I’m standing were you left me,
you’d better come and get me…

.

What the hell am I doing here?
It makes no sense, this isn’t me. All this weakness makes me so sick..
.

…

…

Can’t get much done these days…

Things keep on happening…

I always try to anticipate
but it moves so fast
that I can’t calculate.

.

My life is a mess, just like everybody else’s I guess. Not enough time and too much stress… It’s just a matter of time. .

…

…

There’s nothing on TV,
there’s nothing in your eyes
and everything I’m told
turns out to be a lie…

.
.

Nada que ver, nada que hacer.
I’m trying to find a reason, trying to stay alive. But there’s nothing I can do: there isn’t any time.
.

…

…

It’s only something broken
that seems worthwhile mending…

.

.
Atención, pregunta: ¿por qué, oh, por qué?  Y ¿por qué no?
.
…

———

Why does the wind
blow through my house at night?
Why does the wind
blow thru my heart each time
I look into your eyes?

———

. … …

… .

One’s not enough… but no, you don’t move me anymore. And I’m glad that you don’t, ’cause I can’t take it anymore. Just thought you should know…
.

———

Movement and motion.
Music, a spoken improvement.
Incense evoking,
our souls stroking.

———

. … …

———

So, if I’m wrong again, I apologise.
You can take your guest, I’ll take out my eyes.
It’s a common thing to be out of line
but it’s getting old by the fifteenth time.

———

. … …

Dicen que a tropezones se aprende. .

Silence speaks louder than words.

There’s a ghost in me who wants to say “I’m sorry”… .

…

…

———

There was a time that we’d stay up all night
Best friends, yeah, talking til the daylight
Took the joys alongside the pain
with not much to lose but so much to gain

Who would have thought it would end up like this?

———

. … …

.

Al son del clarín
tan sólo baila el que quiere,
al son del dinero
dime quién no se mueve.

.

Selling our souls for the highest fee. And I love you, yes I love you… if the price is right.

Hay quien se vende, hay quien se alquila. Todo tiene un precio… y para todo lo demás, Mastercard. Nada nuevo bajo el sol. Y es que ya lo dijo Linda Henry, certera ella: “un leopardo no cambia las manchas igual que una puta no se cambia de bragas”.

.

…

…

…

.
We wasted so many truths / that we depend / on getting by / another lie… / I hear the end / the end of trauma slowly setting in, / my body seems to stop and freeze.

Stop! Stop breathing, imagine none of this is real.

A simple crowd makes a movement on my space. / I’m lashing out, / I’m crashing down / on all the people in my way, / I’m banning all of these habits from this place… / This place is ruined, been affected / after all the time I paid.

Stop! Stop breathing, imagine none of this is real.

Moving on to someone else / you’re always open with yourself, / but no one / I talk to no one.
Always falling short of help / I choose to take this by myself / and go / and I just go.

Stop! Stop breathing, imagine none of this is real...

.

…Y no dejas aire que respirar. No te muevas, no respires. No rompas nada..

.

.

…