Día de Luto

HOY me desperté pensando en ti
Pensando en el tiempo que hemos pasado
Hoy me desperté pensando que algo andaba mal
Sentía un pequeño hueco que no puedo explicar.
"El hueco debe ser de hambre" pensé.
Comí.
Comí otra vez.
Pero aún lo tengo.
Miro como la gente alrededor poco a poco se aleja.
Y yo estoy aquí.
Sólo con lo que me comunica al resto del mundo.
Un piano al frente.
Y el sonido de una guitarra.
Siento incertidumbre.
No se que pasará.
Llevo esperando tanto tiempo.
Pero esperare más.
Siento la impetuosa necesidad de hablar.
De contarle a alguien de confianza lo que pasa.
El tenerte aquí conmigo es mi consuelo, though.
Solo desearía tener mi oído más desarrollado.
Para escucharte.
Para saber que hacer, que decir, a donde ir.
Esperar, esperar, dice la canción.
Lo mejor es que se Quien tiene el control.
Y que detrás de este día de luto
hay un galardón grande.

Generación NO-NO

NO generación ni-ni, que son los que ni estudian ni trabajan. Más bien generación No-NO.

No al conformismo. No a la pasividad.

Fuimos llamados a ser luz. A ser la sal de la tierra. A transformar nuestra mente y renovar el entendimiento.

Es difícil.

Aún fallo, and SO do I fail, pero ahi esta 1 jn 1:9.

He's faithful.

but MY GENERATION is quite real.

tRATA cada día de que nadie tenga en poco su juventud, siendo ejemplo de los demás en palabra, conducta, amor, espiritu, fe y pureza.

So hard.

Pero every day es una lucha constante...

feE-Lings/ main crunch's

wHAT is LOVE, wHAT IT's fOR?
sINCE I was a little girl, I've been hearing happily-ever-after stories. But now that I'm a young adult, I can tell it´s not like fairy tales. Nada nuevo ¿cierto?.
But the thing is, there are so many things involved. It is not enough just l-o-v-e.
Issues like job, spiritual life, proactividad, CHA, and moore, are important things to think about.
I agree.
I know HE has a plan. He stablished since the BEgining, how a relationship must BE.
There are no buts.
Aunque eso es independiente con respecto a que the word wait it's sort of difficult for me. HE Knows my hearth's desires. I believe I'm in love right know. But I do not know if we were MADE to BE 1+1. our imanes as time passed, they get more fuerza.
But yes, to be honest, no , No, no quiero jalar.
SOMEtimes I've tried to be a cheerleader, but it does not come quite natural.
I like to do it, but I want someoNE to build me uP.
I do not have to say, you should do this, you should try this, you....
No, eso debe salir del artist.
A veces me siento como en un tiempo incierto.
I do not know que pasara.
Cómo pedir.
Qué decir.
Se que
estoy
en
TUS
Manos.
Please
TELL
Me
what
TO
DO.

Se QUE 70 días de ausencia, ayudarán en este círculo.
But YOU. i DO not want to leave out of This.
I magine me with out you.
------------------------------------------
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mORFOLOCURA - travaille au Français de Goly

Heme aqui, tratando de hacer un análisis de simples palabras en francés, desde el punto de vista morfo&syntax. Menos de 20 palabras y no hayo cómo empezar. A mi derecha, un trio de compañeras, lidereado por la hija de mi madre, ya en la segunda etapa del trabajo.
Atrás, un trio apurado en la etimología.
Golylinguistics, hable y hable en español pero no entiendo un comino.
¿Mi equipo?
Dispersado.
Parece que llevo un atraso.

1. Littérature
2. Livre
3. Métaphore
4. Prose
5. vers(poème),
6. Poésie
7. Lithographie
8. Art
9. Essai
10. Abstrait
11. Surréalisme
12. Cubisme
13. Roman
14. Ecrivain
15. Artiste
16. Baroque
17. Classique

If someone can help, let me know.

ArTE hUAhuau...

Mr. Quijote wants to know...

...is it true that if you were raised en la sierra, you have less culture? Less opportunities to develop?

A friend of mine proves the contrary.

Aunque sometimes, he leaders the list of the comformity.

But anyway, God commands us to make a difference.

Could ART help?

Por supuesto.

"El que tiene imaginación, crea de la nada un mundo"

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Vincent

A very popular (y viejo) poem by Tim Burton

Vincent Malloy is seven years old,

He's always polite and does what he's told.

For a boy his age he's considerate and nice,

But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.

He doesn't mind living with his sister, dog and cat,

Though he'd rather share a home with spiders and bats.

There he could reflect on the horrors he's invented,

And wander dark hallways alone and tormented.

Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him,

But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum.

He likes to experiment on his dog Abacrombie,

In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie.

So he and his horrible zombie dog,

Could go searching for victims in the London fog.

His thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime,

He likes to paint and read to pass the time.

While other kids read books like Go Jane Go,

Vincent's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.

One night while reading a gruesome tale

He read a passage that made him turn pale

Such horrible news he could not survive,

For his beautiful wife had been buried alive.

He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead,

Unaware that her grave was his mother's flower bed

His mother sent Vincent off to his room,

He knew he'd been banished to the tower of doom.

Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life,

Alone with a portrait of his beautiful wife.

While alone and insane, encased in his tomb,

Vincent's mother suddenly burst into the room.

"If you want to you can go outside and play.

It's sunny outside and a beautiful day."

Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn't speak,

The years of isolation had made him quite weak.

So he took out some paper, and scrawled with a pen,

"I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again."

His mother said, "You're not possessed, and you're not almost dead.

These games that you play are all in your head.

You're not Vincent Price, you're Vincent Malloy.

You're not tormented or insane, you're just a young boy."

"You're seven years old, and you're my son,

I want you to get outside and have some real fun."

Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall,

While Vincent backed slowly against the wall.

The room started to sway, to shiver and creak.

His horrid insanity had reached its peak.

He saw Abacrombie his zombie slave,

And heard his wife call from beyond the grave.

She spoke from her coffin, and made ghoulish demands.

While through cracking walls reached skeleton hands.

Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams,

Swept his mad laugh to terrified screams.

To escape the madness, he reached for the door,

But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor.

His voice was soft and very slow,

As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe,

"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,

Shall be lifted - Nevermore!"

Cubisurredadaísta...

"When you are smiling

ocurre que tu sonrisa es la sobreviviente estela

que en ti dejo el futuro la memoria del horror

y la esperanzala huella de tus pasos en el mar

el sabor de la piel y su tristeza

When you are smiling

the whole world

que también vela por su amargura

smiles whith you".

M. Benedetti