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Road Trippin'
Do eyes from an ninety-year-old see more than those from an nineteen-year-old just because of the fact that they have seen more?
Do young eyes have more appetite? Are they hungrier?
Do you smell at that age even more?
do you feel more because you have felt more? does experience in feelings make you feel better than the real thing?
answers don't come from the heart, he's the one asking those questions.
Because No aspect of our mental life is more important to the quality and meaning of our existence than emotions that come from experience...and you? are you experienced?
Description: Road Trippin, Conquest of S c a n d i n a v i a
Location: Rotterdam-Haarlem-Hamburg-Kobenhavn-Malmö-Stockholm-Helsinki-Amsterdam.
Priority: high
Stage: preparing to launch.
Budget: low
Company: high-fi. First class colombo-finlandés.
Duration: from June 30th till July 14th.
Xtraäs: Don't expect me for dinner. Festivals- Photography and Adventures in the North.
A bientôt.::
.:Lo wrote this at: 5:09 PM:.
...
::Cava de Plato.
He came with the queen, unexpected, unusual, unforgettable. Like Peter, peter pan.
Liefde is een ernstige vorm van dronkenschap.::
.:Lo wrote this at: 5:30 PM:.
...
::
Orange made juice.
This is the time to talk about soccer.
The Dutch.
.:Lo wrote this at: 4:57 PM:.
...
::
Pulp Fiction
The Book of Revelations...
I've been amazingly into a particular blog these last few days... Observing that those who live just only one reality would sometimes disappear and those who believe in June 6th, 2006 will never be salvageable. (for you, non Spanish readers, use this, is worth it)
I've repeated this observation numerous times while drinking Himalayas best tea, stealing a glance of the faces of the moon, having a Colombian peche and writing a kind of list of revelations.
The end of the world has come often you know, and it continues to often come. Unforgiving, unrelenting, bringing darkness upon darkness, the end of the world is something we have become well habitualized with, made into a ritual. It's our religion to try to forget it in its absence, make peace with it when it is undeniable, and return its embrace when it finally comes for us, as it always does.
There has yet to be a human being to survive a whole lot of history without at least one end of the world. It is the subject of extensive fake debate whether stillborn babies are subject to the samen revelations...
if we could say that they have live without endings. This debate, of course, demands a close examination of that more profound question: Was the world first created of ended? When the Lord our God... Or my own god breathed on the universe, was that a genesis or a revelation? Should we count those seven days forward of backward? How did the apple taste, Adam? And the half a worm you discovered in that sweet and bitter pulp: was that the head or the tail?
Darling... It was fiction.
Pulp Fiction.::
.:Lo wrote this at: 2:02 PM:.
::From Generation to Degeneration.
Let's kill all flashes on regular cameras...shall we? flashes are weapons of mass destruction!
from generation to degeneration.
The only light that should be on is the moonlight. period.
::
.:Lo wrote this at: 7:44 AM:.
...
::Live Journalism.
Mi cuaderno en blanco siempre ha sido como una inmaculada bolsa de viaje donde caben todas aquellas ideas que velozmente atrapo antes de que caigan redondas en el saco de la nada y lleguen a sufrir el tremendo mordisco del olvido más hiriente que en la bolsa las espera. Es tan fácil ir colocándolas dentro de mi bolsa... como la prenda íntima que se guarda tiernamente amoldándose en cualquier hueco que siempre queda por ocupar. Infinidad de pensamientos de todas las formas y colores que quiera imaginar y que llevo conmigo a cualquier lugar.
En cambio, cuando -con la ayuda de la pluma- las palabras son las que paso a guardar, hay muchas que entran rígidas, algunas no caben, otras incluso se parten si las intento forzar... suciedad que queda incrustada en la tela como auténticos borrones que tachan los pensamientos rotos.
Abro y cierro la bolsa con la cremallera de la imaginación, y siempre la llevo colgada dela manija del sentimiento.
Y la bolsa no para de gotear. Rastro indeleble que dejo a mi paso con olor a jazmín, mocaccino y sangre... recuerdos, fantasías y personajes que nunca olvido fuera, por lo que algún día pueda llegar a contar.::
.:Lo wrote this at: 12:22 PM:.
...
::Obrigado
What would you do if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
What do I do when my love is away
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day,
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends...
à la Joe Cocker.
Una imagen dice mas que mil palabras.
mil gracias.
mil imagenes.
muito obrigado.
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
::
.:Lo wrote this at: 4:15 PM:.
...
::H e l s i n k i
To the land of the Grand Duchy of Finland.
Outbound flight: Helsinki - Amsterdam, 14 July 2006
KF835
14 July 2006 15:50, Helsinki, Finland (Helsinki, Terminal 2)
14 July 2006 17:35, Amsterdam, Netherlands (Amsterdam)
.......................................................................
Passenger details
.......................................................................
Ms LAURA BELTRAN (adult)::
.:Lo wrote this at: 9:03 AM:.
...
::2 Juin 1988.
Sabía desde hace algunos días que día era hoy sin necesidad de mirar el calendario.
Lo que no sabía es que se pudieran cumplir tantos en tan poco tiempo.
::
.:Lo wrote this at: 10:04 AM:.
...
Road Trippin'
Do eyes from an ninety-year-old see more than those from an nineteen-year-old just because of the fact that they have seen more?
Do young eyes have more appetite? Are they hungrier?
Do you smell at that age even more?
do you feel more because you have felt more? does experience in feelings make you feel better than the real thing?
answers don't come from the heart, he's the one asking those questions.
Because No aspect of our mental life is more important to the quality and meaning of our existence than emotions that come from experience...and you? are you experienced?
