Fragmento, alias Fotograma.

...Ahí está lo que nos hace diferentes. Igual no de muchos, pero sí de algunos.

Y ser diferente nunca supo tan jodidamente bien.

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."