Tiene ke parecer so taken from...

31 de enero de 2009

Aire



ya sabes lo que pasa

2 tubos de pasta de dientes

2 de gel y un montón de champú

4 cajas de té de sabores diferentes que he ido coleccionando

lemon-yellow-taihití-los alpes

2 de smacks y una de corn flakes de mentira

que no saben a nada, 2 botellas del aceite sano

muchos filetes pequeños de carne y pollo a 2 euros

lo justo para llenarme, martini bianco

2 botes de nescafé creo, solamente

una caja de terrones de azúcar que justo ya se me ha acabado

y 2 paquetes para la mojitada de Turo, que sobró mazo

1 paquete de sal del que no he tirado

porque siempre cogemos del bote azul de Gaelle

que cuando me vaya se lo daré.

una lámpara minimalista que no alumbra nada

pero cambia de color creando ambientes

e iba a juego con el mac,

unos 30 libros habré leído.

las pelis de Henry, la mejor la que vi contigo,

la que vi contigo también moló pero se te queda mal cuerpo

menos mal que después nos pusimos a cantar Fito

y te dije a la cara "yo le doy mi querer al querer..."

y me hiciste el amor

como quien vuelve a casa

de entre tanta guerra.

no podría contar las cervezas, no en cuanto a número.

una lata de piñas abierta a bocados

y otra de ragut a martillazos

(no tenemos abrelatas)

1 anécdota con el monstruo del fregadero y otra de mi nudismo

1 albornoz azul suave que me está gigante

y que se puso la Martius, teníais que haberla visto

coca-colas heredadas, 4 ataques de nervios.

unos cuantos euros en marihuana, pero qué más da el dinero

con todo lo que flipé contigo

leyéndome poesías infinitas,

quedándome dormida entre latidos.

algunos paquetes de chicles y algunos caprichos.

me compré la almohada finalmente en Halloween

y estuve sin sábanas... semanas.

no acabé comprando colcha porque no la necesitaba

la cale va de miedo y me entretiene ir regulándola.

3 intoxicaciones y dolor

he llorado

paseos por el pasillo

subir y bajar el frío de la escalera

pensando en que es parte de la energía

ser un incomprendido de mierda.

obsesiones las que quieras, todo el tabaco

el sonido oblicuo de la lluvia y cartas

en el tríptico de mi espejo siempre 2 burlándose

Cortázar, Bolaño, T.S Eliot, Salinger, Piaget, Van Gogh, Lévi-Strauss, Borges Borges Borges Borges

los libros de Paco, Óscar y Carlos

los blogs de mis amigos, privar con Escan, navegar la red.

jazz los lunes, la palabra building

la expresión who are we kidding?

salón a partir del miércoles

no saber qué iba a ser de nosotros el findesemana
pasadizos especiales para cantos rodados
preparados para la redención
a cambio de espirales. dar las gracias por todo

octubre de viajes, recorrer Europa

el día entero de suerte y magia en Antwerpen, cada contigo.

Kevin diciendo no probs

Alex absolutely, Kang-Xiao oh come on, yo super

creo que al final la frase de Gaelle es "totally drunk".

cruzarnos con los belgas y repetirles qué hacemos,
la dulce Sofía opinando en clase

Enas disfrutando de mi inocencia y haciéndome verla

la conversación que tuvimos aquella tarde en el bar trainspottiniano

de la escalera de caracol que colé en algún poema

Sonia pendiente de mí y de mi desastre

los de HCI odiándome porque ya sé, ya sé, he sido fatal compañera; Augusta enseñándonos a colores Nigeria

el Erasmus Manifesto de Carlos,
que todos queremos y necesitamos lo mismo, amor
que it's so fucking easy
to just be happy.

la intimidad conmigo misma, que me he cuidado

que pese a los vaivenes de la bici no me haya pasado nada

que me las he apañado
que no somos los mismos que dejaron aquella mañana atrás el avión
que algo ha cambiado,

vivir en inglés. el humor internacional, tan naive.

el pan de la semana cortado a rodajas

coger costumbres

y la confidencia al llamarme Thánatos.

