Monday, February 14, 2005

Defense de la follie

As much as I know, the words that are worth writing or saying are accurate and interesting reasoned points of view that maybe are worth reading (observation, analysis, interpretation, sensible but not sensuous ). The crazy words, the ones that whimp for a little of our attention will never see the little grim of contempt we give to his lack of sense. The word has become an absolute emperor of occidental reasoning. What once was known as "divine babbling" is now nonsense and trash that belongs to a world that is already forgotten. The mental barriers that structured occidental thought gave us is (ironically) the cause of repression, of obsessions that causes a disesase that is far more apalling than ordinary madness.

Whenever my little nonsense wants to be I criticize it. No attention shall be drawn to the babbling, automatic flow of words.
bards were once aspiring to the perfect speech, the dumbs were aspiring to catch a fly, my words to have a sense and your ears to understand. If there is no unfderstanding there is no contradiction, if there is a flaw, there is a law, if there is sound there is also fury, where is the logic to the sound?
Madness is the fear for the unknown, the understanding of what we are not aware of should bring chaos, sound and the boost.
I am an echoe of my own desires that control my belonging.
There is no knowledge if there is no discovering, there is no discovering without creation, there is no creation without madness...

Tuesday, February 08, 2005


Tu mirada se aplaza
mis ojos se difuminan.
El estanque resonó en voces
de tu prístina soledad.
Arroyo de pieles indispensables donde
porto tu aliento, sueno en tus manos.
La luna escondió tu silueta
en el vaho de los días.
Como alimento de espinas,
desgarras mis pasos.
Opaco mi iris
con el olor de tus ojos.
Entonces la furia y el grito, rodando por tus oídos;
repleto tu cadencia con contoneos
y esparzo tu palabra en el sinfín de las manecillas.
mientras en
silencio voy

Friday, February 04, 2005



Well, I thought that when reading other's blogs I would find some very interesting points of view about life itself, or maybe to be introduced into the minds and ideas of interesting people. The only things I found were, never-ending political issues, some very pretentious images, maybe a dull anecdote, advertisements, un-witty exchanges of impressions about nothing, complaints about unsatisfactory lifes and maybe (just maybe) a very personal portrait of someone that seems worth knowing. Any way, I have a couple of days looking for bloggers so maybe my conlusions are a little hasty. Maybe I'm just being a little naive when I think that these blogs are tools for creating texts, ideas and dialogue. I hope that these sites will not become as useless, boring, self-indulging, mind masturbating, and untrascending as chats, where communication is disguised and isolated in masks of fragmentation, where the face of a human being is put aside by emoticons, where the self is being exterminated. Call me old-fashioned, or whatever you will but virtual techology and communication means dead for reality and substance, "reality has been murdered" as Baudrillard says, by a bunch of dead people, nevertheless reality will have its revenge. I will try with all my guts to leave something substantial for anyone that enters this site, if I fail to do so, I will accept that machines have killed my being, but I'll try to fight against absurdity. if I am not accomplishing my goal, please let me know.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

¿Para que publicar?

¿Para qué queremos que alguien nos identifique? Tal vez necesitamos que nos escuchen para ir formando nuestras ideas del mundo a través de las opiniones que nos llegan a decir algo. Otras veces lo único que hacemos es restaurar nuestros rostros por medio de la palabra ajena. Es decir, queremos que nos construyan con sus ideas, al intercambiar puntos de vista que a veces nos llenan de soledad. Nadie nos escucha realmente, solo se asoman a tu cara, te dan la vuelta y tratan de aplastarte con sus largas hipótesis que dan forma a un universo ajeno, que podría ser nuestro. Para eso existe la escritura, para dar a entender lo que tu linda cara no puede, para que el rostro se vuelva anónimo. Para desaparecer en nuestras ideas y que el otro pueda contener un atisbo de nuestra personalidad. Hoy acabo de iniciar my blog. Tal vez esta es una justificación idónea para disolver el miedo de ser juzgado. Para saber que al ser leídos podemos estar tapando la cara del otro, llenándolo y fundiéndolo, tan si quiera por el tiempo que duren las palabras, a nuestra visión parcial que se acompleta con su mirada atenta.

I can´t see your face

I can't see my face