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.:Sunday, February 27, 2005:.
Red Cherry Taste Bogotá.

By. Laura B.

Después de ya más de un mes de haber llegado. Ya tengo las fotos con toda clase de locuras vividas en la capital y los alrededores.
Esto fue Colombia 2004/2005.(haga click aquí)

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:22 PM:.

.:Tuesday, February 22, 2005:.

Disney Trivia

What's wrong with this picture?
Look cosely...


This really happen by the way. Where are we going? Do YOU know what your kids are watching right now??.. I think not.

During Aladdin, when they're on the balcony after aladdin makes a wish to be a prince for the princess chick. Anyway, it cuts to another scene and you clearly hear somebody say "take of your clothes" if you crank the volume a bit

Now Listening to: Glass Slipper (The Dresden Dolls)- More Than This (The Cure) Best Served With: Hell yeah! stay-young sessions.

.:Lo wrote this at: 11:14 AM:.

.:Sunday, February 20, 2005:.
Art? What on earth can be seen as art??

The surest and most profound way back to a true reality is to give up ourselves completely.Give up on that stupid idea of owning a home you'll have to pay for the rest of your life which looks exactly like the one 20 feet from yours.Do yourself A favor and do about 60 miles per hour and throw that cell phone out the window!
Give up the false idea of yourself which the herd instinct has taught you.Our highest form of reality is to give up this joke of a life and cling to truth.Die to the self that is not your true self.True reality and true humanity is to sacrifice yourself for what you believe in. Are you willing to die or at least lose your personality to find your true higher self? Go big or go home!

Now playing: Name (Goo Goo Dolls)- Split Second Feeling (Cabaret Voltaire). Best Served with: more spanish films.

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:59 PM:.

.:Saturday, February 19, 2005:.

Curly, Larry & Moe.

Eruption,turbulence and hurricanes of Mrs. All-is-red.
By. Laura B.

Behind that tropical rain Forrest, there's some curious soul living it up. Mojito?
Just remembered how to make darn good home made muffins. From Oatmeal to cherry-flavored.

Now Listening to: Crucify (Tori Amos)- Samskeyti (Sigur Rós) Best served with: Dark coffee or some frapuccino with Irish cream.


.:Lo wrote this at: 6:02 AM:.

.:Monday, February 14, 2005:.
Is this really really you? Cold enough for you to feel real human? Do you feel it now? Mi vida sin mi.

This is you, eyes closed, down in the rain, you never thought you'd be doing something like this. You never saw yourself as.... I don't know how you describe it, like one of those people looking up at the moon, you spend hours gazing at the waves, sunset or.... I guess you know what kind of people I'm talking about, maybe you don't.... Anyway, you kind of like being like this, fighting the cold, feeling the water thrusting through your shirt and getting to your skin.
You feel the ground growing softly beneath your feet. The smell, the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, all this that they talk about in the books that you haven't' read. This is you, who would have guessed it? You.

Why aren't you like the others? Like normal people?
carajo!!!! No body is normal, there's no such thing as normal people.

You tend to see clearly now (or at least you try to, you're still trying goddamned). You see all these borrowed lives, borrowed voices.
Mini Vanille everywhere.
You look at all these things you can't buy, now you don't wanna buy them, all the things that will still be here after you're gone. But then you realize all the things in the window display, all the models in the catalogues, all the colors, all the special offers, all the recipes from Martha Stewart, all the piles of greasy food, they are just there trying to keep us away from dead, but it doesn't work.

It's cold in the supermarket and you like that. People always read the labels of their favorite brands really really carefully just to see how many chemicals they have, and then they just put them in their car as if they said: "sure, it's bad, it's bad for my family but we like it". No body thinks about death in the supermakets.

You don't know who or what are you praying to.... You just pray.

You wake up, and you return to your selfishness. The night is way to short, you hear a cheap rapper making an appearance on the radio and it disgusts you. You feel uncomfortable.
The weather is not your favorite flavor, you almost give if it's not for him, in that blue jacket, with that kindly was of speaking...

Plastic roses, gay couples in the hall, fake Belgian chocolates. "And you can send me dead flowers every morningSend me dead flowers by the mailSend me dead flowers to my weddingAnd I won’t forget to put roses on your grave..."
Unplugged... Disconnection. Turbulence.
got dumped exactly a year ago... Lovely. "Urn With Dead Flowers In A Drained Pool"
Another day for hallmark to make money, and, for those that don't have a special someone, to feel like a complete waste of space.

For you fellows who actually enjoy days like this... I hope you have the time of your life. This is for you. Enjoy it:

Now listening: I Will Buy You A New Life (Everclear)- Why Does It Always Rain On Me (Coldplay)- Wax and Wane (Cocteau Twins)*- Baby Can I Hold You (Tracy Chapman)- Bone (Soft Machine)- This Mess We're In (Radiohead ft. PJ Harvey) Best Served with: could we have more spaghetti? Bognolesa?

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:28 PM:.

.:Saturday, February 05, 2005:.

Living under the crescent moon.
By. Laura B.

I spent many hours looking at the sky, I see that, above all, the sky is never still. Always moving....Even on cloudless days, where the blue seems to be everywhere, there are constant little shifts, gradual disturbances as the sky thinns out grew thick, the sudden whiteness of planes, birds, and flying papers. Even in its blackness, the sky does not rest. Clouds drift through the dark, the moon is forever in a different form,ever changing, like a Joyless eye.
The moon, among the stars that have a different birth and the wind that continues to blow.
Sometimes a star settles into a patch of the sky and I as I look up I wonder if it was still there, or it had not burned out long ago....

