pollitos

eras como esos pollitos de colores de los mercados, yo te quería por todo eso que no eras tú.

*

yawn

deseo

deseo:

1.- Sentimiento intenso que tiene una persona por conseguir una cosa.

2.- Cosa que origina en una persona un sentimiento intenso por conseguirla.

3.-  Ganas de tener relaciones sexuales con una persona.

es,

tener sangre en los labios

*

el sol en verano

porque quererte era

el parque 

a las dos de la tarde,

era oler 

el pasto caliente

al sol,

y helados de mango;

quererte era

vestidos de verano

y trajes de baño,

era coca cola

con hielo,

con mucho hielo;

quererte era el sol

en verano 

*

tu forma de ser

Él no lo sabe, pero está loco por ella.

Alessandro Baricco, City

capitán Zissou

THE LIFE AQUATIC

las fresas

gallos

The Age of Silence

The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from people’s hands, nothing we say now that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and wrists. The gestures were complex and subtle, involving a delicacy of motion that has since been lost completely. 

During the Age of Silence, people communicated more, not less. Basic survival demanded that the hands were almost never still, and so it was only during sleep (and sometimes not even then) that people were not saying something or other. No distinction was made between the gestures of language and the gestures of life. The labor of building a house, say, or preparing a meal was no less an expression than making the sign for I love you or I feel serious. When a hand was used to shield one’s face when frightened by a loud noise something was being said, and when fingers were used to pick up what someone else had dropped something was being said; and even when the hands were at rest, that, too, was saying something. Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if casual eye contact was made with one’s lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it to be the gesture, not at all dissimilar, for Now I realize I was wrong to love you. These mistakes were heartbreaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn’t go round with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they’d understood correctly. Sometimes these misunderstandings were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose. Of course I know I’ve always been right to love you. Because of the frequency of these mistakes, over time the gesture for asking forgiveness evolved into the simplest form. Just to open your palm was to say: Forgive me."

"If at large gatherings or parties, or around people with whom you feel distant, your hands sometimes hang awkwardly at the ends of your arms – if you find yourself at a loss for what to do with them, overcome with sadness that comes when you recognize the foreignness of your own body – it’s because your hands remember a time when the division between mind and body, brain and heart, what’s inside and what’s outside, was so much less. It’s not that we’ve forgotten the language of gestures entirely. The habit of moving our hands while we speak is left over from it. Clapping, pointing, giving the thumbs-up, for example, is a way to remember how it feels to say nothing together. And at night, when it’s too dark to see, we find it necessary to gesture on each other’s bodies to make ourselves understood.” 

The History of Love (fragmento)

Nicole Krauss

“Holding hands, for example, is a way to remember how it feels to say nothing together.” 

Nicole Krauss

caos

caos:

vacío desgarrante

*

terrorista

terrorista

1.- del terrorismo o relativo a él.

2.- que comete actos de terrorismo.

terrorismo

1.- forma violenta de lucha política mediante la cual 

se persigue la destrucción del orden establecido o la creación de un clima de temor e inseguridad.

"destrucción"

"temor"

"inseguridad"

todo por ti

que llegaste,

terrorista 

del cuerpo

*

instrucciones de vuelo

aquí

esta noche se está muy bien

son las dos de la mañana,

aquí estás

aquí estoy,

yo entre tus brazos;

...

son las cinco de la mañana,

aquí estoy

aquí estás,

tu entre mis brazos;

...

esta noche se está muy bien

aquí,

entre tus brazos

*

The Genius of the crowd

                                                                                                         Charles Bukowski

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average

human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it

and the best at hate are those who preach love

and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god

those who preach peace do not have peace

those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers

beware the knowers

beware those who are always reading books

beware those who either detest poverty

or are proud of it

beware those quick to praise

for they need praise in return

beware those who are quick to censor

they are afraid of what they do not know

beware those who seek constant crowds for

they are nothing alone

beware the average man the average woman

beware their love, their love is average

seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred

there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you

to kill anybody

not wanting solitude

not understanding solitude

they will attempt to destroy anything

that differs from their own

not being able to create art

they will not understand art

they will consider their failure as creators

only as a failure of the world

not being able to love fully

they will believe your love incomplete

and then they will hate you

and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond

like a knife

like a mountain

like a tiger

like hemlock

their finest art