domingo, octubre 24, 2010

What you mean to me

Let me reassure you, I will.
It seems we lost in space, in time, now is just another day.
And letting the days go by, we win in space, in time.
I don't know how to act. No matter how much I try
All I know is you're the one I can't be without.
And this puzzle, I can't hide.
We'll be together in the summer time
Please hold the earth above me, lay down in the green grass.
Wait until tomorrow, wait until next time.
Don't say good bye to me,
we can't hold the feelings which are crossing the brain
So I'll just open the window, and fly away.
You're my lover, I'm your peer.
It's about space and time.
No matter how much I'll try, I'll try and I'll try.
You keep me in mind, there's nothing else in mine.
Just another day telling you what you mean to me.
And you meant for me much more, than anyone I've met before.

Many songs sings the words I want to tell you every morning, every night.
But none of them, sings it all. I don't even know if I can sing them all.

martes, octubre 19, 2010

Nothing is the same after tonight

We can't expect to feel good by following any kind of motto. We grow to obtain the approval of others and the system, but when we try to think different we don't fit in. Maybe there's not such a thing as an objective model of making your life valuable. And that's the point, it has to be meaningful and valuable to you, not to others. So I hope to find and answer being strong about my convictions and my faith.

So the social agreement we made to create a more productive society, really made us reject the power of struggling with ourselves, and accept we can't be and do what we really want, when in fact we just need to want it bad. We created the illusion of just one and only individual in the form of a colectivity, that way we could give up to that responsibility we always feel, but trying to hide it couldn't be the real answer. "You know that you're doing it. You know it's not a good thing. Not doing it would make you feel better. You know that by doing it you won't win anything, or have any fun. You wish you could stop it. You finally manage to stop it, and feel so much better without it. However, you never learn the lesson, and start doing it again the very next day. No, it's not heroin addiction, it's procrastination"

What else besides social and political institutions can show us the human seek for objectivity around the world? Institutions set what we're suposed to be, what we're supposed to have, and how we're supposed to get it. I'm more than willing to transform that with a conscious approach to all kind of knowledge and perspectives, in order to find out my convictions and my faith. In order to face the struggle with myself. I'll try to remember that I need to remember and I gotta fight it.

I see some kind of connection in most of the things we don't usually think about when I think about them, and I know sometimes I can be a little bit confusing. It seems that one thing has led me to another consecutively. I'm about to challenge conventional and traditional beliefs when such beliefs lacked roots in logic and reason. Everything is connected and nothing is the same after tonight.

domingo, octubre 17, 2010


The story can be told in different ways, and not everything we do has the same explanation around the world. If I accept that truth, the question would be: How to explain, in that logic, these group of things we do and we can't explain why we did it? Those things we don't rationalize that we understand as instinct. I've been thinking about how the process of building a relationship, of any kind, is really determined by the way we exchange our experience in the world: the way we speak, the way we eat, the way we do things. It comes to my mind when we were kids and our needs were really basic, but then when we grow up to find new ones already established, there's not much we can do to avoid them. I just think we give more importance to the ones that depends on others believes, than those born from the depths of our being. Sometimes influences are so strong that can even transform what we are and I think that's nice, because it can be determined by the most unusual things, like a talk about the smell and the way we breath, it could get to be really expansive and to me that's just awesome.

I introduced what I'm about to expose this way, because when I don't rationalize things that I do with others and I'm not thinking about the results or benefits I can get, I'm being real. So that's why I wish I could be myself all the time, and I also believe that if your spirit can at least orbit around one single person in the world, that should make you feel blessed. I know I could get many different results from that, but thinking about it before I do anything is just not worth it. I'm not saying people shouldn't have hope; hope is different from calculation. You loose that incredible experience of the unknown, and then you're not surprised by anything because you start to do everything as a machine. I'm not saying that everybody is gonna make a huge impact in your life, I'm not saying that's the way it is supposed to be. I'm just saying that is nice to be willing to accept that, that's all.

When you get the experience of having a first unintentional contact with somebody and after a while you find out that this thing has grown up so much, that is a connection far beyond the boundaries of time and space, you feel alive. Even if some of the things you do in life are mechanical, that tiny little moment of your life gives it more meaning than anything. Fortunately, I've experienced that and thinking about the main subject here, wich is how to understand the things we do without a plan different from instinct, I found out that one of the best and most valuable sources of happiness in my life has been one single moment, with one single person. Wich for sure I would've rejected to live if I would've thought it was right or wrong. Not because I think I can make that statement, just because I would've been confused. Throwing myself into water, I learned to swim. And my confusion didn't even need to be solved. Anything is bad or wrong, is just the way it is. So my next question would be: How can something so beautiful and truthful be born from an impulsive act? and How can I transform the "Follow your instinct" motto to something meaningful?

