┼פ[Atares]¤×┼

Quiero dormir profundamente
Quiero abrir los ojos y quedarme ciega.
Quiero quemarles con mi mirada.
Quiero mandarle a la chingada y decirle que le amo.
Quiero matarlos a todos, quiero que me maten.
Quiero arrojarme al fondo de un desfiladero, quiero subir una montaña.
Quiero decirte que te vayas al demonio, aunque no sepa quien eres o que haces leyendo esto.

Quiero manifestar mi odio hacia todo en general y nada en concreto.
Quiero destruir. Quiero matarte.

Quiero arrancarme el corazón, dejar de sentir.

Quiero que se atrevan a curarme.
Quiero que levantes los ojos cuando te hablo, quiero que me mires.
Quiero que veas la verdad que ostento.
Quiero engañarte para que no me quieras.

Quiero querer de verdad.
Quiero dejar de querer.

Quiero matarme.
Quiero que me dejen en paz.
Quiero decirle que le amo, que se largue de mi vida, que se pudra junto con todo lo que siento.
Quiero que no dejen de insistir.
Quiero que me enseñen.
Quiero que me importen.
Quiero importarles.

Quiero dejar de tener miedo.
Quiero una razón para quedarme.
Quiero crear.
Quiero creer.

Te quiero a tí.

Quiero lo que quiero y no quiero esperar.

Quiero abrir mis ojos y verte frente a mí.
Quiero que cierres los ojos mientras me desvanezco.

Quiero querer que quieras querer.

┼פ[Fiercely devoted to Tear II]¤×┼

Día 06

...empezó lento y pesado...
a la mitad la euphoria...
en el transcurso la impaciencia...
al final la mezcla...

cuarto paso...
desconozco el terreno que piso.

Día 07

....domir sin soñar, despertar sin vivir...
oscuro ambiguo andante...
ausencia doliente circundante...
recaída nimia en pensares...
desconozco el terreno que piso.

Día 08

...una remembranza vieja y novedosa...
alcohol y sangre...rojo y amarillo...
vuelvo a mi ser... perdido tanto tiempo...
me voy reencontrando... y aún
desconozco el terreno que piso...
y quiero que me tome de la mano aquel,
que me arrastre y me haga entrar incluso a donde temo,
pues mi finalidad es aquel, a quien mi reino pertenece.

Día 09

más alcohol, quimicos a mi alrededor
tarde callejera...
pensamientos certeros, temores fundamentados...
a ver que ocurre el día que sigue...


Día 10

Ira - Coraje - Decepción - Recaída


Día 11

Prácticamente lo contrario del día anterior.
La pintura se llevó la ira contenida...
llegó él... y más que cariño me fue mostrado esta vez...


Día 12

Me dispararon, se suspende este "diario" hasta nuevo aviso.

┼פ[Fiercely devoted to Tear]¤×┼

Escucho música sin oir nada... La voz de lo muerto me incita al vacío, la llama que arde no quema mi piel y tú ignoras como a tu sonrisa ansío en el cáliz colmado con nuestra hiel. esque tu carne me mantiene helada...

Día 00
Ira - Tristeza - Culpa - Ansiedad - Confusión - Aceptación - Intento

Un par de besos

Día 01

Hoy comenzé a ver diferente, me levanté con un miedo ancestral.
Esa clase de miedo excitante.

Cómo cuando se es pequeño y comienzas a andar solo por las calles.
Das un paso y luego otro, como la primera vez, te vas.

El primer columpio a solas, trepar por tubos, abrirse la cabeza.
Raspones en las rodillas, piel separada del cuerpo.

Día 02

No estuve tan dispuesta a trepar hoy, aún tengo miedo.
Estoy cansada, me absorbe el tiempo, me frustra el silencio.
Al menos escucho música en mi cabeza sin siquiera oír nada.

Día 03

Miedo, ansiedad, nerviosismo...
...primer paso... y no sé a donde me lleva...

Día 04
Divergencia, partición, estado elevado...
Segundo paso...¿Voy bien?
Cariño me fue mostrado, sonrisa inéquivoca del reflejo extraño del sentimiento anidado.
Cien besos de intercambio

Día 05

Fugaz sonrisa del rostro nebuloso que ostento.
Aún miedo.
"Estoy harta de la inercia recurrente del indicio contundente del idilio que adormece la torcida y cruda vida que a mi alma dio la herida que conduce inminente a la tortura reincidente del fuego ardiente del amor"
...tercer paso... me tiebla el pie...

