so how is it, the new year, my outlook, my prospects

who the hell cares. no better than last year; I guessed that 2007 was going to be awful, but that turned out to be a bit of an understatement. now from the perspective of my couch, of my vodka and my three-coloured cat, I realize what a huge waste of time last year was. at least for me. same as the year before, and the year before that.

some januaries ago, we were in a bar and he was saying that yes, it was unfair, and yes, it sucked, and he was sorry, but he was with someone else now and, you know, things happen. besides, he said, it's not like you're doing a great job at convincing me; you're not marketing yourself. you're way too intense. he then dropped a bill on the bar and walked out, and I grabbed his glass, smashed it on the bar and made a few long cuts on my arms and thighs, thinking, you're right man, I'm intense like you have no fucking clue. then I put the pieces of glass in my pocket and I still keep them in my personal shrine.

now it's january again, I'm sitting on my couch freezing and shaking under my blankets because it feels like I have all the seven winds of the arctic blowing around my ribcage. I had to go through it again, sitting there and listening hey, you know you're lovely... but you're just too intense and thus not worth the trouble. besides, I know we shared a lot, made a lot of plans, and a lot of promises... but you know things happen, and now there's someone else. sorry, bitch.

I don't know if I've moved forward. I do realize there's nothing in the house I can safely cut with, including my still sharp pieces of long-ago glass. so I won't cut myself though I think about it. I feel it would help me calm down. but, something vaguely tells me this isn't worth it, no matter how low I feel right now. there's a red string on my finger since tuesday, it's meant to remind me to take things at their exact face value. it's telling me to hang on and not let things crush me. in other words, put on Cartoon Network and try to chill, because even though life is mostly dry and lonely and you can't count on a damned thing in the whole wide world, not even yourself, there's still some damned cool things to hang around for. they're just not what I'd hoped for.

this too shall pass.

stop all the clocks and cut off the telephone

I don't care if I never smile ever again, you know? fuck that. who wants to be fucking happy? not me. besides, my brother is right; it's NOT about being happy. it's about going in and going by and leaving only the bad behind --and not too much of your blood or the blood of others, hopefully.
happiness is only something you'll think you remember when the hard days come. you will say, 'oh lo, I wish I was back when blah blah, then I was happy.'

well guess what, buddy; that happiness you thought you felt was a complete accident. a combination of pheromones, probably good food and more likely than not, sex. it wasn't real. you think you've ever felt close to someone? that wasn't there either; it's just what you wanted to feel. if you're really, really lucky, the other person wanted to feel the same way too.

people lie all the time, your friends are lying and so is your lover. you're a liar, too (and so am I). you know it isn't personal, I know it too, and so does everyone else, so let's just live with it, okay dokie? yes.

the worst part is that, even if life has always been like this and people were always complicated, we currently live in a fucking deadpan world that only produces lukewarm, wishy washy cunts who claim that now they're swingers, who think funerals are a chance to get under the spotlight, who hide behind smarmy comments and long skirts to avoid getting their hands bloody, cunts who are pathetic, in short;

gone are the times that saw men like my father and Colin White grow up, men who not only sailed through life, both literally and figuratively, without ever apologizing or explaining themselves to anyone, but they actually trekked this earth doing what they wanted, hiding behind no one, acting to the beat of their own hearts and stirring souls, egos, minds, revolutions, questions, and the occasional stew or omelette in their paths and trails, like real men should.



rest in peace, professor white, sir, thank you again for always, always believing in me, the dumb girl with the hat who always tried to hide from you. say hello to my Father and to Blake.



one last note: colin's pictures belong to my friend miranda, who also goes by the name of Irene Adler, unbelievable as that might seem, under this wonderful new concept writers and artists had NEVER used before: it's called a PSEUDONYM. dimwits.

freddie my love

love of my life, you hurt me
you've broken my heart
now you leave me
love of my life can't you see
bring it back bring it back
don't take it away from me
because you don't know what it means to me....



you will remember when this is blown over
and everything's all by the way
when I grow older I will be there at your side
to remind you how I still love you
I still love you

no, More Frustrating.

Date #341b422u4
great hotel on Reforma, nice tall guy, australian, dinner, drinks, the works. he says I'm beautiful, the red in your hair is so cute! I say ok. we have a nice time.
655 songs on the ipod, 36.8 straight days of music, and on the taxi home I hit play and Pictures of You starts playing.

FUCK, and I was almost ok for a moment.

así como el shófol de la ipodia, que se complace en enviarme justo el combo TheCure-DresdenDolls-NinaSimone-James-DamianRice que sin fallos termina por arrancarme lágrimas mientras troto por toda la ciudad bajo este infernal sol de invierno, con el resultado que ando por la calle con una cara de compungida que daría orgullo a magdalena,
igual que
alguien en eltrabajo dejó ayer por casualidad una taza de fucking chocolatito sobre la repisa, que yo me tiré toditita encima de los únicos pantalones limpios que no están rotos y de los Nikes más bonitos del mundo, que me compré justo ayer y que son lo único que me proporciona placer estos días. nuevos duraron... alrededor de cinco horas, y eso que yo venía hasta pisando con cuidado para que no se arrugaran,
igual que
hoy alguien volvió a dejar otra taza de chocolatito en el mismo lugar, que yo ME VOLVÍ A TIRAR ENCIMA encima de los otros Nike más bonitos del mundo, que acababa de lavar para que no se sintieran mal junto a los nuevos, y del único par limpio de pantalones rotos que me quedaba.
(ahora ya no sé qué me voy a poner mañana para el trabajo).
así como
cómo te atreves a decir que me gustan puras banduchas alternativas.... imbécil.
o
señora, sería tan amable de cerrar la puerta, porque me estoy bañando. verá cuando cuelgo la toalla en la puerta, cierro con seguro y abro la regadera, espero que se note que aquí hay un ser humano que espera un poco de privacía.
y NO, esos no son mordiscos, son moretones porque en el fondo soy una bruta salvaje y cuando me sale lo hooligan pretendo irme con sansón a las patadas, lo cual significa que mi hermano me dio tal paliza el sábado que creo que un metacarpio me está saliendo por el codo.
así, o más frustrante.