Well, I've been reading about the "humans have no instinct" subject, in order to find a different perspective, and what I found out is that many people have decided to believe in this while many others don't. One perspective says we don't have instinct, because that's an animal behavior, and humans are different from animals. Another one says everytime we have to rationally choose from an action to other. A third point of view says that what we understand as instinct is really our culture, that we created needs and its logical responses to build society. Instincts become different tendencies to respond in a certain way to an event, whose possible occurence have been thought previously. I'm not trying to give an answer to this question, because I'm more willing to make more questions about it. What I do believe is that we don't need explanations to many of the things we try to explain, so we need to understand that some forces we can't see, we can't explain, but those forces have real impact in our behavior. Those are our real motivations our drive.

Freud's drive theory, is "based on the principle that organisms are born with certain physiological needs and that a negative state of tension is created when these needs are not satisfied." So we practically need needs to have drives, but my entire life I've noticed that we're trying to reduce and solve our needs, so by doing that we're just trying to reduce our motivations. When I imagine a world without needs, I feel it would be kind of boring. But the next second I think that, I remember that my needs could be way different from others, and I also think it could be easier for some people to solve their needs than for others. I have many kind of needs, and some of them I'm not able to solve with money, or any material object. There are so many boundaries, and I've been trying to blur them. So no matter where the situation, the culture, the context put us, if I can get any conclusion out of all this, right now my motto would be just "drive".

lunes, octubre 11, 2010

Exchange the experience

Sometimes is difficult to speak about your most deep feelings because we actually think a lot of things at the same moment, about the same subject, and that makes us feel different about everything.. Different parts of us speak together and the things we think can easily change. We fabricate the image of what we are so the few people that stand us don't get tired of us, and it's sad becouse sometimes we're so afraid to be rejected, that we keep most of the things we'll love to tell the world about, to ourselves.. Or maybe we're just shy, we're all the same. More than one person in the world is asking the same thing as you.. We are all connected.. We don´t have to create ourselves to others, we just have to share it. Say the world: I'm here, that's all.

The first time I missed someone for real, I had this feeling of losing something inside of me, I felt like it was never gonna be the same.. And I was wrong, the feeling didn't went away, it became stronger because it was real.. I started to share it, without any other idea but being true to myself, not just trying to get along with someone or be accepted. The response is never known, we can believe many things but we're never gonna be sure. The answer must be in the attempt. So I believe in change as a way of transforming who we are, and I believe that if I'm willing to share that I'm not different, that I feel the world in this way or another, others are willing to do the same. So we don't have to be haters if we're willing to accept that fact, nature connects us in such unbelieveable ways.. that just blurs the picture and reveals what is hidden..real time will never get us..

I'm far of trying to be selfish about this. At the very beggining of the story, this issue is really showing us the question about how to start sharing what we are, and how to let go the idea of trying to build role models in society. This is at least, a question about the individual aproximation to cultural imperialism. But, why will I say something like this? How the hell is this related to the personal growth bullshit I just talked about?

First point, something I heard this morning:"humans have no instinct" Well, I get a little bit confused since I've always thought about instinct like something more or less similar to the knee jerk reaction, properly called the patellar reflex. An automatic response to something, and this automatic response happens to be involuntary, unintentional. So there I found the answer to my confussion. Because if the second one is unintentional, having no meaning in the field of consciousness, the other could be located on the oposite side. Then I found out that instinct has this properties: is common to all species, is a form of adaptation, is complex, wich means is a process with several steps to be made, and has a global meaning that compromises all the organism.

Second point, related to the one and only property that I'm interested in: instinct as a form of adaptation. Differents aproximations to the understanding of humanity have agreed that in order to replace some biological shortcomings, that makes us unable to live in nature in the primitive way that it was given to us, humans developed the ideas that supports what we understand as instincts today, the well known instincts of survival and reproduction. These ideas made possible the triumph of civilization.

Third point. "Humans have no instinct" Asuming the risk of being deterministic, I must say that I believe the triumph of civilization stands in the biggest lie ever.. If we think about it, survival is not the natural instinct of helping the members of my specie. And let's avoid the topic of reproduction, because I truely believe I don't have to explain how people are having their sexual relationships nowadays, is not the result of this instinct. The idea of cooperation for the development of a social group really hides a dependence relationship that we created because we are not able to survive counting only on us. This could be the explanation for the different ways of understanding the social behavior of each culture.