┼פ[...reminicences]¤×┼

It's been a while since my last post...
i've been more and more absent in the world.



I'm just gonna let me die now... i don't see any meaning and any reason.



I dont' want to be the monster that i used to be...
that hideous being... with no feelings, no concerns, no one to care about, no one for hold on, no one to believe...



Yes... this past year... i rediscover feelings, and it hurts me in all kind of ways...
It hurts me 'cauze i'm to intense and pasionate in my doings...



i quit painting, writing, singing, sports, i've even quit to my beloved guitars, and my sword...

I can do werever the hell i want, with no efforts.. no sacrifice.. no nothing...

Empty success.

People used to came to me for the things i can do...
and i hate it, i really hate it... still i hate that...

But... there i found a few ones who doesn't care what can i do, and only like me... for me... my madness... my being... they don´t care about my letters, about my paintings.. about nothing... that was great for me...

and i started to value people... not all of course...

I even love someone... and that is the most painful thing i've found in this world...

My mind is broken at this point...

Facing another death of a loved one, traition of my beloved "almost-ten-years-friends", the same problems in house for more than two decades, pression at work..being stressed all time.. i have no safe-place... not even my own mind...

i'm so tired, bored.. i'm useless...

i used to need anyone, to love anyone, to care anyone...

But now i value a few people...
and i want to stay for them...

i'm falling in a depressive spiral in my so much beloved madness...

i know, that my mind is in a bad state rigth now, and i know that my perception is very distorted...

I need those people but i feel that i don't care to the ones i care... so i kept the silence... and broken me more...

Time is slow for me... for example if for you it passed a day.. for me... is like it passed 4 or 5 days or maybe more... that's the reason for that i can do many things in a short time... i'm not inspired or motivated like they say... i hate it too

I'm a little bit scared and surprised...

There has been years since the last time i painted in form... but yesterday i started to paint... i go to the storage room and pull out and old piece of wood... (i used to paint in wood a lot), it was the last one... and i started to draw... more and more and more...

Then i made some doodles... even using my rodin watercolors, and my old brushes... it was so strange...

I feel like i was having a "visual overdose" a reminiscence of my old precious Zeigeist... it posses me and drave me more mad... paint... paint... tube after tube... losing my mind between my goauche... inks... watercolors... paper... wood... water... MUSIC







It surprised me... there have been years since i paint before this... and i'm scared...

So scared...
I'm doing things that i quit... in not a renaissement way.. is more like a "let's do things i used to love for the last time before die"

Suicide has not left my mind.

Every dawn drowning my self in tears...
no more blades in my flesh... but it hurts more...

And then.. on weekends he appears, with his lovely smile... and i close more my heart...
i want to tell him!!
but i can't.. i feel i have no rigth to say something...

A few moments ago... i realized that i've always been wronged...
All people always tell me that i was wrong saying something, thinking something, that all me was wrong... my feelings, my tougths, my behavior.. my all...

Do i believe that?

They have told me so many times that i'm wrong that i really believe that now??

I don't care how patetic it sounds...

i need support and help from my loved ones,
but i feel they don't care to help and support me...

When someone hears me saying that... told me... "don't need anybody, did you hear what are you saying?" ... in such a form it sounds that is wrong to need and want somebodys...

Is it wrong??

My mind is getting worse, my body is getting worse.. my full "life" is shutting down..

and i still screaming in silence...

someone will dare... to stay with me?

This is how i look now...

┼פ[from to form or it was form to from??]¤×┼

Las últimas pilas de aquel vetusto polvo acumulado,
el viento sopla dispersando y borrando toda traza de ellas,
hay una ventana, hay una puerta, hay un pozo profundo,
hay un vacío enorme, una oscuridad flotante entretejida,
una aparentemente raída razón brillante y descontrolada,
una tremendamente loca emoción absurda y desconsolada...

The last lots of that ancient dust accumulated,
wind dispersing and removing all trace of them,
there is a window, a door, there is a deep well,
There is a huge empty, darkness floating interwoven,
a brilliant and seemingly uncontrolled rate frayed,
a tremendously absurd and crazy disconsolate emotion ...

