amigo. En el fondo son las mismas cosas. Las mismas cosas.

On again, off again. Hipotéticamente bien, hipotéticamente mal. No hace mal destruir a veces, no hace mal querer construir. Nada, no se construye nada pero jugamos a que sí. Pero lejos de cada uno. Los cuatro gatos sin querer caminando sobre vidrios. Al lado de un precipicio. Una noche de luna. No importa, ven bien.

Los cuatro gatos

Los cuatro gatos y el perro en las calles de una ciudad con smog encima pero con viento helado además

Rainy days

La preciosa lluvia, el precioso perro, las preciosas calles, el precioso camión repartidor de gas, el precioso arcoiris, el precioso auto, las preciosas ramas del precioso árbol, el precioso preciosismo, la preciosa música, el precioso almuerzo, la preciosa amistad, las preciosas amistades, el precioso frío que congela mis preciosas manos, la preciosa chaqueta, las fantásticas risas, los preciosos arreglos de preciosos notebooks, mis preciosos gatos aburridos de la preciosa lluvia, el precioso código y el precioso svn, los preciosos días de no hacer nada más que cosas entretenidas, las preciosas novedades.

Hip youngsters

The young man listening to the then all new music from bands from Seattle, yes, he wore those shirts, and he was deeply sorry when one of his idols killed himself, so they say, and many years later he went to find the music that inspired his idols, and then on and on in a chain, digging underground to find some old records.

The young man taking a guitar, he was 18 and the world was afresh, a bright morning in september, filled with that cold air and that cold breeze. Electric sounds modulated by some kind of device. Tralala.

The young man still a young man, his brother younger than him developing in some way, learning about himself. That treacherous path, that unfinished path. The young man works, but he now knows that it must not eat him. Rather, he should eat it instead.

I love when things fail

There was a time when we were younger, and I admit I would laugh more often than today, and we used to hang around and just laugh, just have a good laugh, and I would strum an imaginary guitar and you would just run around in the grass. Yes, those were such good times and we did enjoy them. I laugh here often anyway, in these days, and you still hang around and I would just strum my guitar every now and then.

And sometimes things tend to fail, and the jar that was on the table is broken on the floor, and my wallet is suddenly void of money, but then I laughed and now I do it too. Somehow it is different, though, but anyway it is the same.

Cuando corre viento

Cuando corre viento, como anoche, helado y rápido, quiero salir a correr y andar por puente alto, llegar a las vizcachas, pasar la obra y empezar a internarme en los cerros del cajón del Maipo. Llegar a San Gabriel, pasar los caminos de tierra y llegar a alguna parte. Piedras, nieve en esta época.

Cuando ando medio melancólico, escucho a Kim Deal cantar "chained" en este video (la canción se llama hey, y es una de mis preferidas) y me da algo. Chained, we're chained.

But im not bound, but when im bound i want to be set free. But i dont like to eat, but i enjoy every meal.

Then I get it, then I don't.

In the life of…

The pretty little lizard got on his feet and started to walk away from the desert. All work and no play, the sand burning in his tiny toes, the blue horizon far far away, our thoughts to him in this very harsh moment. Namaste.

Our neighbour is sleeping, Frank. Yes, dear, what do you suggest? I think we may go and try to look if he's better. Yes, and he might be alive as well.

He didn't trust any of you, he was a very lonely man who thought that all of you were just liars. He felt like a victim, and so he killed himself in the hope of some freedom. Don't judge him so badly, for he did work well for you for so many years. Yes, he was a good horse. And he carried my luggage as nobody else did.

I can't believe that this is the end, dear. So many fucking dollars just wasted away and these idiots still can't complete the fucking house. If they had finished the bathroom at least.

All the pretty asses in the magazine got paid.

The little lizard moves to the town in search for beer and stimulants for his central nervous system. Yes, the messages don't match but the little lizard doesn't really care. All he knows is that the thirst needs to be gone and the desert won't be of any help. I believe that this is just a strange kind of self respect.

Not worthy of a fucking phone. Just don't take a plane. I don't care.