Trainspotting (quotation)

Choose life. 

Choose a job. 

Choose a career. 

Choose a family. 

Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. 

Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. 

Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. 

Choose a starter home. 

Choose your friends. 

Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. 

Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. 

Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. 

Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. 

Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. 

Choose life... 

But why would I want to do a thing like that?

Point of no return

Circles of corporations swallow me down

there's no place to hide, nowhere to escape

only when I stop and get refuge in you

I am a better man.

Sure as once economy 

was defined by, 

they said, 

the rational distribution

of  supposedly scarce goods, 

they're just too greedy

and now plunged in abbundance.

We're living in the wasteland

no one really cares

as long as they got their chevies

and the life of a rock & roll band.

What's the point of wanting more than you need,

what are you going to do with so much waste

no wonder you always think you need more space. 

What's the point of so much high-technology

if you don't put it for good use?

It's the point of no return for society,

the smallest circle in the middle of the pond

of money and greed, just drowning,

I guess humanity will never succeed.

Let me take you to the water flood
Where you can wash away your tears
If you tell me: “it’s better now”
I’ll just give away for you my fears.

I can hear the silence of the water
Can you wash away my pain and grief?
I believe, despite all you taught her,
She will remain always the big thief.

Can you find me a magnificent willow
So that i can lay down in the shadow?
We’ ll spend all our lives far away
And you’ll see that it’s just like I say.

The walls of madness

Stuck in a full room
with an empty soul
my body decays soon
and my mind went for a stroll.
I can't see the walls
they're closing down on me
as I yell at them to see
that my spirit falls.
All around me
anywhere I look
I see a number that repeats
one-one-one, they say to me
it's in every page of every book
it is when madness speaks.

Beauty lingers...

In the end of the day
I've harvested the sun
with the sapience of an old man.

Her words were as big as her smile
and I touched her hair made of waves
as gentle as the sea
and thought to myself:
have you ever tasted so much beauty?

Wild horses racing in my chest
as my heart felt closer to her,
and her warmth, her scent,
were touching me with soft fingers.

Standing as one, our shadow in the sunset,
reminded me of a picture hung in a museum
named after her and built by me.

When she left, emptiness started crawling in,
and as I watched her leave I thought to myself:
just as the sun rising and setting,
everyday, her beauty lingers.

A heart is just a neighbourhood for Love

My heart has no vacant lots.
Going just around the corner,
I see its many blocks,
I tried to warn her.

There's a quarter for misery and pain,
with hedges of the dimmest stone,
a yard for those out of the game,
and another for the friends who moan.

Just on the right side of this quarter,
there are tall shiny buildings made of glass,
I often go all the way to its border
always bearing the fear of some crash.

The south sections of my crowded heart
are dropping small quantities of blood,
it's a leaking problem of some part
that once in a while sink me in mud.

It bleeds so that I know I'm alive
It's reality conquering from within
needing to remind myself to strive
above all and in my beloved's heart lean.

Life is the starting stand-up comedian that entertains us till Death comes to close the curtain

I despise you all; you hide behind wars and cars, you hide behind desks, you aren't worth the blood in your veins, but I see through your eyes, inside you're a mess!

Let me ask you a question: is your money that good?

Death

The saddest thing about Death is that you won't be able to hug the ones you love.

You won't hear yourself, your thoughts, you won't exist to yourself anymore, it's bye bye conscience.

More than absolute silence, is the conjunction of a smashing emptiness, that, together, portraits an overwhelming sensation of utter inexistence. Something never experienced, for Death is a stranger, that embraces you with an unavoidable hug, and that you cannot introduce to your friends as being someone you've grown a friendship with.

Someone will have to dress your rigor mortis corpse, stiffened and daggering cold.

Someone will see you as you are, only when you are not anymore.

Chewy Words

I'm swallowing words

that are too hard to say

Sometimes I spit them

all at once

'cuz it's hard to keep them.