古代の最後のトラックは、ほこりの蓄積
風の分散とすべてのトレースを削除する、
そこには、深されている窓、ドア、 、です
巨大なボイドは、暗闇の織り交ぜる浮遊です
制御されていないが、一見輝かしい率、擦り切れた
クレイジースリルとは途方もなくばかげた荒廃...

¿Que podría escribir hoy que no escribí ayer?
¿Podría alguien describir algo realmente nuevo?
O sólo somos rapaces violentos devoradores de palabras...
"Describes...con la precisión de un cirujano"...
¿Recuerdas la no tan lejana noche que me dijiste eso?
¿Entonces porque no haz escuchado los gritos en tu almohada?

What could I write today that I've not wrote yesterday?
Could someone describe something really new?
Or are we just violent raptors words eaters...
"You describes ... with the precision of a surgeon ...
you say that to me that not so far nigth, remember?
So why did you've not heard the screaming in your pillow?

今日私は昨日書いた書き込みができませんでしたか？
何か本当に新しい説明いただけますか？
ラプターズは暴力や言葉だけを食べている...
"外科医の精度を説明... ...
その夜、私に語ったのは、あまりにも遠いことを覚えているか？
だからこれを枕に悲鳴を聞いた？

Es mi voz desgarrada en el silencio atroz de mi garganta,
es tu silencio amargo resguardado en la mínima distancia,
son mis manos que tiemblan abrazando un demonio de humo,
son tus manos que queman desde lejos de mi piel ya muerta.

Is my voice torned in the appalling silence of my throat,
is your bitter silence in the minimum distance away,
Are my hands trembling in the embrace of a smoke demon,
are your hands burning from far my skin alredy dead.

私の声が私の喉のゾッとするような静けさの中で、破れている
あなたの沈黙の最小距離には、苦いです
私の手は悪魔の煙を受け入れる震えている
あなたの手を離れ、死人の中から自分の皮膚から解雇されています

┼פ[sometimes i don't even want to try...]¤×┼

I would like to start with something i read a long ago but i don't remember where..

Sometimes i look out at the sky, and i don't even want to try...

Ahh.... i was looking for a sort of restart... to put my "life" in order, or at least in a more functional form...

But it seems that they will never let me in peace... but i insist i just gonna let you die with your poisoned mouths!

My old scars opened once more.... my wounds... my blood... running in absent tears...
But that's what it has to be... i have a lot of blood to run out... bla bla bla...

My physical health is getting a little worse... but blah... i don't care much...

Well i still can't paint, and haven't finish my room but i take some bad quality furniture photos....

and here is a detail of the carved wood
Like i said in my last post rigth now i'm living in a storage room like xD
With my old furniture and other things but i have a little touch of my wicked glam with me...

This is one corner, with some bat stickers that i do at work, my brush, drawing sheets,some feathers and roses...
This is the book i'm reading, same of the above photo:

here's a description of the book...

Tanith Lee takes on the mantle of a contributor to Terri Windling's Fairy Tales Series of books with White as Snow, a dark and moody retelling of "Snow White" which also incorporates elements of the Demeter/Persephone myth.

Princess Arpazia is 14 when she is taken as a spoil of war by the warrior-king Draco and brought to Delphi in his kingdom in the south, where she becomes his queen. Protected all her life, she has no knowledge of the world outside her home.

In the shock of her experience, she withdraws from the world, indeed, from her own soul, becoming cold and remote.

The birth of her daughter seems to seal her off completely, and the child, named Candacis but called Coira, grows up under the care of nursemaids. She harbors a longing and a passion for her mother whom she rarely sees, a passion which goes unrequited.

Arpazia, meanwhile, finds that a young huntsman awakens her own passion, and she ventures into the woods at night where the old ways are practiced away from the disapproving eye of the church. There she becomes a queen of a different sort to the huntsman who returns Arpazia's desires which she does not recognize as love.

The familiar story unfolds with Lee's own dark and bittersweet twist: the incorporation of the myth of Demeter and Persephone. The two stories mesh wonderfully, giving the novel remarkable depth and dimension. The intricate dance of mother-daughter relationships is played out from rivalry through love to possessiveness as the cycle of life and death continues.