Fourth point. Cultural Imperialism is a way to go back in time and convince people they're not able to do it their way. Too many time has passed since we got here, and that's a fact. But still some time remains to us, no to fight against what we already are, but to understand we can always transform ourselves. We are sons of this civilization and there are many good things we've taken to the growth of our souls, and in others we can also find our answers. So please, don't accept the fact that your culture is the right one, don't try to change someone who believes in a different spiritual guide, don't try to impose a way of seeing and understanding the world, because when we start repeating a lie and we repeat it many times, we are going to end up believing.

Bottom line:
This is not just personal growth bullshit, is just the truth that I want to believe by now..

miércoles, octubre 06, 2010

Rid of me

I don't wanna make a big deal out of this..but I'm not different, I'm just another normal regular girl, who happens to be delightful to a few people and hateful to others..But that's not important, since the few people make a huge difference and impact in my life, I don't need to pay atention to the haters, I don't wanna know them and I couldn't care less about them..But you see.. that's kind of like the root of my question.. If I, as a delightful character to few people, started to think what can explain the existence of the haters, I'll be truely seeking for an explanation about something everybody knows but tends to forget.. We're no different, so what can explain the existence of the haters, are we all haters? I know I can be annoying making all this questions, a part of me believes that there's no reason to write something like that. I mean everybody has the right to think what they like, but me.. I'm not different.. The other part really likes to discover a new me every day..

I used to play the cello, and I played in an Orchestra, I left it when I started my career but I remember that I loved to play.. I mean I never ever knew how good or bad I was, but I loved it. I truely enjoyed the feeling of creating sounds using that beautiful instrument, and yesterday I had this weird dream about it: I went back to the orchestra one day and there was much more people than when I used to go, so I said hello to the director and he asked me to join them. I took my cello with me and when I put it out, I noticed the strings were broken so I tried to fix them but it was imposible, so he told me to use another one since they were waiting for me to start the rehearsal. Well I took the other one and I broke the strings, I was so sorry about it, I mean I was kind of like crying, when I started to do something, trying to fix the strings they became fabric strips.. at that point I was aware I was dreaming, but I didn't want to know what happen next so I decided to wake up..

I've been thinking about that dream a lot, and I feel that I'm afraid to know the truth about myself, and I think we all are.. that's why it's kind of difficult to think about what it would be like to live with ourselves, with our truth. We fabricate the image of what we are so the few people that stand us don't get tired of us, like we do.. And by creating that image we just have a display, no more.. So I think maybe, since we create ourselves to others, we're really hating on us, and that's kind of sad.. I didn't want to know what was next in my dream, because I know what is next, I'm living it.. I just didn't want the other part of me to remember it, I was just hating on me..

So what? we choose to believe in the inventions we create, and everybody does it, I'm not different.. But why is it so difficult to create ourselves for ourselves, not for others? that's my real question.. Life is mine to create and when I choose to believe what I am, I'm really chosing which part of me is going to be the lead character. I think we shouldn't feel the other part different from us, we just have to accept who we really are in order to find who we can be.. I began to write this because I've been thinking about my life as a story I created. And I worry I can lost my memory, because everything I do stands on my memories, everything that I believe in, all the people that I care about, and all the things that allows me to be the way I am. Well thinking about this I understood that this things I've mentioned are not what I am, this things are the result of what I've been living. Chaplin put it this way: "we shouldn't be afraid to confront ourselves, even the planets collide and from chaos stars are born."

lunes, septiembre 27, 2010

Making solid air

We better laugh and leave our body for a while.
When you do, you're not coming back..
How can you handle it?
How do you realize you've fallen?
because you're human, one of a kind.

I remember how you looked..
that night at the hall..
it never went away..
human after all..

How can you be here and there?
One day you'll see again..
the moon owns a secret smile
the rivers and the mountains holding us.
Holding us..