Ámsterdam y sus patatas fritas

la aventura de que Cesca apunte cada palabra que digo,

reciclar los tarros de las aceitunas

(que aquí no están tan buenas como en España)

y convertirlos en vasos. las manzanas verdes, este canto budista

haber aprendido a hacer la tortilla de patatas yo solita

Massimo y Fanny

Daniel, Iris y el vecino del quinto

Fabio, que me encanta cómo viste y contarle mis cosas

porque veo cómo me entiende

y que lo lleve todo a su terreno, porque tiene tantos.

aquella caminata por los canales feeling groovy a tu lado

que en el billar nadie gana si se pierde,

la poesía latente en cada paso que he dado
saber que es mi vida
y vivir en lo que sé, y entender lo que siento

decidir aquel día tirar para arriba

que fumo el doble

para notarme por dentro sin que sea lo de la cabeza

para contaminarme, porque no voy a morir.

caerle simpática a los profes y que me hagan favores

mis pequeños actos anarquistas artísticamente justificados.

Im no critic, Im a thinker

(excuse me if I digress, this is just who I am)
1 almanaque y el cuaderno de pequeversus
el 21 cumpleaños

el diccionario wordreference de internet, los ensayos.

enamorarme a distancia

hablarle de ti a la gente

lo claro que veo que tenemos que estar juntos,

escoger esa vida.

mi madre.

hacer el tonto con la webcam con mis padres. el cariño.

mi padre. la simplicidad de la supervivencia.

aprender a querer a los hombres. la delgadez.

nadia con su maridito

en su nidito de amor de auras blancas

nuestra juerga, nuestro 22 de noviembre, la sal y el viaje. 

hacerte llorar.

emocionarte, Neiria

que es por ti que empezó el arte.

la salvajada de fiesta del tekila

sangriada - mojitada - facbars - pangaea – cocktails - vodka

borracheras y desquicios, abrigos y pesadillas

volver a casa haciendo eses

pérdidas de memoria, mejor dicho, qué-pasó-anoches
aunque así tampoco esté bien dicho,

echar un poco de menos.
lo mítico, lo típico y la cotidianeidad relatada.
unas cuantas fotos buenas.

encontrarnos con Meri y Jorba en la estación de tren, tan literario

haber estao en el estómago de una ballena, como en los cuentos

y un desesperado autostop, como en las pelis de miedo
aunque luego resultara ser un buen tipo

... el té con leche a cualquier hora.

las conversaciones abstractas y lo que leí de Janis.
7 horas en Bruselas a por ti y un polvazo

convertirse por cojones aquí en un experto en cerveza

el Delirium. Keith y Sandy. argentinizar a Efe

mi profesor de filosofía diciendo "my dear students..."

y la de arte "so, where am I?"

y Patricia, que es simplemente una pasada escucharla

tan inteligente, aunque siempre me sonaran las tripas en sus clases.
las cosas que no tienen perdón y el masoquismo

todos los personajes. hey there Delilah. la psicodelia.

la rolling con después de 30 años los ACDC en portada.

el rock matemático, los discos conceptuales y las nimiedades.
haber hecho grandes amigos

los planetas

que desde el anillo se ve el cinturón

casualidad casi palabra perfecta

la meditación en sinestesia de días largos

lo relativo y el hambre por gente auténtica

el león de Judá, el universo y unos 6 collage

tirarnos a follar al suelo como perros

el cuadernito de los escolares

MGMT, Devendra Banhart, Sidonie
La ley innata y el Ajuste de cuentas, Bob Marley siempre

algún que otro corazón roto

1 sólo enfado.