Description: Road Trippin, Conquest of S c a n d i n a v i a
Location: Rotterdam-Haarlem-Hamburg-Kobenhavn-Malmö-Stockholm-Helsinki-Amsterdam.
Priority: high
Stage: preparing to launch.
Budget: low
Company: high-fi. First class colombo-finlandés.
Duration: from June 30th till July 14th.
Xtraäs: Don't expect me for dinner. Festivals- Photography and Adventures in the North.
A bientôt.::
He came with the queen, unexpected, unusual, unforgettable. Like Peter, peter pan.
Liefde is een ernstige vorm van dronkenschap.::
Orange made juice.
This is the time to talk about soccer.
The Dutch.
Fala portugues?
The portuguese.
Orange made juice.
00:00 0-0
The dutch have been known for beeing a strong team but never enough to take the cup to the lowlands and crap! it happens again.
Strangely laboured opening, shit, Van Bommel... and Ronaldho, filho, you must be considered doubtful honey, after limping of with that injury.
Not working... yellow.
yellow.
yellow and the russian is getting on my nerves.
00:23
Maniche, the one moment of real quality. Ball past Van der Sar. it's 1 for them nada for us.
Costinha!! Rojo. over. done.
it's now 10 agaisnt 11.
45:00. Break.
Boulahrouz... paid his dues. yellow+yellow. out.
and Ivanov is going to make me drink more vodka than usual, the referee, throwing cards around like confetti.
Van Basten never shied away from taking difficult decisions, but he saved the thoughest for the biggest, leaving Van Nistelrooy unwanted by his country.
God. Van der Vaart? nee!
63:00
Yellow... Figo, will get the Fifa as hangover after today's party.
Boulahrouz... red. gone.
10 against 10.
Robben, van Persie threatening onle fitfully with no luck at all. God.
Bier.
Shag.
Bier.
Deco... red. Gone.
Van Bronckhorst... young, short fellow from Capelle. minute 90'. red gone.
9 to 9 men.
6 extra minutes. Fuck they must have given 15!
End.
Remaining of this grudge night?
Nine men as 16 yellow cards and four red ones were brandished.
Portugal drinking porto, looking forward to an even greater grudge match against England,for us the dutch...
is over now.
See you in 2008.
Dit is nou voetballen jongens. Balen!
Pulp Fiction
The Book of Revelations...
I've been amazingly into a particular blog these last few days... Observing that those who live just only one reality would sometimes disappear and those who believe in June 6th, 2006 will never be salvageable. (for you, non Spanish readers, use this, is worth it)
I've repeated this observation numerous times while drinking Himalayas best tea, stealing a glance of the faces of the moon, having a Colombian peche and writing a kind of list of revelations.
The end of the world has come often you know, and it continues to often come. Unforgiving, unrelenting, bringing darkness upon darkness, the end of the world is something we have become well habitualized with, made into a ritual. It's our religion to try to forget it in its absence, make peace with it when it is undeniable, and return its embrace when it finally comes for us, as it always does.
There has yet to be a human being to survive a whole lot of history without at least one end of the world. It is the subject of extensive fake debate whether stillborn babies are subject to the samen revelations...
if we could say that they have live without endings. This debate, of course, demands a close examination of that more profound question: Was the world first created of ended? When the Lord our God... Or my own god breathed on the universe, was that a genesis or a revelation? Should we count those seven days forward of backward? How did the apple taste, Adam? And the half a worm you discovered in that sweet and bitter pulp: was that the head or the tail?
Darling... It was fiction.
Pulp Fiction.::
Let's kill all flashes on regular cameras...shall we? flashes are weapons of mass destruction!
from generation to degeneration.
The only light that should be on is the moonlight. period.
::En cambio, cuando -con la ayuda de la pluma- las palabras son las que paso a guardar, hay muchas que entran rígidas, algunas no caben, otras incluso se parten si las intento forzar... suciedad que queda incrustada en la tela como auténticos borrones que tachan los pensamientos rotos.
Abro y cierro la bolsa con la cremallera de la imaginación, y siempre la llevo colgada dela manija del sentimiento.
Y la bolsa no para de gotear. Rastro indeleble que dejo a mi paso con olor a jazmín, mocaccino y sangre... recuerdos, fantasías y personajes que nunca olvido fuera, por lo que algún día pueda llegar a contar.::
What would you do if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
What do I do when my love is away
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day,
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends...
à la Joe Cocker.
Una imagen dice mas que mil palabras.
mil gracias.
mil imagenes.
muito obrigado.
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Obrigado
Los quiere y los extraña.....
::To the land of the Grand Duchy of Finland.
Outbound flight: Helsinki - Amsterdam, 14 July 2006
KF835
14 July 2006 15:50, Helsinki, Finland (Helsinki, Terminal 2)
14 July 2006 17:35, Amsterdam, Netherlands (Amsterdam)
.......................................................................
Passenger details
.......................................................................
Ms LAURA BELTRAN (adult)::
Sabía desde hace algunos días que día era hoy sin necesidad de mirar el calendario.
Lo que no sabía es que se pudieran cumplir tantos en tan poco tiempo.
::Ik zit tussen nu en ooit, maar nooit was altijd erbij... Siempre a la orden!
Uma noite de música afinada com as harmonias telúricas, vibrações e rítmos... `Se sumergió en la algarabía caliente de los pimpiabotas y los vendedores de pájaros, de los libreros de lance y de los curanderos y las pregoneras de dulce que anunciaban a gritos por encima de la bulla cocadas de piña para la niña, las de coco para los locos, las de panela para Micaela." *El amor en los tiempos del cólera
About L. Beltrán:
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