The cold in our hands.
We can always steal some heat..
After a while we'll be
freezing time again..
Making solid air,
Humans after all

That day time will see us realign
I'll be able to tell the story
of a cocrodile using a pair of spectacles,
making sure to laugh, once and for all..

sábado, septiembre 25, 2010

4664 Km

Algo me dice que mientras más nos pongamos a buscar razones lógicas para vivir, menos equilibrio encontraremos al poner los pies sobre el suelo en las mañanas. ¿Cómo sabemos que estamos despiertos? A veces tenemos los ojos abiertos, pero no estamos viendo nada. Yo no quiero buscar razones lógicas para vivir, no quiero despertar y saber qué voy a hacer. Puedo escuchar una canción muchas veces el mismo día y sonreír. Puedo ver a los ojos a un niño y sentir más pena que al mirar a un cura luego de confesarme. Puedo entender que necesito razones para vivir, pero también puedo entender que esas razones sean muy absurdas. Tan absurdas como querer ir a un lugar sólo por escuchar los silbidos de la gente, o como extrañar el aire de un lugar. Tan absurdas como escuchar la voz de alguien que te llama sin hablar. Tan absurdas como ser la persona más feliz del mundo si me regalan una flor. ¿Cuando estamos lejos de verdad,cuando nos vamos o cuando tenemos todo de frente y lo dejamos pasar tan rápido, llenando con pilas de hojas en blanco nuestra memoria? ¿No nos hemos ido ya?

Yo no sé, pero yo me voy...

Hay un lugar donde voy a encontrar a alguien que he estado buscando desde hace tiempo. Alguien que me va a decir cómo fue el día que conocí el mar. Quiero conocer a la persona capaz de decirme cuál fue el primer carro que vi y de qué color era, cuando fue la primera vez que me caí. Seguramente esa persona sabe si lloré o me levanté y anduve otra vez a correr. Si puede, que me diga cuál fue mi primer sueño. Qué fue lo primero que pensé cuando vi a un perro, ¿Cuántas cosas de las que un día tuve certeza he olvidado? ¿Cuántas que he aprendido olvidaré? ¿Cuántas todavía me falta conocer?

Muchas, pero igual me voy...

¿No es lo más natural que un hijo viva con sus padres? Es natural durante un tiempo, después la calma se acaba y el circulo empieza otra vez. Después comienzas a extrañar, pero al mismo tiempo olvidas y aguantas el dolor hasta que pasa. Alguna vez escuché a alguien decir que cuando uno se va debe dejar pasar mucho tiempo para volver, porque al poco tiempo todo va a estar igual. Si uno se va y no se convierte en alguien es mejor no regresar, y en caso de que te conviertas en alguien tampoco. El lugar que dejaste va a seguir igual. Los mismos silbidos, el mismo aire. También escuché que "no se extraña un país, se extraña el barrio y los amigos. Tu país son tus amigos y la patria es un invento".

Me voy porque sé que para todo hay una primera vez, y me quedan muchas primeras veces para todo. Me voy porque me gusta tener razones absurdas y no rebuscar razones lógicas, cuando las primeras saltan a la vista. Aunque sea sólo la mía. Un montón de cosas evidentes, que encuentran en lo absurdo su más perfecta lógica, entre otras que dejan a muchos invidentes... Una razón absurda es un mes que fue un día de dos noches, y se convirtió en un par de años. Una razón absurda es viajar sin maleta. Una razón absurda es encontrarme después de haberme ido.

4664 Km y estoy ahí...Ahí.

lunes, agosto 30, 2010


At this point I’ve written a lot of things I usually prefer not to say personally. Maybe because I get mad at myself I always say I won’t say a thing like that to anybody, and at the moment you come into the picture I quit. I guess I’m a liar and I do melt for someone. But right now I’m kind of freezing, if you know what I mean. Last year I wrote 99 notes, by august I already had 68, this year I haven’t write that much, same month and I only have 38. I’m freezing, because of that among other issues I have going on my mind. Once someone really special to me asked me “Why do you write so beautiful hey?”… I respond almost immediately… “Your fault”… That same night, I though “What the hell did you just happened to say?”… I mean, you have to be crazy to reveal yourself just like that, immediately… Well the truth is that I did long ago. So yes, almost all that notes I wrote are connected with you special someone. About 80 of that notes are definitely your fault. I revealed myself at the same moment I let myself be taken by that weird feeling of connection we own. I was writing long ago, but I feel like it was born yesterday.