Tiensestraat 274 y Palmeras. Febrero.

que actuar por impulsos sea más que un remedio

que la noción del Aire vaya más allá de lo obvio y sea más que un secreto

que te contaré en conversación, para que forme parte en sí en la obra
que es lo suyo,

que tiene que ver con la mirada cosmológica, cómo no

qué de viajes astrales...
que viene el teatro,

la tele en la que dar al 7 para los canales de música

al 32 para Televisión Española, al veintipico para la CNN

y al 29 para frikadas de cine repli

entrando a dimensiones diferentes a base de zapping

y aburrimiento.

la electricidad estática y los trenes en duermevela.

los cacharros de cocina que han ido poco a poco desapareciendo

la señora de la limpieza, las duchas, cientos de youtubes, el facebook

1 cambio de bombilla

y otro que me espera,

caja y media de gelocatil para toda la tropa, unos 7 deadlines

2 catarros más o menos los 2 graves
tratar de comprender por qué la vida genera polvo
estar de escapada en Madrid y agarrarte en la moto
la noche de atún, porros, cava y vinilos en Barcelona

2008 In Rainbows y el último de Amaral, las uvas contigo

que nadie puede abrir semillas en el corazón del sueño

la vida rimando en lejanía, unos 15 teléfonos
ser la que se levanta siempre a la barra a por más-siempre-más para todos
y, he de decirlo, he habitado el silencio


que lo he estao pensando, y veo que mi único miedo

es a que no sepan hasta el final cuánto les quiero los míos


el Aire era esto,


igual hasta que no me liberase de todo no podría seguir

pero es que NUNCA ME LIBRARÉ DE TODO ESTO


ya sabes lo que pasa:
been there, done that...


ha sido Orión, que es a lo que aspiro, todo el mundo lo sabe
y así de claro
si hubiera tenido que escribir yo el guión de mi vida


no se me hubiera ocurrido este fuego.


Hashann Temple http://www.goear.com/listen.php?v=cbcedfa

8 Comments:

Blogger Harpox el pequeño filósofo said...

Sencillamente explosivo y único! Eres lo más hermoso que habita la existencia...wao..qué manera de decir las cosas! Que esperábamos...eso es Orión..yo me quiero morir de amor a tu lado..me emociona pensar que he podido ser espectador e incluso, protagonista de secuencias cortas, en tan maravilloso viaje existencial..lo que queda por llegar...a tu lado la creación.. sin ti, ya no puedo.

2/01/2009 1:08 p. m.

 
Anonymous escalante said...

Guys,

Hello! How are you? I hope everything is fine in Leuven or wherever you are. Hope that you're having good exams, and that the weather is nice.

It was only a couple of days since I left and everything seems so far away now. I realized just how amazingly quickly life moves, it never stops - I've just woken up after coming late yesterday and I already have lots of appointments in the morning and classes all day - my house is different, my room is different, my car is different, and my baby brother is as tall as me, yet everything is the same and I feel like I never left at all, yet I'm oh so different, and so satisfied.

Before I get sucked into the cogs of my life again, I want to tell you something - thank God I had the chance to say goodbye to all you in person, but still I'm so happy right now and I felt so loved and blessed that the least I can do is give back something to you guys.

I never expected this last semester to turn up the way it did, I had high expectations but what actually happened blew me out of the water - I don't know why but I can't think of ever meeting someone unkind, I only met amazing people which taught me lots of things. Really, all of you helped me see something new and invaluable that I will never forget - be it cultural, academic, social...everything - each and every one of you is now ingrained into my psyche forever in one way or another - maybe it's because I was the outsider this time around that I noticed and learned so much, but I hope, that I too, have in teeny weeny ways, brought something positive or nice into you life, at least a laugh or two :).

You guys showed proved to me again and again that countries, language and even culture, are irrelevant at the end of the day and that bonds can be formed without problems because at the end of the day, we are just people trying to be happy and to get along in life - I'm really happy I met all of you and I'd NEVER ever, trade you for anyone or anything and all the moments, as few as they were for all of us in the grand scheme of things, are a treasure I will always have in my heart.

Some of you have heard my definition of country : for me mexico by itself is just landmass - In practical terms, I care nothing about the flag, the anthem, the constitution, they're just papers and pictures that alone, are worth no more than a rock.

