mosaic

"tonight" sometimes is the only hope.
paved by streetlights we use to forget about pain...

"maybe for a while i'll be allright again." we use to think.
"sometime, sometime, i will forget about this".


waiting, hoping, for the time this days will become just yesterdays.

Last memory (boston city).

Maybe i realized that it wans't a dream, too awesome to be a dream,

when i saw october leaves, of massachussets trees, on my feet in that boston's street.

Clean close sky-line line, dead empty sea.

And that places i was once more, second time completely unknown.

My came back home, is just a fight for the not forgotten details.

Hours pass playing to fix missing pieces of one night. Missing pieces of one face.

I always imagined how a last memory before dying could be.

For years, i tought mine would be his green eyes looking to the roof,

blowing his cigarrete smoke, filling up the car.

Always will be a person. But i prefered a painfull one, with part-erased face.

Kind of memory about beauty, and happiness. One second of life-film.

If I die tonight, Boston will be a girl-last memory-face, with painfull missing pieces,

others worth to be forgotten,

but still beauty as the first time she looked into my eyes.

-"October leaves, on Massachussets trees,

a sight so fleetingly free,

just how October leaves, just how October leaves me."

HH

- People trying to stay gold.

Forgetting...

...

...forgotten.

"I miss you"

Some of us live as long as we can in yesterdays, too afraid to let our memories being forgotten.
Others are the kind too busy forgetting about their best days, never calling them "the best ones". Too afraid of the pain of the remembering.
This last are the ones that will never find the irony in our "i must forget".

Someones spent their life trying to find themselves, others try to avoid knowing their inside every day.
As this first are always asking without wanting an answer, the second ones never want to give one.
When someone does not answer a message is because he is waiting for another person one.
The one who talk most never wants to be listened, except by himself.

We all sleep in our lazyness, too busy being afraid to be free.
Someones spent their life searching for freedom, building their own jail. The others too worried protecting the little windows of their one, forget to guard the main entrance where the monsters come in.

They all will live in one obsession, called sky, or called land.
Too afraid of what the outside can teach you, too afraid to be alone inside.
Crying our loneliness because we were too scared to share our bed.Too afraid of death, because they never enjoy life.

Im crying and crying my mistakes, they are the crying too much.


Afraid and afraid, of forgeting. Afraid of being forgotten.
We will forget about love, but this city won't forget about us.
Our memories will be forgotten, our steps will not.

They have already made history,
miles, miles away, under our same sun.

-I've been forgotten because of my crying, worst pain.

Memories, all paths of glory

-My memories, also made to be forgotten.


"All paths of Glory - Sinking Ships

I've been waiting all these years for nothing. Hoping I'd learn to feel alive. One day, never came for me, screamed so long I can't fucking breath. Could you hear me screaming? The yesterdays left us dead inside and all that remains won't keep us alive. But I made it this far without you. Did I make it this far, to just stand back and watch it all fall apart. These years stopped my beating heart. These years are tearing me apart. I let the yesterdays destroy the things I loved so much. These nights, this city, and the ones I've lost."

II

-Yes, life's a bitch, but I'm a bigger stronger one.

Diego Ancla

Chapter One:

Diego Ancla before and becoming "Ancla".

-Perfection does exist. Is about knowing how to use imperfections.

all your friends are gone

-What if Monsterland is my Monsters ball?

Running

Hiding

Forgetting...

running, hiding, forgetting

Nightmares NEVER lie.

-Monstersland must end tonight.

cold world / forgotten

Running after, running after, running after the ones who never felt my way. Some thing harder than not finding your niche or where you belong, is to be forgotten for all the places you've been through. My steps, "love, faliures, and lives" will be forgotten by their concrete. There won't be any breath of souls that crossed my life after me, that's what its seems. I've always been forgotten.

How i wish that my heart could only remember those who sometime understood it, those who somewhere, sometime remembered me. But their memories are broken, and so far away. That made my orchid die. "Such a tragedy!", and i'm not coming back to life. Forget about love, forget about them... Love forgot about me before i needed to forget it.My thoughts and words will be lost into the air.My way of life was made to be forgotten. The blood of my veins, with so sad words, was tracen to be forgotten.

The last drawing it will make on the basement, will be cleaned.

-"life's a bitch, and then you die."

Youth by Cold World

love must be forgotten.

So let's forget everything we lost, everything we don't have. Lost must be forgotten.
Let's play absolutely happiness with our new shoes, last downloaded cd, or the partying tonight. Love must be forgotten. Let's tie us to every moment-satisfaction, one after one, perfect never ending straight line of pleasure over every mess, mistake, over our loneliness every night. Because love must be forgotten.
Everyone wants the same, we all miss the same between our deep sheets tonight. Something that can be broken, something we can't control for once. Our little painfull secret every night, seems like a shame. So let's hide it inside, let's feing it never mattered, "we can live without it, we can live without it, we can live without..." until we don't hear ourselves screams.It must be forgotten, for never need to ask "why?" again.



Let's enjoy our never-trying lives. Because love MUST be forgotten.

"the easy way"

"The youth is sick

and no one cares

So we're just gonna

find the cure ourselves."

Swamp Thing -The Easy Way

Contact

...Y confundí tu respiración con el sonido de un coche solitario trasnochando al lado de mi ventana.

miles away...

How many miles...? Miles away.

Miles away, under the same sun.

how many miles...

"Pave Paradise"

chances, and postscripting

Unknowing the last time i wrote with passion and without being frightened, i would like to write out for once my chances and not my fears.To be afraid is as bad as being frightened of be frightened, so maybe this is the time to tell myself that human beings act just like human beings, not like clocks, so there IS a turning back.. We have the chance of not repeating our mistakes, and even the chance of hope with hoping nothing.
We have the chance of giving a chance to others.
We have the chance to love and not waiting to be loved

refugio del 2 de febrero.

De todo lo que hay a la vista, en esa calle en medio de todo

Entre monotonía de ladrillo rojo; hierba amarillenta, seca y aplastada

El único sitio que todavía conserva algo parecido a un sueño,
rodeado de árboles cuyas sombras hacen miles de posibles dibujos en el suelo...

Era el camino por el que él volvía a casa.

square one: through glass

Kids are left, left in cold streets
with no battery mp3's

There was a lie
there is no end of the line

Let's open them again.
So we'll be able to START again.