Right now I’m traveling incognito; I want to make the path and I want to make it mine, because I know there must be some way out of here, because thanks to that special someone I got to realized it’s so hard to be mad when there’s so many beauty in life, and life is too short to be pissed of all the time. It's just not worth it. Half of the way I’m dreaming in my so called reality, day after day, after day, after day. And the other half I’m dreaming with the beautiful ideas, people made me think couldn’t be real at all. Guess that means I’m a part time dreamer it makes me happy to feel you’re fulltime. I don’t necessarily have to be dreaming to be awake with you; we can either be dreaming or just looking at each other through an imaginary hole. And we find ourselves together and that is just incredible. Guess that's the best dream in the history of dreams; I haven’t met many spectacular people in my life. In fact, I don’t want to go chase any spectacular people I can possibly met, because I’ve learn so many with a few, that I imagine my brain would not take that amount of greatness and it can explode. And that is really not my ultimate wish, so… No, but seriously, I love the way special moments tend to happen with you not even being aware that you are about to live such unexpected experience, that kind of connection always remembers me how we’re all connected trough nature, and why nature reminds me of you.

I think there’s a story behind things, and we have an ocean of time to get into those stories. That’s why I like to write this much; I don’t know how far will these words go, but I feel like they’ve traveled with us for so long. That feeling helps me remember I need to remember. At those moments I’m trying to get away, you come into the picture again to remind me beautiful songs that sound just perfect to me. Do you remember how we let pass quite an amount of time to really communicate, guess we were shy. I had a lot of questions inside my head, some of them still remain. Do you still dream? Why is it so important for us to dream? Sometimes I remember you telling me the stories of your dreams, and I miss you more than any. Then I think we had our time together, and it’s time for me to let it go. Everytime I close eyes. I have too learn not to cheat, but it´s hard being blind. It's so damm hard. I can’t.

I'm seeing a special sunshine with an orange and yellow glow. I like to talk with you about time. I remember you called me and I went. I still think that time is rare. I heard you went away and I cried. But then I thought I was a bit silly because in this life we don’t own anything, we don’t own anyone. We know everything and know nothing. The more we know, the more we need to learn. I don’t know which door I'll leave if right or left. I don’t know if that's important. Don’t know why I cried. But I cried. Some days I want to do many things I want to be a clown, I want to play with ants, and I want to make bracelets. I want to travel by skateboard and learn to ride a bike. Some days I don’t want to do anything I don’t want to write, don’t want to talk, don’t want to eat, don’t want to change the world. Today I'd just like to give you a present. I just don’t know what it could be. I want to give you an easy monocycle, chocolate cookies with caramel on top of several layers. A crystal ball, a severe vibration, and a white noise. But I don’t know if I managed to get there. I’d give you a ladder into space, eyes with fingers or fingers with eyes. I send all my draws or I send you a batman costume with new measures. I could give you a kiss or maybe the incomparable view of the aircraft. I can also give you a camera so you can see the album of my head and an SD with unlimited capacity to store all your memories.

I know! I'll give you a cat or a falcon that fly and return to you when you call him. I can also give you a phone with no buttons that dials each time you think of someone you want to talk. I will make a hat built-in 360° vision superstar golden pro supernova elite diamond class to see the starry sky at dawn. I can invent a window with pretty lights to wake you up and make the day begins when you want. I'll give you a trip to Australia so the whales sing to you or headphones so you can listen to aliens again. Also, I would like to give you a diving course and a jack of my cello. A necklace for Eva, a wallet. Flowers lying on a roof. A bed in the clouds. A portable house. A little cabin on the beach. I'd love to give you a journey into a fly or an octopus. I would give you one eternal day road to the lighthouse at the end of the world. I can give you a bracelet. I can give you a lot of balls that one day I learned how to do or a book that I found on a bus. I can save some money and buy a return ticket for you; I can save some money and buy me a one way ticket. Right now I have no money and it doesn’t matter because I know I'm there. You taught me to see in 3D and right now I'm seeing you. I don’t think anyone else can fix our eyebrows today, so we’ll keep our rebel 'cachitos' until we meet again on a happy day juggling at the street. When you thought I could be there for you, it was you who was there for me. Those days that passed without knowing you were there, are nothing compared to those I've seen you. I have in mind the idea of seeing you again, walk again and dance with people and together. It's just an idea about seen our large bodies, elongated by time, when in fact we are going to be children, and old people at the same time. I've always thought you're going to be a very wise man, one of those who barely speaks but everyone wants to listen, and still you're going to be a child. You'll have gray hair, but you will always be a child. I mean, there you have it in your eyes. And your look doesn't look like anyone elses and is not the eye color you have, not how big or how small they are, no. It is your look, your look, your way. You have a way to smile with your eyes so pretty, I mean it...really pretty. You have a child inside. When I look at you I almost feel I can see how you where, because you still are. And everytime I close my eyes, I wouldn't mind of being blind.

miércoles, agosto 04, 2010

Not alone in being alone

What the hell is happening today?
I'm getting just bad answers or
am I doing the wrong questions?