My country, is my home, my family, my friends - for them I'd burn in the fires of hell forever and I wouldn't care, for they are the most important thing in my life.

Belgium, by itself, doesn't mean anything more than waffles and awkward, pasted together words (in flemish at least hehe) for me but each and everyone of you, made it home for me, in the most real sense. You became my second home, and I'd never thought that would be the case - one semester seemed like a such a short time, and it is, but with some of you I've come to feel that I know since forever, and with many of you I wish I had more time to know you, yet all of you made me feel safe and at home and became part of my life and forever will be.

And I'll forever be thankful for that - it's such a beautiful and priceless feeling, so, even though I know for many of you I was probably no more than an annoying and forgettable mexican side character in your life haha, I frankly don't care and I'm fine with that. I didn't expect to be anything more nor need it, as it is, you already made me feel more than I bargained for :).

So, just to close this cheesy and ridiculous letter, I want to say, that each and every one of you has a real HOME with me - always and forever, in 6 months, in 1 year, in 5, or 20 - my mind and my heart will never forget you - for me, friendships and moments are forever.

Count on me to help you with whatever I can, if you need help as a friend, in business, whatever, if I can help you I will, that I swear with my heart. I mean it. Believe it. You never know how people can help, that I can say by experience, and even my limited vision and abilities might spew out a nice advice sometime you need it. Be at ease to call me whenever you need me.

So, now you know, that you have a sanctuary, a home, and a friend on the other side of the world, were the sun shines and the mountains look over the city, on Monterrey, Mexico, a place you didn't even know existed before. You have me, 'till the end of my days.

Thank you for everything guys, you really mean the world to me, and I hope this is the beginning for all of us, and not the end. On my part, if you write, I will always reply, If you call I will always answer. Be sure of that.

As for my life right now, everything is perfect - my family is in great health and doing great, all my friends couldn't wait for me to return, and everything is perfect with my girl - all the horror stories that happened between us disappeared the moment I held her in my arms and saw her, like they never existed. She really is the apple of my eye, and though I don't know what the future holds for us, everything was worth it, at least for the moment we had yesterday :). I really don't know what I did to deserve so much love from everyone here and back in "Home II" :).

I'm sure I'll meet with all you one day - when I go to Belgium, Spain, Russia, India.... be sure you'll have an annoying guest to take care of :p.

I hope you can all visit me sometime, my city is really nice and there's lots to do - fashion, clubs, every type of food you can imagine, parks, mountains, climbing - if you're ever somewhere in Mexico you can cheaply and safely travel by air to my place - be sure i'll do my best as host. Tell me with anticipation tough, so I can plan around you.

So my friends, with this I say the final words (for real, this time).

THANK YOU!

Best of luck in your future endeavors, and I hope you keep in touch, I'd be ecstatic to hear about your hopes, dreams and achievements.

I'm so proud to have met you all.

Yours truly, your friend,

Carlos Javier Escalante Treviño (CJET).

2/01/2009 1:38 p. m.

 
Anonymous elia said...

know you're here. ya.
qué bien.

2/02/2009 7:48 p. m.

 
Blogger Dani said...

Qué pasada, Silvita... Y también lei los ensayos en la Vida Rima. Qué grande. Lo de la meditación sinestesia de días largos es de antología!!!

2/03/2009 10:41 a. m.

 
Blogger JUAN said...

Torrente de palabras. Imparable. Tú misma. TQ. Un beso

2/04/2009 5:20 p. m.

