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Apologies for not posting, health and family reasons ... I have taken time to do
We will be soon updated with those who follow us ... a hug for everyone.

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Well, it seems that I have more than one year with the blog this

a ratillo ago, bored, I've seen more than a year with my blog hosted on blogger. I started a 11 April 2010 and I posted all the post that had housed to date on another server that was more bland than a rice without salt. At first the blog was the promising title (for me at least) of "I'll Leave the Depression, but eventually changed it now looks as it received fewer visits than the conclave of Pope Mariano I the shits . When the post just the beginning of my career blogger, who were about my day to day, just putting the mp3 that he had heard as elaborated that entry. Then I got to tell things from my past (something movidito him), then try a bit culturizar and started making entries more judicious, more work. Then I got to return to writing and I resumed the habit to write his own poems and short stories of fiction, which was interspersed with other more established writers (what if). Now touching the past year and it has given me to make music that I like. Why such variety? Because I'm like, more variable than a cock and I like sharing things with others, the true purpose of the blog. In fact so much free time I enjoy that I have 5 blogs at the same time, three specific music, in which I limit myself to share the music that I consider "good" for me and just as some links are hard to find, the goat (jjejejejejeje), no, I prefer the word shared keyword in the fight between rich and conservative internet copyright, who simply want to get richer off the labor of others without giving a stick to water. If we consume all that is put on the market, would dawn on these boundaries, but that is the exclusive market for children's father, the poor walk we must make do with pleasure in the network copies and pirated copies brand clothes, such as a live's, one where I put the links of the books I find that I find interesting and this takes us, a potpourri more or less personal, without being or to be leaving.

I'm from a cynic and a scary liberal. In some of my poems I have toes and in the pictures I tried to be sometimes crude. I do not care what you think of me. I'm subjective in any format unless ye made me. I'm just shared the same books poetry music video clips that my thoughts short stories zillion thousand other things. Religious (to which I make a point, I'm an atheist by conviction own readings derived from all kinds of books about the dogmas of faith) are more than sick of hearing that must be shared, but paradoxically the case that are the least likely. I offer myself completely naked before all of you.

As you have noted, I have concluded the year in the gap. Passage of these superficialities. The important thing is that I'm still standing, with my sad depression, with followers who are cleared, with less readers, less commentators (if any), but that brings me to the wind. I keep sharing. If one reads with some objectivity to my words, sure you can learn something. At least not to repeat them.

Music I've been listening as elaborated entry:

Not Tonight Josephine - All On The Horizon (2011)

Washed Aluminum Pan In Dishwasher By Mistake

Leaves' Eyes - Passion To France

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Some have won a wild delight,
of risk to the wild pain,
tonight I might gain your love and suffer
am in danger of death.

might shudder at the battle, and start
a look in your eye.
How fragile is the heart that burns
intoxicated attempts and desires! Welcome

night of broken dreams, and
the days of brutal killings. "I can consider

weep to hear my troubles lurking?

me if with wandering pilgrims
wander away from it all, you
Vagas "by those distant fields
without abandoning your spirit?

Wild, deep, a horn sounds in the distance,
let me, let me go, where the sheik
and Britain are fighting,
on the banks of rivers.

Blood has stained
those stained banks of scarlet, I know
borders are covered with graves,
yet, let me go.

Although the cruelty of the Holocaust as the steam rises
of nations,
with pleasure I would join the ranks dead
if the order was given me.

The essence of passion must be tempered my arm, his zeal stirred
my life,
until the manpower issue
charm will succumb amid cries of alarm, such as trees killed
struggle with the storm.

If I, excited by the war, seek your love
Would you dare to stand beside me?
Would you dare to fail my passion, contempt
dam, the more maddening pride?

No, I will submit yours,
so high and free,
and love would tame that haughty soul.
If, tenderly love me.

Read my victory in your eyes, looking
, and testing the change;
then leave, indifferent, my noble prize
in the hands of distant guns.

wish to die when the foam to rise, when the wine shine
high;
without waiting for the cup falls exhausted
stinking life lies supine.

Then love will be crowned with sweet rewards,
blessed with hope and fulfillment.
wish to mount that horse, draw his blade and perish
between the howls of the battle.

Charlotte Brontë

Lorna Morgan Rapeseed

Death Stench

the wound was taciturn

my mouth but I continued sucking

cocks

with the blessing of the royal seal,

woman she's blessed

smarty

slaughter babies without mothers who claim their departure.

One of my clients took me to cum

head so they would not depart and swallowed

his dirty

sour flavor semen what I hate most,

to raw onions, and without thinking he pulled

bite cock spitting on the linoleum.

was with the jam was screaming and crying bloody

while I took my bourbon and I took a sip

to rinse my mouth of that fund substance without spitting

After gargling with the beverage of hell,

cursing the fucking junkie and his fucking cock.

Soon mantra scorpions called me

firm voice and sensed it was time for my dose,

with the rush to travel along the coasts of Sauron

while my body shaking with joy by the symbiosis

giving the brain a shot of this drug so bloody.

My vein seemed to come alive after me the turnstile

moved from right to left which snake through the branches

a forest planted in my left arm. Try

tame with the song of lost causes, but their lineage

not understand music. I went to kill as matadors.

And my substance which was the vein rose to my nostrils

and went to stick my mouth rebound inflándome

lips as bee sting and leaving

varicose

of even more red nose. Then I was throwing water

the wound and it sprouted five million worms.

And the truth is nothing but dead and dreaming I was

alive and while I had recreated my body let out

from inside the damned worms that lived with so much pleasure

in my rotten meat, occurring as rare in death by explaining

I can only say that after my intake of alcohol, my brain still works.

Antonio Jiménez

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We were four around the bed,
the priest knelt down beside him
his mother standing at the head,
off her feet waiting for the bride
we were sure he was dead ,
but his eyes remained open.

not die overnight,
not killed during the day,
but in the twilight
his spirit died,
when neither sun nor moon shone
and trees just floated a ambergris.

was not killed by the sword, not by
spear or ax, but never uttered

word from back here,
I cut the delicate lace neck
my dear brother.

He did not hit his shot
and cowardice is behind
tremble in a place where the horns,
trail hard to find, because the horns
range on bows and dusk
blind hearts.

They lit a large torch, where rapids
waved their arms,
Sir John, the Knight of the swamp,
Sir Guy, the painful blow haughty
three times twenty plus ten men, hung
the brave Lord Hugh to final.

I'm three times twenty plus ten,
and my hair has turned gray,
I met Sir John Marsh,
long ago in a distant summer day, and I'm glad
think
at that time you start your life with my hands.

I'm three times twenty plus ten,
and my strength was in the past,
but long ago I and my men,
when the sky was overcast,
and mist was creeping up the stalks of marsh, kill
Sir Guy, the painful blow of pride.

And now all of you, gentlemen,
Please pray for Sir Hugh,
tough and honest,
and Alice, wife of a warrior.

William Morris

What Paint Can Go In The Oven

Strange crying shame

Accustomed to

natural view

composition of things, I fail

,

however, to understand

custom of the people.

I get lost in a morass

untranslatable

my reasoning

of some behaviors that seem to me

capricious and childish

draw me.

Antonio Jiménez