Clone some day?
Will we travel through time?
Will we ever wake up?

From spiral we come.
Will we break up the divisions?
Yesterday, we were others.
Who are the savages now?
We all are. Let us break the divisions.
So many directions for us to go.

Clone some day?
Will we travel through time?
Will we ever wake up?

lunes, agosto 02, 2010

Fucking Pretentious, Handsome, Spoiled Boy

It was not at night,
but it was so.
Comfortable, slowly fast.
Tender and determined.

It was not at night,
but at the time it was.
A black and white scene.
Stayed sweet, while dawn offered a regret.

It was not at night, but it was so.
And it was an amazing night.
No regrets at all.

The way you're supposed to

Far. cold winter outside.
Close battle against gravity.
Near. See the beggining of the end.

My eyes blinking tonight.
My nightmares advice:
Stay awake, don't close your eyes.

Am I goin' out tonight?
I might, I might not.
I don't know. Why?

Feeling so far, far away from here and there.
Not in tune right now.

viernes, julio 30, 2010


Sea waves sound quite perfect to me.
I feel so alive when I hear them on the rocks.
Now the short waves take me to the deep side.

Way under starlight, I dive.
I look up and I can hear you breathing.
I dream of you and I don't want to wake up.

You told me that dream would never end.
I've noticed something.
My lips tremble when I think of dogs and waves.

I really want to hear that voice again.
Now it feels like we talk yesterday.
Now I hear the rustle of the sea.
You. The stone that I need.

María Fernanda Núñez Sarmiento.

viernes, julio 23, 2010

Gotta stay awake

They'll want to move us to a deserted place.
Far from the constant household noise,
away from everything we have ever known.
But, they just don't know how to fly.

When they find out we know they don't know how,
they'll wait for us to get sleep.
But, we gotta stay awake, we gotta try and dream.

The force of gravity remains,
when they try to take us with them, they can't.
Only together, antigravity appears.
We fly, far away.

martes, julio 06, 2010

One day I decided to start over

At the end of the road she'll realized she wasn't what she thought she was. A tourist in this world. A vagabond. A fool. What it gets to get, it's no more than an open mind. A little bit of this and that.

At the end of the road what it goes in the middle of attraction and reaction, it's just something like the spontaneous feeling of action. An unintended act, materialized by a unique type of action shows no more than an unintended way of living.

At the end of the road there's no need to live waiting for someone else to go and fight our own battles. This world is not only a place to stay. And the answer is not
always isolation. We start to isolate ourselves from others in order to keep everything for us.

At the end of the road a lonely and silent final seems to be appropriate. What a better way to promote isolation than in a place where the light seems to fight against shadows all the time? Trying so hard to protect us from ourselves.

One day she'll find a new way to start over. Right now everything seems so enlighted and clear. "Get a degree. Get a job. Get married. Get a life".

Maybe not at the end of the road she'll see, and ask them
What about getting a road of my own?

A little bit of this and that. Balance. Discipline. Madness, delusion, frenzy. Fertility and thought.Sensitivity to nature. Perspective. Vision. Passion, joy, calm.



Tengo una noche
perdida entre recuerdos.
Ya no sé cuando fue.
Ayer, creo que hoy... tal vez.
Y llega, y se pierde... no sé.

Quiero verte aquí.

Por la mañana, decirte adiós.
Y por la noche llevarte al mar.
Hacer fuego y bailar,
sin mover los pies, caminar.

domingo, junio 27, 2010

One day at a time

Ours, could be a different sort of story
How long until tomorrow?
How long until next time?
Letting the days go by,
One day at a time.

I don't know if ever is a long time,
but when you leave, don't look back.

Don't worry, I'll take the wheel,
I won't turn away, you taught me to fly.

We'll get there.
Letting the days go by,
Once in a lifetime.

domingo, junio 20, 2010

Em silêncio

O mundo gira, e estou sentindo.
O céu apresenta, mas não estou tão perto.
A água nos chama, e nós vamos.

Eu não sei como parar de ser egoísta
e lhe dizer como me sinto.
Mas eu prefiro não dizer mais
e sentir tudo de novo em silêncio.

miércoles, junio 16, 2010


O tempo é longo quando se espera
e é pequeno quando você vive.
Não vou ouvir ninguém me dizer
Estou perdendo.

viernes, junio 11, 2010


Hoy volví otra vez ahí,
mis pies me llevaron hasta allí.

