Monday, May 24, 2004

Instruction procedures

You might never sleep
It's haunting you

Waste-free time-effective life

That can be an interesting concept at 5 am in the morning, between unusual cups of coffee and odes, between cigarettes and frustrations.

As if nothing would really matter... a canned life; happiness insurance, sleeping tablets, staring at my walls, very unusual and very unlike myself.

Waiting for my destiny... on a bus stop.. right here in my mind.. wasting my life and using up my life as if there were no tomorrow. Among different old unknown faces, encounters, unconsciousness... I'm unthinkable... without a dream... and so wide awake... so expectant and hopeful. Also hurt, looking at my life through a transparent glass, the night bird in my life.. pretty lifeless...

My face, the match... the glass.. it's a whole march. A life full of electronic smiles and memories... empty in the shades... empty in the colours... full of shallowness.

Trying to face my loneliness without getting round to it, walking with her on a wire... watching it from the sides... keeping up the fire... waiting for a word... waiting for a word on the phone... living in function of a mobile phone... living in function of a life that hasn't started... living in function of disappointments... of unsual cups of coffee... of deliverance.. of old newspapers... of unknown faces... dwelling outside my life... dwelling in the outside... dwelling in the city and making history happen.

Living in front of a screen, behind a clock and next to a mobile phone... the unfamiliar faces... searching what has already been found.

Trying to find ways to give up... to stop the race and to dettach yourself... to sit and have some rest. But holding the rides and standing on your feet, as if you'd believe in anything at all... don't we all? It seems the skeptical tends to be the most courageous and naive believer... the one who lets himself down... next to a mobile phone. Pieces of deliverance, breakfast with the evil, a short life.

Electronically fed, dwelling on yourself... on your loneliness, on your disappointments.. as if they were all what you've got... what you've been called for.. God is on waiting call, he and all his cronies... on waiting call... but you're still on the line... you're still on the line... Welcome to Rome! Welcome to the Rome and its royalties!

There's a cold voice in the other line... and who is he to tell you it'll all be ok this time? Has he ever been there? has he ever been? has he ever felt? Probably he has... probably he does... but who has time for humanity these days? We just memorize sentences to unravel memories... to unravel pieces... to unravel... to understand... we memorize sentences, we memorize words... stuff that makes you feel better.

Morning just broke... let's go to pick up stars... to pick them up in the roads... they've fallen there just for you... in the eyes of people... in the miracles of silence... in the middle of nowhere, somewhere... just like it was yesterday... just like in some old script... you fallen star... you universe!

On top of yourself... trembling and waking up... opening your eyes... as if they'd never been open before... staring at the walls... walking in stores.. feeding up your vanity... feeding up your loneliness with lists of names, with phone numbers, with credit card bills, with political statements... faltering... don't we all?

Selling your soul... selling your integrity... just for yourself... to keep it all inside and cry thereafter... leaving a part here and a part there... so that you remember the road back... it's a silent path... the contemplation... living underground... it's 121.

Licentious lives... cheap leisure and cheap coffee, bad movies on TV, slow music, bus rides in a stranger's arms, a romantic ode... small like a lie... a tiny little lie.. that would make you feel better. Deep inside you never sleep... deep inside you are never full... you're never felt... you're never apart. Papering the walls, covering the windows, riding on a fast car, talking on the phone, a long line.... it's still you... it's still there.... we're taking over.

We're taking over....

Moral questions

I insist... strange days
This blog more than a bunch of riddles and enigmas is also a diary... the riddles are part of my life... of my soul... of my integrity

Tried to write the ode to my family last night but the words just didn't come through, I guess I just need more time to iron the whole thing together with myself.. to stop finding excuses and give myself a little bit of a break.

Growing up.. fighting and full of burdens, fears and questions.. questions that no one can solve but myself... questions of morality, of principles and of courage.

Pulling myself out of the gutter everyday.. running and hiding at once... forlorn.. forsaken. White lies, thrills, no more tears.. after 400 strokes against the wall... I've learnt how to fit in perfectly and stand on my feet.. to hide it inside and leave it unfinished... to be dealt with somewhere else... elsewhere...