Curiously, the main characters of Arpazia and Coira are compelling although both are largely unsympathetic characters. They are both remote and nearly devoid of emotion and empathy. Their descent into a frozen, death-like spiritual and emotional state engages the reader's attention and sympathy, however. In keeping with the characterization, the plot unfolds slowly without dragging. Rather, the reader has the time to ponder the novel's deliciously shuddery intricacies.

As with other titles in the Fairy Tale Series, the dust jacket features a Thomas Canty cover.

I love the cover by the way... thank you ebay for let me put mi hands in this book n.n

In other thing the other day i bougth a new pair of shoes... is not the usual style of me... but.. i just love them n.n
I'm tired... i have a lot of work, stress, shit etc... rigth now... i dont' know if i want to try anymore...

┼פ[some life ~ a sort of]¤×┼

I wake up this morning...
early again...
but there's a huge diference with other days...

Since sunday i can sleep... really sleep, with no dreams but no nigthmares
I remember him and i smile so wide...
it is a smile that i never have before him...
And he have a smile... a pure smile that is only for and from me...

Who dares to interfiere with us?
i'll have no mercy with those fools, no compassion and no hate... i'm not like them
i'll let them die with their poisoned mouths...

I'm the sick Queen,
who rules over nigths and shadow forms...
dying in my jeweled throne...
But i found the cure of all my illnes...
and if i get my ceter again, all my power, all my faith...

I feel powerful, weak, still tired but powerful...

I keep my self wandering in the corners of my mind,
i get it and i lose it... oscilating between life and death...

I wake up this morning feeling so diferent from yesterday,
i pledge my alligance to my truth and my feelings for him...

I wake up this morning feeling so diferent from before...
i look at my side and my muse was lying in the bed with me,
giving me vissions of colors rage and unconcious blends...

I write the paint of the wine and the smoke... and i do a sketch of the illustration...
there's been a long, a very long time since the last time i do something similar...
maybe some years... if i keep this way maybe i can paint again someday and this wine & smoke will be my first....

I've been moving this last days... my new bedroom arrives... it's so pretty... but i hate the color in the walls i need to do some painting... maybe just change the color for a deep dark blue.. it'll make the wood contrast.... or maybe with some roses texture...in silver?...burgundy?... it has to combine with the persian rug... and i need beautiful courtains too.... and a bed set for the new bed... i want some black egyptian cotton sheets... hahaha i sound so expensive :P

Right now i'm living in like a storage room... with all my old furniture... i can't use my new bedroom until i finish it.

One of the good things of doing all this is that i found old clothes that i like so much n_n
some girly, some punk, some goth... some laceeee o_o that i forgot i have xD

Like today i wear an old pair of pants that i have since i was 14 o_o... and it still fits me :P...
or that mean that i was a fat teenager girl? xD

Anyway... finally the work is starting to calm down... so i still feel tired but not doing the big thing today..... well now is time to stop writing and lose my self with the music again...

Agartha is waiting me... my loyal beloved girlfriend... my very first true lover, my acoustic guitar... Askatasuna.. that beauty in red that used to be my adored electric girl... well she is no longer with me... but it wasn't a sad broke up.... i take her to other heart... a dear friend that need someone to sing to him, so i deep cleaned her and customize her for him... and i give her to him in his birthday, alog with her case, an amplifier, replacement strings, the plugs... an other things...

This is Askatasuna before i prepare her to him:




He needs more that fairlady than me... so i let her in his hands... an he seems to be a little happy with my beloved guitar so... it wasn't quite hard to give it to him... so i'm glad...

Besides, Agartha is still with me and maybe... when i finish to pay my furniture and the ipod i bougth for my brother birthday yesterday, i'll buy another electric girl to make me cry with her...

And this is Agartha undressed... she needs a make over, but is still very pretty n.n

┼פ[~proist!]¤×┼

me...

wine...

ricetto?

...where is my pinot noir?

wanna drink with me?

come, sit at my table... lets drink a little...

talk with me of all that wonderful lies that makes you live... i'll tell you about of the biggest lie of all... the true meaning of love....

Sopor Aeternus~

-Consider this: The True Meaning of Love-

Can I trust you, mortal boy?

You say, you love me - oh, sure you do - , but what exactly does this affirmation mean?