 
Blogger silvi orión said...

you already know what happens
2 tubes of toothpaste
2 of gel-douche and tons of shampoo
4 different flavoured tea boxes that Ive been collecting
lemon-yellow-tahiti-les alps
2 of smacks and one of fake corn flakes
whose taste is just not there, and 2 bottles of oil, the healthy type of course
a lot of small steaks of meat and chicken for 2 euros
enough to fill me in, martini bianco
2 tins of nescafé I think, only
a box of sugar-lumps that has just finished
and 2 packs of it for Turo's mojito party, that were way too much, actually
a package of salt that I haven't used
because we always took from Gaelle's blue thing
that when I go I'll give it to her, fairtrade, hehe.
a minimalist lamp that doesn't shine shit
but changes colour creating ambients
and went very nice with the Mac,
around 30 books I must've read.
Henry's films, the best one the one I saw with you,
the one I saw with you was also cool but later your body isn't feeling that well, thank god later we started singing Fito
and I said to your face “I give who I am to love”
and you made love to me
like who comes home
from between so much wars.
I couldn't count the beers, maybe tell their stories, but...
a pineapple-can almost opened with the teeth
and another one of ragout by hammer blowing
(we don't have the normal opener)
a funny story about the monster from the kitchen sink
and another one about my nudism,
a huge bathrope very soft and blue that for me is gigantic
and Martius used, you should've see her
inhereted coca-colas, 4 panic attacks
a whole lotta money in marihuana, but what's money
comparade to the hallucinations by your side
reading infinite poems,
while I slowly fell asleep beneath the heartbeats.
some chewing gum and some whims.
I finally bougt my pillow on Halloween
and was without sheets... for weeks
I didn't buy the bedspread because I didn't need it
the heat works just fine and it's even fun for me to regulate it, I'm like that.
3 intoxications and pain
I've cried,
walking around the corridor
going up&down the cold of the stairs
thinking that it's part of the energy
if nobody understands you.
obsessions as many as you can imagine, all the tobacco
the oblique sound of the rain and letters
in the tryptich of my mirror always two making fun of me
Cortázar, Bolaño, T.S Eliot, Salinger, Piaget, Van Gogh, Lévi-Strauss
Borges Borges Borges Borges
Paco, Óscar and Carlos' books
my friend's blogs, private laughs with Escan, surfing the net.
jazz on mondays and the word building
the expression “who are we kidding?”
downstairs from wednesday
never knowing what was gonna happen each weekend,
special passages for rolling stones
prepared for redemption
in exchange for spirals. giving thankyous for everything.
october being a cinema-travelling, running through Europe
the whole day of magic and good luck in Antwerpen, each with you.
Kevin saying no probs
Alex absolutely, Kang-Xiao oh come, me super
and in the end I think Gaelle's phrase is “totally drunk”
each time we run across the belgiums, repeating them what we do
sweet Sofia giving her opinion in class
Enas enjoing my inocence and making me see it
the conversation we had in the trainspottinian bar that afternoon,
the one with the snail stairs that I talked about in some past poem
Sonia paying attention to me and my disaster
the HCI guys hating me because I know, I know, I've been a horrible partner
Augusta showing us Nigeria in colors
the Erasmus Manifesto by Carlos
that we all want and need the same, love
that it's so fucking easy, to just be happy.
intimicy with myself, that I've taken care of
that even if my bike was broken, nothing bad actually happened
that I managed my way as I felt it at the moment
that we're not those who left behind the plain that morning
that something has changed,
to live in english, the international humour, so naive...
bread cuted in estrategical pieces
getting new habits
and the conffidence on calling myself Thanatos,
Amsterdam and its french fries
the adventure of Cesca writing down each single word I say
recicling olives' jars
(that taste much better back home in Spain)
and turning them into glasses where to drink.
green apples and this my buddhist chant
learning how to do the spanish omelette on my own
Massimo & Fanny
Daniel, Iris and the guy from the fifth floor
Fabio and what he's wearing, telling him my stuff
because I see how he understands
and takes it to his own field, 'coz he's got so many
that long walk through the canals feeling groovy
that in the billiards nobody wins if someone looses
poetry each latent step I've made
knowing it's my life
and living in what I know, and understanding what I feel
deciding that day to go up the road
that I smoke double than I used to