A white wall becomes a yellow wall becomes a grey wall. The paint becomes exhousted, the city encroaches with it's soot, the plaster crumbles within. Changes, then more changes still.
This is me, still wondering out loud, wondering if this pain will go away and honestly... the sooner the better. Lonelyness is my one and only company that still hangs around, just like a metronome beating steadily inside the random noices of the nowhere and the everywhere, place where I consequely have to remain solely on my own surface, looking outward for sustenance. I'm just a lost soul that hasn't found a reason to be, my soul is on the wrong track, loneliness of the longdistance runner, my life is a game, solitariness enclosed in the universe I've created.

Desolated, left behind like some cherry old toy. Playing the game of stolen thoughts and silence in madness...
For every soul lost in this particular hell, there are several others locked inside madness, unable to exit to the world that stands at the threshold of their bodies. Even though they seem to be there, they cannot be counted as present.
Even if I were to be somewhere full of others, my soul still feels empty...
Just need to wait, my time it's still to come. Need to get some strength , keep things up and survive this hell I'm living in right now, capture my loneliness and give it to the devil as desert, make friends with the devil, that's always good...
Find my somewhere, my own everywhere, where we all belong, couse like someone said, we belong everywhere.
Give them what they need to recieve. Take the chance and make them feel hell in their eyes, make them struggle as I'm struggling, they are the aristocracy, the elite of the fallen. fuck'em.
Take out the flag...

Own mental coach:

Baudelaire: Il me semble que je serais toujours bien lá oú je ne suis pas. In other wordsL it seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not. Or, more bluntly: Wherever I am not is the place where I am myself. Or else, taking the bull by the horns: Anywhere out of the world.

(Paul Auster- City of Glass.)
Do you recognize me? This is the first (thing I remember)
Now it's the last (thing left on my mind)
Afraid of the dark (do you hear me whisper)
An empty heart (replaced with paranoia)
Where do we go (life's temporary)
After we're gone (like new years resolutions)
Why is this hard (do you recognize me?)
I know I'm wrong (but I can't help believing)

Songs, lyrics, chords... they all explain how my world has been spinning around like this.
judge for yourself.

Excuse me
But I just have to
Explode this body
Off me...
I'll be brand new
Brand new tomorrow
A little bit tired
But brand new.

-- years and my life is still
trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
That the world was made up of this
Brotherhood of man
For whatever that means
And so I cry somethimes when I'm lying in bed
Just to get it all out what's in my head
And I'm, I am feeling a little peculiar
So I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What's goin' on
And I say hey....
And I say hey
what's goin' on
And I say hey....
I said hey what's goin' on
And I try, oh my God do I try
I try all the time
In this institution
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day
For a revolution...
(Four Non Blondes)

You know where I come from
You know what I feel
You're Yul Brenner Westworld
Reporting from the field.
I threw it into reverse,
Made a motion to repeal.
You kicked my legs from under me,
And tried to take the wheel.
I told you I wanted to be wrong,
But everyone is humming a song
That I don't understand.
Now I know that the sun has shined on my side of the street.
Mythology's seductive and it turned a trick on me
That I have just begun to understand.
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough
Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm Choosing my confessions
Well, everybody hurts sometimes,Everybody cries

All day staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why
But I'm not crazy,
I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy,
I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
I'm talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
And I know,
I know they've all been talking about me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow I've lost my mind
(Matchbox 20)

I'm barely here
I wish I could explain myself
But words escape me
Down, down, down,
Pick me up I'm falling
Last night it came as a picture
With a good reason, a warning sign
This place is void of all passion
If you can imagine it's easy if you try
Believe me I failed this effort
I wrote a reminder this wasn't a vision
This time where are you Houston
Is somebody out there will somebody listen
Should I go back
should I?
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back
should I?
I hope I won't forget you
My head is made up of memories
Most of them useless delusions
This room is bored of rehearsal
And sick of the boundariesI miss you so much
(Blink 182)

This is it for today. please join us, tomorrow, at this time, same channel.
Now Paying: Show me Forgiveness (Björk)- Let My Fish Loose (Aphex Twin)- Cherry Coloured Funk (Cocteau Twins)- Poinciana (John Hassel & Ry Cooder & Jacky Terrasson)- Fuck The Pain Away (Soulwax)- What's going on?.Acoustic. (Four Non Blondes)
Best served with: a nap, beer and an ufo lamp.

.:Lo wrote this at: 2:06 PM:.

.:Thursday, February 03, 2005:.
La máquina.
Una máquina que se cierne sobre ti.

La confirmación de que todas tus esperanzas son vanas.
La confirmación de la vida,
y de que empezar a vivir -dejar de soñar- y abandonar la infancia
es decidir -sin saberlo- que todos tus temores se hagan realidad.

Aunque nada sea real, excepto lo peor.

La más oscura de las alegrías:
celebrar que alguien en tu interior
está muriendo
para ser alguien que no quieres ser,

y que serás porque no queda más remedio.

Un brindis por el placer.
Por el placer de ser,
y no por el de poder ser.

Que así sea...

Now playing: National Geographic Channel. Best served with: pizza & beer.

.:Lo wrote this at: 5:20 PM:.