speaking of dreams, this morning I definitely had my third best dream ever:

I'm sitting at a table on a long hotel porch, looking at the ocean, there's a stage behind me, and the cure is playing. they start with 'just like heaven', it sounds so good I start singing with them while I'm staring the sea, and suddenly I realize that robert smith is sitting by my side and singing in my ear, and looking into my eyes, we're singing together about angels dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting underwater, and I just wriggled all over, giggled like a schoolgirl, probably fainted, and then woke up with a big fucking smile on my face.

dream #2 and #1 are me in bed with stabler from Criminal Intent and horatio from CSI Miami, and george clooney feeding me potato chips in bed, respectively.

ps. and all this makes me wonder if maybe this morning robert smith woke up and told someone over coffee, O Lo, I had the strangest dream about some freckley bird last night...

diez veloces (y aún perplejos) meses más tarde, ésta va para mis padres. papá, sueño contigo en algún punto casi todas las noches, luego despierto y siento siempre la misma estúpida sorpresa...

si tú no vuelves
se secarán todos los mares
y esperaré sin ti
tapiado al fondo de algún recuerdo

si tú no vuelves
mi voluntad se hará pequeña
me quedaré aquí
junto a mi perro gato espiando horizontes

si tú no vuelves
no quedarán más que desiertos
y escucharé por si
algún latido le queda a esta tierra

que era tan serena
cuando me querías
habia un perfume fresco que yo respiraba
era tan bonita, era así de grande
no tenía fin

y cada noche vendrá una estrella
a hacerme compañía
que te cuente cómo estoy
y sepas lo que hay
dime amor, amor, amor
estoy aqui ¿no ves?
si no vuelves no habrá vida
no sé lo que haré

si tú no vuelves
no habrá esperanza ni habrá nada
caminaré sin tí
con mi tristeza bebiendo lluvia

el nuevo amante es imperturbable y remoto como las nubes en este cielo tan octubre y tan azul. pasa lista como general despótico y no tiene el menor reparo para indicar, señalar, corregir y reprender todo lo que no es de su completo agrado. hablamos y hablamos desde extremos opuestos de su prístino y perfecto sillón, escuchamos música, él me reta un poco, yo lo mando a volar, me pone nerviosa y él lo sabe. eso le hace pensar que él gana, lo cual a mí tan me parece curioso como me tiene sin cuidado; es mejor siempre dejar que él piense que va ganando, a menos que sea estrictamente necesario demostrar lo contrario. nos caemos en gracia el uno el otro a pesar de que somos tan distintos, a él le escandalizan mis distracciones y mi estado de caos y llamas perpetuas, yo le hago burla por ser un pequeño dictador intolerante.

este nuevo amante es frío y contenido, sin diminutivos ni hadas transparentes, no se nos pierden demasiadas caricias entre los embates y mordiscos nocturnos y el reservado beso de despedida por la mañana. sin embargo esta mente calculadora no es insensible, sabe jugar sus cartas, me planta enfrente un plato de comida caliente y observa con cierta diversión mi aturdimiento ante estos cambios, que un chico me sirva de comer para variar. de la misma manera muy serio se levanta y gruñe de ida y vuelta del clóset para envolverme en un suéter y me dice que debo comer más dulces o me voy a quedar pegada al piso este invierno.

todo esto a mí me viene muy de perlas, me gusta este guey un poco indiferente, un poco lejano, yo me callo y lo observo, le dejo hablar, luego él me deja hablar, ninguno de los dos siente la necesidad de fingir o forzar absolutamente nada más de lo que ya está ahí. para mí esto está más que bien, porque estoy demasiado exhausta para saber o querer explorar lo que siento. sólo quiero seguir y estar bien.

today I missed you so horribly, to be honest these days I spend more time being angry at you than actually missing you, although I do that too,
today was the worst though.
standing there with the music washing over me, feeling the beat of the bass in my temples and in my heart, and I felt frozen in the midst of thousands of people, my skin broke out in goosebumps, with every cell of my body aching for you to my terrible annoyance, because I knew that moment belonged to you and me, to us, you weren't there, instead somehow it was just me and so cold, and that was just WRONG.
but then again, there's no other way, for we're both sinners... aren't we? and there's just no salvation.


this dream never ends you said
this feel never goes
the time will never come to slip away
this wave never breaks you said
this sun never sets again
these flowers will never fade
this world never stops you said
this wonder never leaves
the time will never come to say goodbye
this tide never turns you saidthis night never falls again
these flowers will never die
never die
never die
these flowers will never die
this dream always ends i saidthis feeling always goes
the time always comes to slip away
this wave always breaks i said
this sun always sets again
and these flowers will always fade
this world always stops i said
this wonder always leaves
the time always comes to say goodbye
this tide always turns i said
this night always falls again
and these flowers will always die
always die
always die
these flowers will always die
between you and me
it's hard to ever really know
who to trust
how to think
what to believe
between me and you
it's hard to ever really know
who to choose
how to feel
what to do
never fade
never die
you give me flowers of love
always fade
always die
i let fall flowers of blood