to contaminate myself, 'coz I'm not gonna die
teachers thinking I'm funny and giving me more oportunities
my small anarchist acts artistically justified
I'm no critic, I'm a thinker
(excuse me if I digress, this is just who I am)
1 kaleidoscopical calendar and pequeversus' notebook
the 21th birthday
the wordreference dictionary from the internet, the papers.
to fall in love in the distance
talk about you with the people
the clear way in which I see now that we're meant to be together
choose that life.
my mother.
doing the silly thing with the webcam. the affection.
my dad. the simplicity of survival.
learning how to love men. the weakness.
Nadia with her little husband
in their nest of white auras
our scandal, our 22 Nov, the salt and th trip
making you cry
to move your inside, Neiria
that it's because of you that in the first place art started
the outrageous tekila party
sangriada – mojitada – facbars – pangaea – cocktails – vodka
drunkness & driving mad, coats & nightmares
going back home walking on zigzag
lost of memory, or better said, what-the-hell-happened-yesterdays?
even if this is not the way to say it either, 'coz it's unnecessary,
to miss you.
the tipical, the mythical and relate the everyday things,
a few good pictures.
finding Meri and Jorba at the train station, so literary
to have been in a whale's stomach, like in the fairytales
and a despraid autostop, like in the horror films
even later it was a nice guy that liked U2
...tea with a drop of milk anytime.
the abstract conversations and what I read about Janis
7 hours in Brussels to you and your sex
becoming an expert in beers here because there's really nothing else to do
the Delirium. Keith & Sandy. the argentine side of Efe
my philosophy teacher saying “my dear students...”
and the art one “so, where am I?”
and Patricia, that it's simply great to just listen to her, so intelligent
even at that time I was always hungry as a lion,
things you can't forgive and masoquism
all the characters of the story. hey there Delilah. the psychedelia
the rolling stone magazine with ac/dc on its cover after 30 fucking years
the mathematical rock, conceptual albums and the trivialities
having met such an incredible crew, have made real friends
the planets
that from the ring you can see Orion's belt
coincidence almost perfect word
meditation on sinestesy of large days
the relative and hunger for authentical people
Judá's lion, the universe and about 6 collages
end up in the floor making love as if we were dogs
the scholars of India's notebook
MGMT, Devendra Banhart, Sidonie
La ley innata and el Ajuste de cuentas, Bob Marley always
some heartbreak
1 only anger.
Tiensestraat 274 and Palmeras. febreaury
that acting by impulss is more-much-more than a solution
that the notion of Air goes beyond the obvious, and is more tha a secret
I'll tell you about in a conversation so that it's part of the piece of art,
'coz that's the way to do it
that it has to do with the cosmological view, how would it be if not...
so many astral dreams...
that theater is coming, is already here
TV pressing 7 for the music channels
32 for TVE (the spanish one), twentysomething for the CNN
and 29 for freak cinema stuff, the kind my friend Repli likes
entering to complete different dimensions by zapping
and boredome
the static electricity and the restless sleep trains.
the kitchen pots that have been disappearing
the cleaning lady, the showers, hundreds of youtubes, the facebook!
one light bulb change
and another that's waiting for me,
box and a half of gelocatil for everybody, around 7 deadlines
2 colds more a less both serious
trying to understand why life generates dust
being in Madrid with the feeling that I don't live there
grab you on the scooter
the night of tuna, joints, cava and viniles in Barcelona
2008 In Rainbows and the last one from Amaral, graves with you
that no-one can open seeds on the dream's heart
life riming on the distance, about 15 phones
being the one that goes to the bar for more-always-more drinks for all
and I must also say this, I've dwell the silence

that I've been thinking about it, and I see that my only fear is the chance of my loved-ones not knowing 'til the end how much they're in me

Air was this,

maybe 'til I didn't get rid of it I couldn't continue
it's just that I'll never forget this, it trapped me

you already know what happens:
been there, done that...

it's been Orion, that's for sure
and that's my fate, everybody knows it

and, it's as easy as this, if I were the one to write the script of my life
not even in a thousand years would I've come up with this fire

2/08/2009 12:48 p. m.

 
Anonymous Neiria said...

Siempre me harás llorar

2/10/2009 7:26 p. m.

 
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