I do not have the slightest notion, no idea of what you understand by "love"and other terms as worn-outsuch as this old song and dance,you call romance.Quite different flowers grow indeedin my small semantic garden ... -so, let us see, if your good vowis more than just some chemical imbalance.

Is it worth the air you breathe,or will it be just another waste of time with you?

What I call "Love, precious and true",would you refer to this as sin,or crime and all that silly crap?

Now, let me put you to the test:

How often have I heard these words:"I love you so much, dearest dear,that I would die for you, right now, right here!"

Sure, doing this they're sitting pretty,but I say: piss on it,because this way is far too easy !!!

But: do you also have the strength to be there for me till the end?

Would you have courage, live for me,respect my wishes, my decree?

Would you defend me against the world,fight the doctors playing God,slap your priests, if they came near,or anyone who interferes ?!?

Is the version of your Love as true,that you would use all means within your powerjust to meet the urgent plea,that solemn, final wish for dyingof a helpless her or him,who lies in pain, who's suffering,now only begging for the end ... --is your "Love" that of a true friend?

If I lay crying in my bed,waiting, no longing for the end,if I decide my time has come,would you then be that trustful one to guard this chamber, break this shell,and free me from this living hell by making sure my death is swift.

Would you grant me that sacred gift ?!?

Now that you've heard it, let me know: Are you then willing to let go ?!?

Say: would you do all this for me,would you respect my wishes, my dignity?

Because that's what LOVE means to me !!!

┼פ[humanity~]¤×┼

There's been a while now...


I've writing about shouting so loud that the earth itselfs will turn her senses to my voice...

So loud that the windows of the impure souls will be broken...
and a lot of crappy similar things...

i keep wandering, and keep dying...

i was losing my heart... and now it seems that my heart is a total loss...

A lot of things has being passing... madness, deaths, smiles, a wonderfull little trip with that one... sadness, tears, rage, guilts... more and more depressing each one... even that smiles cuts me so bad...


i've quit to my blades... for that one i quit from bleeding... but now i feel like i desesperatly need to... but i keep my promise....instead he didn't even keep a single word.

He makes me live after my horrible torrid death so long ago... but he's killing me in a worse way... i'll live only for love.... and i'm now dying for it... i know it sounds so pathetic and like a shame bla bla bla...

I only have worked and stay in home for months... i don't see my "friends" anymore... i'm destroying every piece of "art" that i've made lately...

Sollitude and despair... i've been remembering a lot of things of my past -being-...attemps of suicide, me running away, they beating me... her nails hurting my face... my lost dreams and hopes...

I'm feeling so old now... so tired, so sick... in physical and spiritual/emotional ways...

All's so fucked up... but i'm so efficent in my work... the great designer... the gifted "child"... i don't like it... i hate it....i really hate me...

One of that days in my walk to work i found a newborn dead bird, and a skeleton of his brother... i would love to keep that beautiful skeleton and take it with me... but if i would taken from the ground only with my dirty hands... it would be broken now... and i prefer to lost his beauty in the streets than destroy it...

But i take a photo with my cellphone:

it isn't gorgeous???... even laying like that in the street he looks so beautiful... all his little blood stained bones...

And i look at me...i'm such a monster... the worse of all monsters... how can i dare to love and expect to be loved...? hopeless stupid dreamer...

He makes me discover humanity in me... and it hurts me so much... but he never know what he did because he never let me tell him... i need a certain tipe of confidence to talk about what's inside me and my feelings and i lose it very easily... he makes me lose that so often... and regain it with more strength...

But now and then... people are messing all within us... they make me belive lies and traitions, send me messages on line and on my cellphone, friends stabbing me making me feel like shit on porpously, one of my dearest familiars death...and his last words for me were "you haughty girl, you now not came even to say hello"... i was only trying to protect him of my mounstrosity... i can't go to his tomb... no this way... i'm a coward... pityful...

Arghhhh i'm losing my heart so badly!!!

It's easier to write this... here, no one read it... and if it is so no one cares...

I cast him tomorrow morning...after 15 day he didn't appear... if he comes... i'll tell him all this... other way... i'll trow away my heart and tell him au revoir... with all my pain and all my love... i'm just want to live... or finally die, i can't stand this agony anymore...

But no matter what happen...i'll always love him... if he stays with me... or if he finally let me down....

Outside is raining... i used to love the rain so much... now i just want to be the rain... the cry of the sky... the tears of the angels trying to clean my horrible sins...