Y te ví,
llegando a una esquina.
Te ví sentarte en una banca.
Te ví abrazarme y despedirte.
Y te ví.

No son recuerdos de recuerdos
lo que veo cuando te veo.

No quiero dejar de verte.
No siempre mirar el pasado
nos deja sin futuro.

miércoles, mayo 19, 2010

Is this some kind of creepy joke...I'm not under any kind of influence but that's how I'm feeling. This is not my body, my hands have fallen in the sky and my eyes are dancing on the living room table. I don't want to go or stay. I can't find myself and I'm not lost. I love the skin I'm wearing, but I rather wear some shirt and jeans. Poor little rabit kid, he wants to find a black hole to get into his world and never come back. My eyes found it, and I don't know if they're planning to wake up. So my fingers ask if I've forgotten what I came here to do, they tell me: "you are not writting any more so who is doing it for you?".

María Fernanda Núñez Sarmiento.

sábado, mayo 15, 2010


Tengo una ola dentro del cuerpo
y no golpea ninguna roca.
Tal vez es la lluvia que me ha caído
o la que me he guardado.

Ella vuela a la puerta de tu casa,
Ella vuelve a sentarse en tu cama,
Ella siempre está contigo.

Una vez en la vida.
O una vida.
O una hora.
O un minuto.

Bailaron enredados en las cuerdas de la calle.
Escucharon conversaciones musicales:
primero de mis ojos, después de estar conmigo.

Te digo que te voy a dejar,
pero al final te envío sonidos con un ángel del sur
que nos pone a dormir y soñar con este lugar.

viernes, abril 23, 2010

Los colores de las cosas

Hay colores que no se entienden. Hay colores de las calles que no entiendo. Cuando veo bolsas de basura que no lo son, no veo un color. No puedo decir que es negro brillante como el de las bolsas plásticas. No puedo decir que sea marrón como las rejas oxidadas. Solo veo piernas, brazos y cabezas oxidadas por la calle arropadas con el negro brillante de esas bolsas plásticas.

domingo, marzo 28, 2010

Tú, una ola tú

Un caballito en el mar.
Todo verde en el mar.
Nieve amarilla, tú.

Una montaña arriba.
Una cabañita de colores.
Un día que no llegué.
Otro que lloré.

Un día junto a tí,
sin que estés ahí.
Corren tus ojos,
corren tus manos.

Te escondes. Te vas.
Una ola viene y se va.

El calor del reino humano.
Pero desde que te fuiste no llegan las olas.
Alguien trajo las olas, y viniste tú.
Compra una cabañita en la casa de las moscas.

No hay nada como tú y yo
cuando las olas llegan,
por el aire y el tiempo.

Te escondes. Te vas.
Una ola viene y se va.

martes, marzo 23, 2010


Me fuí para extrañarte,
me fuí para sentarme en tu cama,
me fuí para estar aquí,
me fuí porque debo seguir.

Mientras estás dónde estoy
me voy con esto y contigo.

Viajaste, volaste.

sábado, marzo 13, 2010

When I was alive

It started one night.
We had no time to fight, but we had time to see.
Hanging from a tree,
it was not too high, but it was green.

See I'm in love with Mary.
But she just doesn't care,
and she laughs at me
like I do from her.

So we love eachother
and we love that day,
even up and down,
we will still be there.

I think I was alive today,
under some influences.
When I feel alive,
I remember your name.

sábado, febrero 20, 2010


En febrero llegó al sur.
Sin palabras,
con promesas de vientos más cargados
de calores y tormentas.

Ella sugirió montañas,
glaciares, rios,
pozos, mares.
Aunque el sur no espera nada
lo que pasa, pasa
y lo que no, tambien pasa.

Sólo siempre el sur.
Y yo con él, camino, respiro y se siente.
Tan solo el camino cuando él se va,
se va y se queda conmigo.


domingo, febrero 14, 2010

Vuelve allá

Salte de ahí.
Mira el sol y la luna a la vez.
Siente la fuerza de las olas en tus ojos.
Un mundo nuevo ahí, mi casita de colores,
mis viajes, mis días, mis noches.

alguien bonito.
y los caminos del viento.
Ahí para mi, para ti.


Yo sentí que algo pasaba aquí,
yo pensé en mí, en mi viaje.
Soy como una mosca.
Una mosca teje su propia red
y se muere enredada en ella.

Vi el color de las hojas,
el color de las flores,
pensé en tí y lo sentiste.

