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perverse.

*

hard sadomasochism, novelist perverse realistic novelist.

how I love ...

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the blog, the cart, the newspaper said.

I got to review this whole blog thing because I do not recommend anyone from the outside and I understand nothing. A person can not be so fickle, but I think more than fickle this blog has been very a creative outlet, but would admit that these leaks responded to many concerns somewhat real, at least inside, because not everything that one is going through your head you say, but it can be written, if you want.

I have been rather full of memories, my fault has been partly the nostalgia, the feeling that filled my days on the buses, songs, and obviously all over this blog. I am hurt by nostalgia, I guess because I always dragged my cart a couple of stories quite significant, I guess because I never gave a space to empty the cart, and just put more stuff in it, even taking things from the bottom, holding things together, leaving no space for anyone to be happy. And I was carrying all the shopping, I looked cute with the cart, but it became thicker and heavier. And the truth is that the only things that walked were the first happy, then I had no control over the car, although I wanted.

At one point I guess I got tired, I got sick of myself and I stopped the car to the side and looked at him askance. "I do not want anyone taking Truck, I take it all ", but it's frustrating because no one is happy, things are crowded and I just think what the hell to do. Perhaps there was that thought that what the hell drag a cart, I do not need a cart, and ran away. Free ride as much as I could walk and at the end of the day I ran into the cart again, unintentionally. I looked at him with more joy and I believed I was ready, that perhaps all this time there had been but it was time. I grabbed the baby things and I took one by one. I managed a good place and put them respecting their own spaces. The cart was empty again, and I could finally run with it, with ease, speed and joy. Start again, now that I've learned to walk with cars.

time ago my computer was stolen. It was not until weeks later that I realized that not only had brought my PC, but all my memories, all my photos, all the things I wrote for years, and my journal. I felt bad when I realized that, I calmed down soon after. But a few days ago I decided I wanted to keep a diary, and when to do so I had to put "File" - "New", I really felt that option was pushing more than one sense.

I checked again this blog and how I always wonder what I should do with it. As always, I respond that I must leave it there, and things I have left the cart in a good place, and sure things from my other PC the folder was stored in a special (but no longer exist because the thief insurance the formatting). I do not write much here, because I usually write when I'm restless, and now I feel pretty good ...

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damn.


But if you stay, I'll make you a
night Like no night has-been, or will again
Be'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch I'll talk to
your eyes That I love so much
But if you go, I will not cry
Though the good is gone from the word goodbye If you go away
, if you go away, if you go away

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I walk to my appointment and I think of something witty to say, or a possible words she directed me to drop something witty, and I think laughter ... But all conversations that are hatched in the head before an appointment is always to be ignored, and collect dust until the ink will look for a place on a shelf to rot, the more organic as possible, together with the yellow paper . I'm going up the hill and think of the possibilities of our conversation, in the branches that grow from nothing in its main trunk, the tree acquires elegance of the talk. A pleasant conversation is like a tree. First the seed, the two fellow members with common experiences and tastes. Sometimes the seed quality is clear and you know that something great is going to take shape. Other times it's just one that puts all of the germ, but that's not a conversation; You can call conference or speech, but not conversation. The watered with a couple of beers and the roots begin to flow. If the stem is straight ahead, perhaps we are dealing with a cypress or poplar. But those are boring, but elegant, when the issue is central, discussed by two fellow members who know you well. I like to improvise more, sharpen everything until a flower and we can move to the next branch. In my case, approaching a bush with a fork in the main artery, as the life of my companion broke mine a long time, and so everyone is going to strengthen the trunk of another, and small leaves frolic with each other, entangled with grace until it blooms a lush and beautiful shrub, with small yellow flowers, topped by mutual smiles. Almost every flower I've done, with different nuances, sometimes acid, sometimes innocent, but she always adds a fresh aroma that homogenizes everything.

