For you I was a hunter…
How many miles did my thirst travel?
You do know the desperation,
oh, many rocks by sheer energy I was willing to move.
Do you know how many times I felt lost
with an eco as my guidance?
Wind, because I wasn’t strong enough
to leave it as it was.
Smoke, burning and crying
while been eating by flames.
Rootless tree, destructed by the same violent air that took you.
Would you believe that in ashes didn’t leave me?
Fighting with the same page again…
…Or how not to write if you’re trying to get an application done.
Twisting ideas and pulling on songs.
Defenses are downing while substance is flowing.
And you and I, blank page, we are trying to come out
with a plan of less dispersion and seclusion.
Thus, I’m holding on the rhymes,
believing in convincing lingo
behind the academic charade.
You see, the gifts I have received
deserve a broaden spectacle
than the emptiness of my intelligence
and the appetite of my loneliness.
- Watching the credits from Boys n' the Hood.
- Dad: we ended up in the same thing.
- Me: what do you mean?
- Dad: it had a bad ending
- Me: how did you wanted it to end?
- Dad: (laughs) with another war
- Me: eh ave maría
- Colombian humor, everybody! We experience those kind of stories everyday, specially in this town. Now we are completely numb. Thank you, Medellín.
- The gangs around here throw their warnings to the air (fireworks), the messages reverb in the mountains and the bullets follow next. I hear them because the borders between nice and bad are too thin; I have it easy, I can only hear it while others live it closely.
- Alboradas, estando en medio del campo descanso de ellas.
Without someone warm and breathing on the other side of the page, letters are worthless.