┼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...