A song A chord here, a voice there; a poem here, this music inside me. Two or three parts, the rhythm with its ups and downs. The high spirit, the inevitable cooldown. Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. That is the inner song. A parsymony melody with a lot of improvisation at every note. Take your old and rusty instrument, see your inner world, try to play a note... And you will fail. Try again. This time it didn't sound so bad. Great! That was your first note. Now, try to repeat the task for a long time. Failed, successful and boring tones too. Every one of that are vital to achieve the song. The big song. Play it, play it with all your might. Because silence will come. And you will be disappointed that you were not enough brave to play, to sing the song.

Situations An old man with a baby-born on his arms, a toothless smile meeting another one. My empty old granny's chair, there would not be more beautiful stories for me but beautiful memories together. A drunken man, an empty whisky bottle, a photo and a gun. A crying mother and his starving son, both without hope. The business-man coming to an empty house, his wife and his children are unknow people for him. The striper giving her body to a buch of pigs, she is earning money to escape from that world. So many stories, so little time to tell all of them.

Rants 1 Stay here or there? Is there a difference between living here instead another place? You will always be with yourself no matter which place you choose to stay. Mind is its own place, heaven and hell. Difference? Your attitude. Achievement or failure, that are only words to name the lived moment, the experience. I know, I know, I'm stealing another's words but that is the point. Sometimes I look outside my house, outside my city and I find interesting the "truth". "Which truth?" Maybe you are thinking now. An important amount of people think "Oh, yeah boy! I know what you need" Another amount of people think "God, bless you, man! You know what I need" And a few people sometimes think and say "F+*k you people! I know what I need" And me? Well, sometimes the first, sometimes the second and, the third one is tempting too! Cake is also good. I have two left feet, so dancing is out of question. I like to sing but I'm a terrible singer. I'm not perfect, Surprise!!! When I was a kid I wanted to be a bus-driver. I talk to flowers and trees, even rocks too. I like women with glasses and ponytails, I don't know, A fetish? I was in love with an old friend. I loved a girl whom is a boy now. Some things are neccesary to forgive and forgave Maybe I have to learn to Let

The King His land. His wasteland. From hope's ashes to the corpses of his enemies. "Is there still a place that it doesn't belongs to him?" Blame's cape over his shoulders, crown of lies besides him. There's nobody around, nobody to celebrate his "amazing" achievement. Just ashes, skeletons, lifeless red ground and a cloudless orange sky. Alone with his pitiful self, he feels hungry for power more and more of it. An internal desire for enjoy, to destroy. The King needs something new the old toys are boring. Like a black hole, he's drying life and light from this planet. His smoke, his abuse over others, his joy by destroying the beauty. Do you want to know the King? Really? You only need to use a mirror. There, you will find the King.

This night This night. Behind night's shadows. Two guys, a gun, a shot and a flee. This night. Behind moon's light. Two lovers, a bed and millions of butterflies. This night. Behind cigar's smoke. Two unknown people are drinking and smiling. This night. Hand on a crucifix. Praying for food, shelter and less pain. This night. Behind a lamp. A woman is selling her body to maintain her violent owner. The city is sleeping, they are trying to live. This night. A man is calling emergency services with a bloody corpse beneath his feet. This night. A loving couple is cuddling over the sheets. This night. Two unknown people are having their lifetime drunk happiness. This night. God is listening his son's faithful prays and does nothing. This night. A hooker is being beating by her master. Everything is possible on a Saturday night.

Man's tears Sometime ago, an old and wise man told me. "Tears of a man are a high-value treasure" Why? Men, we have been raised to be brave, strong, fearless; a pillar to other's hopes. We were doom to use a mask, a stoic mask, a facade. Behind that stoic face of ours, there is a vulnerable human with hopes, dreams, fears and sins. "You are a boy and a boy must not cry" My dad used to say. Then, why am I feel so devastated? When a hope crushes, when there are so many little bites of an "what if?". What should I do? I don't know. My body is still fighting. My mind stays firm. but my soul is crying. "If a man cry, if man's eyes are pouring salt drops, he's enduring a unbelievable pain. Respect him"

A small talk - Hey, dad! Could you give me a few dollars? - - How much and why should I "give" you a "few" dollars? - - I don´t know, dad. Five hundred dollars perhaps? - - And why should I give you that "few" dollars? - -Oh, dad! There's that book that I want to buy and you know. - - A book, eh? Well. What's the title? Maybe I could buy you that "book" for you - -Oh, no dad! That book it's rare - - Ok, son, I didn't born yesterday, you want that money for something else, now I ask you. What is that "something" else? - - Ok, dad. My girl and I, we had "action" and she is worried about her period, her thinks there's a baby - - Why on earth did you had "action" without protection? Did I don't teach you about dangers about sex without protection? - - Dad, We wanted a real experience.- - A real experience! Do you know what is a real experience too?! There's you carrying a baby born in your arms without nothing to feed him! That's so REAL! - -Dad, we are on new times - -That's true, son. This are new times but stupidness is still there. - - Well, dad. Would you give the money or not? - - GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!- Ladies and gentleman, there was a real conversation in my neighborhood. "Stupidness is on the air. Can you smell it? "

Every time. Every time I see you, a thousand of butterflies are fluttering inside me. Every time our hands are touching, electricity is running through my body. Every time we see each other eyes, the time stops and a new reality is open. Every time we hug, your sweet essence invades my nose. We share an embrace and warm feels so good, so easy, so pleasant. Every time we make love, I feel the ultimate pleasure, pleasure of being with you, sharing my vulnerability our scars. Two gods sharing its temples, celebrating the love, the kindness and the passion. Ascending to skies and then return to earth. Your eyes shinning like two stars, your teasing smile, your so perfect body. We kissed, we hugged, we made love, we cuddled and we slept together embracing our tired but satisfied bodies knowing we share a deep moment, not only animal but spiritual a ritual to love's goddess.