El escribo


Lejos, más allá de que la mente puede imaginar

Había un planeta que dejo de girar

El lugar donde el tiempo no se puede escapar

Y la luz del sol no se puede acabar,

Sin noches, sin soñar

Solo día, sin terminar…


En este lugar mas extraño vivía un escribo

Maldito a estar siempre vivo

Escribía sobre la vida que no tuvo

Amores que se imaginó,

Un sueño que se desarrollo,

Solamente en su texto

Escrito mil veces más infinito

Con lápiz de grafito

Tantos libros ha escrito…


Hasta siempre sigue así

Como yo pienso en ti



The departure


I stabbed myself today, a deep stab in the heart

To numb the pain away, of having you apart

Looking at the blood, dripping from my chest

I contemplate the mud, the place where I will rest

I grab the knife again and twist it in the wound

I want my life to drain and go into the ground

The only thing I know, the only thing that’s real

The thing I can’t let go, is the pain that I now feel

What have I become, a man without a soul

My time here is done, I’ll crawl into my hole

Going in the ground, my heart will cease to beat

No more beating sound, only bones and rotting meat

Deep beneath the earth, my feelings disappear 

They are only worth, the ending that is near

The only thing I wish, before I rest my eyes

The only one I cherish, the reason for my cries

The only one I know, the only one I feel

To have you in my arms, a dream that once was real





From the happy corner of my soul,  I have made a bubble

It’s fragile but it’s whole, until it begins to crumble…

We knew it was trouble,

That it will all come to be, a puddle of bubble rubble

But we smile and dance to our imminent sorrow

We dance like there’s no tomorrow

As this world comes to an end

I’ll be here to hold your hand

Choose your ending and then

Choose beginning again


From the happy corner of my soul,

I have made a bubble…

I mold it from the puddle and ruble

Of the previous bubble

And now I wait, mark time for it to crumble

The maze


“Grab my hand 

My friend, my lover

Let’s make these times

Last forever


– M. M.”

Today you took my hand and guided me into your maze. This is your most sacred place, which guards over secrets you don’t want to share with anyone. It is not a closed place. It is not locked nor does it have a fence. No one is guarding over it. There’s no need to. All that went in before me, only came to find cold empty walls. I think you saw something in me, this might be the reason for guiding me in yourself. You never did this with anyone before.

It’s not the first time I go inside your labyrinth. I ventured in time after time, ever hungry, ever thirsty for a glimpse of you. I used to go in almost every night after you fell asleep. I haunted each corridor like a restless insomniac. Some mornings you would find me there, lost, sleeping in a corner.

Sometimes I found small rooms filled with tiny marbles. Each marble is a piece of your soul, you told me. Other times I found huge underground chambers, which were dark, cold and wet. Little icy drops were falling from the ceiling. You told me that this is the part of you that always cries.

This time is special. This time is different, I can feel it. You felt it before me. I give into you and walk into your footsteps, gently holding on to your hand which is in turn gently holding on to mine. I stop at the entrance and take of my clothes as a symbol of going in empty and pure. We walk and walk. We keep walking, we go deep. We reach a place where there is no more light, pitch black. You took out a marble from your pocket and the marble started to glow into the dark, almost like a candle. We continue walking until we reach a pit. You tightly grabbed my hand and warned me not to go close as I might get sucked inside. You told me that this is where you keep all the sorrow that I have caused you. My heart starts pounding, my hands are shaking, my mouth goes dry and I immediately start to cry. With every tear I felt a fraction of your pain. Little spears piercing my heart with every heartbeat I took. The more I cried the bigger the pit grew. I wanted to jump inside so I get consumed by my sins but you grabbed my hand harder and took me out. I fell to my knees and asked for forgiveness. You pulled me up and hugged me into your soul.

I am so ashamed that it hurts to look into your eyes. You wipe out my tears and kiss my forehead. “Let’s go, I’m going to show you something else. We suffered enough.”, you said. I smiled and follow you grabing even harder on your hand. After a while we reach a big empty room. To me it all looks like a dead end and for a moment there I think we are lost. “We are not lost silly. It’s my maze, remember? … Come there’s a secret room.” You whisper something which I did not understand and tell me to close my eyes for a second. “Now open them! Voila!”

I open my eyes and the last thing I remember is bright lights and a warm feeling in my chest. I find myself in your bed, wrapped inside your arms.

“What happened?” I asked with a confused look on my face.

“You fainted. You got so overwhelmed that you fainted once you opened your eyes. I think it was a bit too much for you. I know you are curious to discover me, my love. But we both need time. You need it as much as I do.”

Time is all we have, let’s make these moments last forever.



Love is dead


stefan-voggenauer-1912539-835210279839536-2113169045-o.jpgLove is dead. God is dead. When there is no more love there is no God. A gradual decline into disorder. No meaning, just chaos. Random processes of cause and effect, action and reaction, until the end of time. An endless series of events looping to infinity.