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hooked nose as his eyes appeared the two ends of the respiratory system, always ready to release mucus and saliva to the other cronies. Imagine the most difficult geometric shape, any equation can be squeezed, and this is his hair; report, worn, polished by the incongruity and the resulting trauma; a meeting of infernal forms, those hovering around Goya to drown in charcoal. His mouth to mouth seemed jaws, but not aggressive, because their teeth worn and ridiculously small, square and useless, seemed is going to fall after the first bite. No, what really terrified me out of his mouth were those lips, but not fleshy-catching, but full of it, both drowned you look, you sank into tackiness and softness scented (perfume and soft velvet grandmothers burned by cigarettes), I dragged to the depths, to the inmost recesses and impenetrable, those who shudder at the naive medical students in the first autopsy, which cleared them look innocent and were worse, as only they know the surgeons, having seen the real man inside. Let's go down to your neck, but not before passing down his chin, where three black hairs between beautiful solitary camping wrong colored by creams that mimic meat, but do nothing but melt between plaster, giving a texture between cardboard and sticky organic carton the first puff you would vomit. But not everything was going to be monstrous, as the shadow that leave the corners of the two meat-eating snakes form a perfect cone, an hourglass reminds you that time passes, and had already to be a while talking about his neck. His neck is stretched to infinity when they want to poke your eyes Fuck you just leave a dog in the road, or that kid in the crib crying to shock, like a car without a battery. This is his neck, elegant, fit for a lady over his body, but wait, we have not yet reached the bust, this slender torso with two sources (one flowing with milk and honey flowing another), without contentions know rolling in style on the steep mountain of ribs, and say it is noticeable perfectly steep valleys and mountains to the great chain, a straight spine and sublime, worthy of a muse, a nymph, the best whore of a god some decent; in his harem ragweed and continue to enjoy other pleasures and let us finish this description. Marvel not too much of a bust, as a lame arm, and only one, rises halfway up a few inches below where it should be (the supremacy of the neck is obvious) fall without grace or bone, pure mixture of meat or clay is not known very well. It looks like a piece impostor, added a posteriori, and that we start to get a perfect picture of the victim. Therein lies, lying with his head so far back that looks like your neck will crack from one moment to another, with the nostrils, mingling with the eyes, also dark and deep, a look that immerses you into a spiral that not even imagine Fibonacci. Rosa his body lying on the floor of my bathroom tiles. Sent to workers in black tinted cement joints so that contrasted with the white matte, and I can say now that was a great idea, and that over time the tiles, tile style arbitrary shapes, have been separated, leaving see the black as smart and necessary.

The poor fell on a puddle of pee, or maybe the pissed up, I forget.

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--- --- DEF CON DOS
26 FEBRUARY - ZARAGOZA - Multipurpose Hall

ZULU TIME --- ---
5 February - Lumbreiras aupa presentation party in Tobarra (Albacete)

--- THE RED ROOM ---
February 5 - Sevilla - fun club ---

Ivan Ferreiro - -
February 18 - Sala Acapulco - 22:00 hours
Gijón
McLane --- ---
FEB 4: SAN SEBASTIAN: Teatro Victoria Eugenia
FEB 5: OVIEDO: Auditorio Principe Felipe
FEB 12: NEIGHBORHOOD (Gran Canaria): Teatro Victor Jara

--- --- Mama Ladilla
February 4: Cadiz: Supersonic room
February 5: Seville: Room Malandar
February 11: Valladolid: Porta Caeli
February 12: Salamanca: Potemkin

--- ---
Mürfila February 4 - Razzmatazz - BARCELONA
February 11 - Fnac Callao - Madrid
February 15 - Sala Galileo Galilei (BSO 80'S - CHARITY CONCERT) - madrid

ROSENDO --- ---
5 FEBRUARY - Tafalla (Navarra) - Sala Kube
25 FEBRUARY - Murcia - Auditorio Victor Villegas

--- --- VARGAS BLUES BAND
February 12: THE EXHIBITION HALL mojonera (ALMERIA)
February 26: AZUQUECA de Henares