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downing a nice botttlee of Malbec 2013, so let's get started.


Viernes.
25 marzo 2011, a la(s) 11:57
Deja vù, the only thing I could think of right away. A holiday, on a grey breezy day, does anybody know what this means? I am still young so I gotta catch the last chances I got in display.
It's gonna be a year anytime soon, and I still can't let go on some things. I am sure it was the wrong person but not the wrong situation. So this time, this time I need to build a bridge back into my dreams, and make sure I got the right company with me.

I am working on a holiday. Never a better representation of myself. Buenos Aires, Buenos Aires, Buenos Aires; home, home, home.
Bus driver looks a lot like Patrick Swayze, very kind, even made my 'hello' seem cold and rude compared to his warm 'hello, good day'.
I have noticed my writings are becoming more and more complex, yet easy to understand for they must not be read but 'felt'.

I think I am no longer writing in text. I now write in Scriptures. How much of Messiah complex in that eh?

Sometimes I see as if things were behind a wet glass. No,really, no interpretation on this one, I see things between blurry and melty, and I get dizzy. As though light deforms and shifts shape slowly and completely unaggressively.

It is a prophetic day today, For f*ck sake, does anyone know what I mean by this? It means I won't f*cking know until some time goes by, and some interpretation is made, and discovered. Can you imagine how f*cking boring would everything be otherwise? Literal? Mundane? What the f*ck.

Winter is my gnosis. I must not retain that idea from being expressed, even though I know I will change it according to my mood. Because that is who I am, how, everchanging, the same. Forever and a day. And smells represent parts of my brain that are related to my subconscious, feelings deep inside of being a normal guy. However everything comes in a strange, unusual shape, however not insane,not pointless, like some sort of 'dyslexia' (sp?) of the expression, or maybe the fun I have with confusing schemes.
I mean, with the f*ck did I keep binding myself to the Scandinavian region? Why have I never explored my desire in the old continent? And why some people get pissed off at the thought that I just love my home country and here I'd like to stay. Try and convince me of the contrary.

Excuse the crude of my words; they are not processed, and I am typing from my phone.

Today I dreamt of fishes and bread again. Not fish, fishes. My dreams couldn't be more obvious, could they?
The amazing thing is that all this is coming out of me everyday, and continuously. Sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, or monthly. There's not a precise map of where it's gonna take me until a couple of years later.

That's so f*cking weird, that man looks pregnant. I prefer trains to buses. Unless they are swedish buses. Icelandic buses are not that cool, neither are argentinian. But trains, trains are fantastic no matter where :)

Those are really nice boobs I'm watchin, by the way, although her face is not that awesome.

There's a sense in establishing a greater spiritual connection to the rest of the world; because this is the world I live in, why wouldn't I want to connect to it? That's why I try to walk barefoot. The Earth and the soil can feel me. I'm not f*cking crazy, I won't say the land, the planet talks to me when I'm barefoot, but it feels me. What the f*ck, we're all made of stardust. It's all the same shit, really.
It's like those moon things, where two people faraway from each other send a message, a letter or an email and look at the moon at the same time, you know?
I need to connect to the land that all of you walk on.


Regret nothing.






Obviously the wound is still open. But what am I supposed to do?
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