Love is dead. Humanity is dead. All there’s left is simulation. The art of simulation, the curse of the living. Let us dance the dance of the dead and indulge in this massacre of the soul. Let us drink the pain and eat the sorrow. Let’s inhale fire and exhale ice.

What’s the point in resisting anyway?

“The universe will expand, then it will collapse back on itself, then will expand again.
It will repeat this process forever. What you don’t you know is that when the universe expands again, everything will be as it is now.
Whatever mistakes you make this time around, you will live through on your next pass. Every mistake you make, you will live through again, & again, forever.
So my advice to you is to get it right this time around. Because this time is all you have.”



The last act


How can I hurt someone who I love so much? It’s a question that will forever haunt me, a loss that consumed us to ashes. Worthless words, typed with numb hands, by a wimpy kid. It’s all I have left, empty symbols side by side which try to cobble together what I feel now. I wish I could rip it out from inside and gift it to you. To burn it if you may…

It’s a dark moment in life when you wish not to be anymore. Just to vanish, *spoof*. Just like that, like nothing happened. To disappear into nothingness. Never to come back, leaving just a memory behind. Leaving all the mess behind, all the people you touched and, of course, all the people you hurt. All the guilt and all the sorrow, all the tears and all the hope, all the despair… Dump all the hate I have for myself into nothing. Becoming NO THING. That would be such a relief… but being a coward is always easier.

Lying is the talk of soulless men. Men with no guts to face the music of life, selfish cowards. I convinced myself to wear a mask, to hide my true face. I chose to walk the path of the weak disguised as a knight in a shining armour. An armour that was supposed to protect me, but I was actually rotting from inside.

When I was seven, my mother left to work abroad. I come from a lower middle class family and that that was a way to build a better future. Although I never judged her for leaving and although in the end things worked out somehow, I was never the same. It was such a hard thing to cope with, this feeling of abandonment, that I created a mask. A persona if you may, which would protect me from ever being abandoned.

This chameleon would change colours and even shape-shift based on every type of social situation. It would to the dirty jobs for me, a sort of internal symbiosis of selfs. It was a good run, so far so good. But what happens when your mask turns against you? What happens when it gets so blurry that you forget who you are? Who am I?

Pealing off this mask which stuck to my face as a second skin, I find this little boy again. The kid who felt abandoned when he was seven. He’s sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, with his head bowed down playing with a stick in the dirt. He looks hopeless and doesn’t even notice my presence. Or he does but he doesn’t care. So I sit beside him, as a sort of camaraderie-ship. At first I don’t say anything as he doesn’t seem to want to be bothered by anything or anyone. So I sit there for a while so he gets used to my presence. I know if I just talk with him and ask him what’s wrong he won’t answer. So I start acting silly. I really do my best and put a lot of effort into it and eventually after some time, I steal a first smile. “Ok, so you can smile.” And then he smiles back again.

He doesn’t know who I am, but I know him very well. He feels downhearted, alone and scared. He’s not easy to show himself to me as he’s afraid that the nice stranger making funny faces might also leave him. So I stick around for a while and play with him. My heart doesn’t allow me to give him a reality check. How could I possibly tell this kid to suck it up. Just give him a shoulder tap and tell him that this is just how life is sometimes.

I see him carving out a mask out of a piece of cardboard. I know what it is for and it’s not just for playing make-belief. It’s something much more special than that. I know, because I had it on my face for such a long time. I know what effect the mask will have on him, but I let him do it anyway. This kid is already heartbroken so I can’t deliver him another punch.

He finally finishes the mask, and tries is on. I looks so good on him, he’s like a new kid. Very cute and playful, not a worry in the world. I allow myself to be fooled by his mask and we play a game of make-belief together. We had so much fun together that we forgot about all our troubles. Now the sun is finally setting and the kid, takes his mask off for a moment, and tells me he has to go home. I hug him and let go. The kid goes home wearing his mask.

Yesterday I looked in the mirror and noticed a crack in my mask. “Hmm, that’s strange… “ I said to myself. “I take such good care of this old thing, how could this happen? … It certainly wasn’t me, so who broke it then?”. But I know who it was. It was you. You cracked my mask. Not by force, you didn’t even have to touch it. It was because for the first time in a long time the kid behind it started to smile. The mask was used only to this sad mould for such a long time and the kid smiled so much that the mask started cracking. I felt like I had to take it off, so I started to gently peal it of piece by piece. Because I had it for such a long time, some pieces were very stuck to my face so I had to rip some of them off leaving traces of blood in the sink. I took a selfie and sent it to you.

You never saw me without the mask before and I feel very vulnerable now that I showed you my true face. I am at your mercy…