El fuego nevaba, la nieve ardia.
Los trabajos de tu mente
y los retiros necesarios.
Pero la historia no me enreda, no me ata,
me desarma, me vuelve otra.


Creo que los sentidos se olvidaron de recordar las razones,
Creo que mis amigos extraños van por la calle
para decirme que los ojos que los ven no están cerrados.

El alma de tu rostro, tus manos.

Voy a apagar la luz para vernos juntos,
y caminar contigo,
y subir esa escalera.

Mirar por la ventana, ver la nubes
Antes de dormir, estuve ahí.


¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?
¿Qué te pasa?
¿Por qué sigues caminando sin sentido?
¿Quién eres tú?
¿Qué estás haciendo?, ¿Qué estás haciendo?
Sinceramente, ¿Qué demonios te ocurre?
¿Tienes algún tipo de problema mental?

Sí, lo tienes, tienes varios.
Si lo tienes, eres un caso perdido.

(Making a rooftop concert)


Well it seems that you're standing in front of me, waiting for some words...
I'm going to take my time and I'll wait.
Ocean in your eyes, I'm not saying goodbye.

I'll travel in a time that never ends.
One silent observer takes my mind,
being together,
being better,
being one.

The ilussion of not being enough,
a self restriction to the infinite possibilities
of your freedom and the fact that you have all inside.
Heaven is not far from you, wake up.

Imagine and travel to the center of that beautiful universe.

sábado, febrero 13, 2010

Como la otra vez ahí

Me fuí a donde estabas
a ver si te encontraba otra vez.
Aunque ahí, a la derecha estabas.

Es un vistazo, un parpadeo,
mientras no ves, mientras esperas.
Crees que se te acaba el tiempo,
no sientes que respiras.
Los otros no se ven
mientras caminas,

Tus ojos se han cerrado.
Pero paras, y de nuevo
ese parpadeo imaginario
de los dos, uno.

lunes, febrero 08, 2010


Las nubes me acompañan y camino volando
si tuviera que caerme todos los días,
por ver esto lo haría.

Y levantarme,
y ver tantos soles verdes,
y gotas de agua,
y colores.

Las nubes me acompañan.

Somos tan pequeños,
y somos lo que siempre pensamos que fuimos
y mientras más lo pensamos, menos vivimos.
La vida que es de la montaña,
que a ella va y en ella habita.

Sus sonidos son el agua en tantas formas,
Las luces verdes la alumbran y la adornan.

Y yo me siento tan pequeña,
cuando cambio y vuelvo a nacer.
Otra vez, mi primera vez.
Cuando me cae el agua
y mi tronco se desvanece.

Y sigo viva,
y camino por la montaña.
Camino por la montaña,
aunque ahora parezca asfalto.

María Fernanda Núñez Sarmiento.

sábado, enero 30, 2010

Living for those days

When you come and hold me,
and I tell you I've missed you
I missed you before I met you.

Living the lies of everyday
to finally be, in no time and space.

Living for those days,
waking life
finding myself, and seeing you.

I see you,
but living for those days
is the most difficult thing I'll do

Just because I know...
It's you.

miércoles, enero 27, 2010

Songs of freedom

Let me tell you people there's no need for lies, I've already understood how this thing works, and the fact that everybody follows that pattern doesn't mean you should expect the same from me. Don't try to convince myself.

Your life is yours to create.

I've found that special someone who doesn't need anything from me, but is still with me; everywhere, everytime. That special someone who made me see the world trough my eyes,

You don't need me,
you don't love me,
but you know...

It's better when we're closer.

lunes, enero 25, 2010

Me voy

Todo el tiempo de mi mente,
en mis sueños verdes,
en los pasos que doy por el cielo,
mis pies sobre el aire,
para que sea siempre.

Si tu me llamas,
vengo y voy,
estoy mejor.

Cada vez que veo por la ventana,
cuando las nubes se acomodan
y hacen figuras de todo y de todos.

Si tu me llamas,
tu sabes,
yo voy.

Seguirá extendiéndose,
sin satélites, sin señales.
Llamadas desde adentro.
Todo adentro.

Si tu me llamas,
me voy.

domingo, enero 17, 2010


La noche se roba el tiempo
se mueven las palmeras
y el agua de lluvia que no cae
nos moja, nos toca.

En una hoja, una gota.
En el camino;
cantos, bailes,
cuentos, sueños.

La noche nos roba el tiempo, otra vez.
No se acaba, no me despido.