I'm lying on my bed... next to the window, next to the rain...

i used to love the sound of the water falling against me, the roaring of the clouds... the singing of the wind...

now i just want to be outside... under the rain... there i can cry... no one will see my tears...

┼פ[about shouting...]¤×┼

Yeah i'm finally uploaded something on my dev...
A lot of crappy work, a lot of shitty things...
a lot of death wishes...
Today i scanned 41 images... i'll clean those for uploading a reduce file size...
This is something of the progress:

Just a little sneak peack xD, those are the raw ones.

bla bla bla bla... i'm fucked up! losing the heart!! tlazotla tzinacantli!!

┼פ[sliding faces]¤×┼

Hope is only a never ending fear.
Something that it's alredy ended before it begins.

A dream that came true just before closing your eyes,
such hideous dream that you really never dreamed.

You migth wish for a brigth wish that never come true.
That's the only reazonable way for keep dreaming.

Hold me near your chest, i'll devore all your nigthmares.
I'll consume all your most pitiful desire to make it mine.

And then you'll wake up... and i'll fade in the morning mist.
I'm now only your dream and desire.

Hope is only a neverending fear.
I wish for a neverending dream.

~pieces of a broken (fragment)~

This is something of the illustration series 4 "inked poems of dust and ashes", all coming ahead in this days.. maybe... i'm trying to finish all my series, but i never realized that i have so many works unfinished... watercolors, prismacolors, oil pastels... the coffee painting is still on hold... i can't find my desired paper ... i have no money... anything ... screw up economic crisis...blaaah...

Au revoir for now~
Same entrance in my deviantart and metroshit... those are in my ego links.

┼פ[Fainting Letters]¤×┼

Oh i have sooo many things in my painfull head, my twisted mind.

My madness, my beloved sweet acid morbid madness.

How much you love me, how much i love you.

The stars shine inside my troath, like microscopic pieces of a broken mirror.

The wind whispering in my eyes...and the grim fairys coming ahead.

The painfull tougths are dancing inside my heart...

and i'm losing my heart, there's no doubt of it...

I know it 'cause the heartbeat is increasing...

it's so strong and so painfull... my body felt like if it gonna broke at any second.

That feelings are burning inside me.

I sing mad poetry to the pillow at nigth, talking of skeletons and dear deads that i've never known...

That poetry is for a kind, little sweet bat.... that enchanted a wolf... but he's so very doubtfull.... and the wolf is full of love and dispair for that...so fearfull... tearfull

Art its my response to life. And i'll scream so loud this time...

┼פ[Restarted Agony~ ]¤×┼

Es viernes en la noche...
yo en la oscuridad de una habitación,
vodka a mi lado, la garganta seca.

Retomando este espacio.

Se supone que aquí pondría mis trabajos regularmente.
Pero el trabajo de oficina y muchas otras excusas me mantuvieron sin hacerlo.

Hoy hago una ligera actualización.

Las pinturas en cafe están suspendidas hasta nuevo aviso, no hay material disponible.
No he podido encontrar papel batería de buen gramaje.
Pero toda la serie ya está dibujada en boceto.

La pintura en acrílico también está suspendida, esa por falta de inspiración.

Hay acuarelas y pasteles a medias.

Muchos dibujos a lapíz y varios en prismacolor.

También hay trabajos en tinta y a bolígrafo.

En resumen hay tres series completas de ilustraciones nuevas, pero ninguna ha sido posteada, y sin embargo si hay varias terminadas.

Y no quiero actualizar el deviant art a medias, lo haré hasta tener completa una serie por lo menos.

En otras cosas sigo con la actualización de mi guardaropa gótico.
Y mi excursión a la librería sigue suspendida.

No tengo ganas de hacer mucho, estoy perdiendo el corazón...


Escribo en inglés también, tengo que practicar...y si llego a recordar algo de mis viejas lecciones de francés también lo haré en francés... o tal vez en alemán... o tal vez nada hahahaha

________________________

________________________
Friday nigth...
me... in the darkness of this room,
vodka at my side, but the troath is dry.

Turning back to this site.

It was supossed that i would upload illustration works and similars in here.
But the office work and a lot of dumber things were retrained me.

Today is time to upload something...

