the ghosts.

Sometimes the ghosts of our past comes to chase us, reminding us that we’re not alone In the nights, that in the precise moment we put some ice in a glass, to serve a drink, the ghost come out to chase us, and in some cases to torture , In most of the cases to remind what we left behind, what we use to do, coming from the darkness gathering the memories of past times, sometimes better others not so much, in my case the music also trigger the ghosts; of the worst and the better times I’ve gotten in life, but in all cases they chase me. There’s nothing to fear, they come to remind us who we are and who we was, and to teach us lessons. That’s why I write to exorcise these ghost, the ghost of the things, of the people I left behind.

LUST FOR LIFE

When I was student I used to hate vacation because as almost all students I was always short of money t o travel on vacation, now that I am a workman I love this periods, because the books waits for me to take me with them, and from time to time I can go out for vacation with my wife, I leave in the city my watch, my agenda and sometimes even my phone, and (If it is possible the car) no more long sleeve shirts, not more formal trousers, no watch, no hurry and no schedule that's life, no matter where I get, the relax is the best, so folks about to get my summer break, I'll try (not) to relax so much and write a bit more, thanx a lot and..

MOONSHADOW..

And if ever lose my way I wont have to look no more, as much as I remember these lirycs Is the much I miss some of my friends that i have losen, but it is not a pray for all of those we left behind, it is suppossed that is a reminding of the good times we share in the yard of the school, on the apparmento f one of the gang screaming out loud Moonshadow, risking our health by drinking that awful vodka, it was a loud fidelity sound sistem and we all were the worst singers ever, perhaps we didin't knew the lirics as we know it now, but I can tell, that even now when I drink a tasteful vodka and listen it, it ins't the same!
ant i am not moaning, I'm just saying ale, ale to all my friends that ever lose theyr eyes, and don't cry no more. for all of those bohemian nigths on the dormrooms fellas!!

FOOL'S PARADE

CLASE OBRERA

Today I wrote this to honor all of those who are the work force of my world, the first ones to die, the first ones to be fired, the ones that have forged with blood and sweat this beautiful constructions we got, the last ones to be blessed with the cream they made, never owns the land they have to defeat, cleaning places they will never habitate, working for centuries just for the bread they eat, all of those before me in my family that worked for nothing more than his bread, hopping to reach the end of the month and praying to be alive to raise up their children to be good man, I know a few good man of this that have worked like beasts not reaching up the dream of dignity in life, that work every day and every nigth to survey in this fucking world, drinking a beer from time to time to keep alive. and hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

PRAYERS FOR RAIN...

WONDERING ABOUT THE PAST TIMES WHEN WE USE TO FOLLOW OUR DREAMS AND WAIT FOR NOTHING TRYING TO TAKE ALL AND SLEEPING LESS EVERYNIGTH, TAKING TRAINS TO NOWHERE JUST FOR HAVE A PLACE TO FEEL WARM AND SAFE, WAKING UP IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE JUS WITH YOUR BAG FULL OF DREAMS LIKE AWIZARD, EXPECTING TO FIND FOOD, MONEY OR SOMETHING USEFUL IN YOUR BAG EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE, STEALING FOOD FOR SURVIVE,LOOKING FOR JOBS THAT NEVER GIVES YOU, EATING ALL THAT FURY AGAINST ALL OF THOSE THAT NEVER HELPED YOU, LIKE A PRAYER FOR RAIN..

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU.

No recuerdo la primera vez, por mas que intento no logro, debe de haber sido en una de esas noches que mi única compañía era aquel radio viejo y un puño de libros, pero caí. Esa fascinación por la gente, por su entorno, contando las vidas de sus amigos, como veía el mundo como vivía o verdadera pasión! ese libro sin lugar a dudas me dio otra perspectiva de las cosas, a través de sus ojos conocí a toda esa gente maravillosa, con la cual conviví en ese entonces, y me preparo para cuando yo lo viviera no me pareciera tan raro. Y a pesar de que marco (hasta cierto punto) mi vida, lo había abandonado; después de que en un cambio de casa mi libro se fue a otra casa que no era la mía. Hasta que una visita a una tienda de viejo lo encontré, ahí estaba lleno de polvo y maltratado por algún lector descuidado, (no era el mismo ejemplar que perdí) pertenecía a otra colección, pero ahí estaba, decidí llevarlo conmigo y disfrute casi como la primera vez su lectura, ahora acompañado de una luz diferente, con años de diferencia, recorrí de nuevo esas calles, me reencontré con esas personas, y me emocione con la lectura, y recordé lo mucho que me gusto su visión del mundo, de su época, de su entorno, de nuestro mundo. Por eso hoy este ejemplar ocupa el espacio de honor en mi colección, espero no perderlo jamás, aun que pensándolo bien lo verdaderamente trascendente es lo que me dejo su lectura y posterior relectura,