The coffe painting is on hold until i don't know when.
I can't find the paper i want... stupid economic crisis.
But at least i finish all the sketches.

The acrilyc is on hold too, this is for no inspiration, point...

There's some watercolors and oil pastels on going.

A lot of pencil and color drawings...

And also ink and pen works.

To resume i have three illustration series at this time, some works are finished but since i have no inspiration or the paper... there isn't a finished group.

That's the main reason that i have for no upload anything on my deviantart.

In other bussines i keep going on the doing of my new gothic wardrobe.
A lot of drinking lately... and unfortunatly i have no time to go to the library this month...
It sucks...

But at the end i don't want to do a lot, i'm losing the heart...

I'm posting in english too, i have to practice...and if i remember something of my old days french lessons i will post in french too... or maybe in german... or maybe anything hahahaha
________________________

┼פ[Panteón Hidalgo Second Shot]¤×┼

El sábado pasado acudí al panteón en una grata compañía.

Por alguna extraña razón termino en el panteón cuando cosas 'fuertes' andan rondando.

Esta es una de las fotos de esta segunda sesión.

Todo en mi está realacionado, así que tiene que ver (obviamente).

La primera sesión de fotos la tengo aquí en el slide en bruto.

Es decir, directamente de mi celular a la red.

Esta segunda sesión fue también hecha con la cámara de mi celular pero planeo trabajarla un poco, espero que la primera también.

De momento sólo está lista esta.

Disponible en mi metroshit, deviantart y aquí.

Los escritos que tengo por ahí lo explican mejor.

En fin, ya veremos que ocurre...

Au Revoir.

×┼פ[They Say And...]¤×┼

...And the eyes of the wolf were filled with love and despair...

They say my face is soften now...

...and the beat of my heart is getting down...

They say that i'm vulnerable now...

...and the life in my hands is running away...

They say that i must don't care...

...and the toughts in mind are turning insane...

They say that i must go now...

...and my body is shutting down...

They say that i must not go...

...and my blood is converting in ice...

The eyes of the wolf were filled with love and despair, not so long ago...

the wolf isn't tamed, the wolf wanted to stay, still want to...

All the wolf is now full of love and despair, so full and so empty.

The wolf run into the roses, and lost her deep clear eyes.

The wolf impact so deep in the torns, and pinch her heart so much.

The wolf lies in the roots, and her flesh is rotting now.

The wolf smell his perfume in the air, and her soul is drifting away.

And yes i'm that wolf, and yes, i'm so full of love and despair.

So much love and so much despair...

...i'll not hide for more time...

that time is coming ahead...

i'll go... i'll run into a biggest torns...

and i'll keep my eyes wide open, i'll see all the beautifull torns that will cut my life once for all.

Here lies a corpse that moves.

┼פ[£uX, Ars et Libertas]¤×┼

Hoy comienzo este blog, lo hago con una finalidad abstracta en mis pensamientos.

Lux, Ars et Libertas - Luz, Arte y Libertad.

Frase que comienzo a utilizar al lado de Ars Longa, Vita Brevis - El Arte es largo, la Vida Breve.

Ya veremos que es lo que se vuelve recurrente en este espacio, primordialmente espero subir algunos de mis trabajos de diversa índole, pero también suelo divagar bastante.

Ya veremos que ocurre.

Con sólo el sabor de un cigarro dentro de mí, deshaciendome de mi misma... saboreando mi combustión.

Combustión espontánea y absurdamente presentida, esperada... reanudando mi viejo nuevo comenzar.

Comenzar un extraño andar, para a cada paso desintegrarme un poco más... esperando mi despertar.

Despertar, lo que me espera no es nada esperanzador, es el despertar de la desolación... acelerando mi destrucción.

Destrucción que me atrapa, que me seduce, que me aterra y que me atrae... lacerando mi abstracto corazón.

Corazón que da un último esfuerzo y guarda una absurda esperanza para no dejar de latir... coagulando mi insípida sangre.

Sangre casi traslúcida desde aquel fatídico día, escurriendo continua y lentamente... arrebatando mi insulso sentir.

Sentir irracional que nubla tan obstinadamente la mente ofuscada... matando mi patética alma.

Alma decadente que se apaga ahogada en lágrimas rojas y dolor púrpura... alentando mi ansiada muerte.

Muerte, sin más que decir.