Living through exciting and painful days of my youth, becoming a young adult with all my doubts and my open questions. About sex, about power, about religion, as if trascendence weren't there....

A fast life, less dignified... less thinkable.. less dreamland.. as if unhappiness weren't there in wait for us.. we coudln't care less.. living just one day... living just today... looking at life just like fun... and take whatever we can... and no more.

Without a trace of seriousness at all.. just with a dettached eye... through the vetted glass. Afraid but yet so brave! Without a past and making up for the future that hasn't come yet. Making up... that's the key word.. time and make up.

A 90 years-old soul in a young skeleton, past the experience, past the ilusion.. past itself.. waking to life. It's desperating... it's frustrating.

I'm attacked by my own moral questions.. what should I do? how should I response? Life is in my hands... it's not up to you... it really never was. Smoked fragment of thoughts... all given up.

I'm attacked by my moral questions

Can anyone at all understand?

Should I leave on and deal with my unhappiness? Should I just see this life as fun and enjoy today? But is it to enjoy? What will come later? Will I regret? Will I forget? Where are my principles? Are they really important? Are they really steady? Are they really strong? Should I then just leave? I can't figure out how I'm asking myself these questions....

Bravo! you're still young!

And they're waiting for you out there
Clinging onto feeling
Standing on a line
Standing on your life
They'll hold you
They'll hold you
Oh he likes you
Does anyone care?

Pieces of deliverance

Playing a game... a game of two... a game of many others... making up for all what we lack of... making up for the day... for the day when we were truly happy and young... without preoccupations in a generation of no time. Losing time... losing life... running after our own private tortures... infatuated... afraid.. violent.

And yet I want some time for myself... to take care of myself.. to love me... to release me... some time to think... to analyze and to deflect some blame..... time for pitiful consideration and for timeless fear... still I'm so young and so afraid.

Voiceless in my head.. full of memories... full of stories... full of lies... life in specials today... just for free... full of kindness. Trying to live just one day, one today.... not hearing... not looking at... not speakable... hanging in.

It's not me... it's not me... it's not me.... I can hear them coming... I hear tanks, tanks and bombs, tanks and bombs and guns... always in my head.. and it's not me... it's not me... and I just can't understand why... an old newspaper and a new face... the city out there and I'm breaking....

It's the same old theme.... silence... silence... silence... silence... the roads... silence... motorways... cups of coffee... lonely roads.... lonely mankind... numbers... odds... statistics... credit cards... happiness... youth... freedom... deliverance... self-opinionated... silence

Astray... astray...

So far from here... It's just not me and I'm just not here... I'm just not here... hiding.. disappearing.. in a moment.. and for a lifetime... in a crowd... in a crowd... in the noise... violent... and silent...

Violent... and silent

Running after pleasures to make up for everything you lack of... western life... ties.... thrills... coffee... It's not me.. and I ain't here... no longer.

Sunday, May 23, 2004


Politically Correct
Clinging onto a bottle
Going on a train
Following him....
On a plane
On a line
On a message board
Next to a phone
In fuction of my outside
Still morning
Still mourning
Morning is still
Morning still
Reading old movie scripts
Victorian novels
Silences of others
Sleeping pills
Going back there
Looking for his arms
Of the unknown face
Sad films
Cheap sex
I belong there
Where you've never been
Pagan poetry
The sky
An ode
Navigation maps
No more letters
My words
Let me be silent
It's not a script
It's me
My dreams
And you walking upon....
I hear you....
I'll outreach
We'll see you...
There's a song next to the last
There's a word next to the last
There's always a way
A cab to the airport
A cup of tea
Self-contained humanity
Release me
Next to
Release me...
People of the sun
Leave me on....
Let me look up
Let me disappear
Let me rationalize
A waking life
Don't call yourself a victim of banality
Don't hide
It's just down here
You and me
You forgot the tie
I forgo my lines
I'm still
I'm still just an electronic ode
I'm still just an electronic ode
It's not up to you
And it never was
I'm just an electronic ode
A featured smile
A simulated sensation
Ends that do not meet end
Different paths
Like airplanes
Like airports
And you?
You're just that
An electronic smile
An ode
In a navigation map
A dark point
A riot
Self-contained chaos
Just a white lie
A cold night
A hotel room
A call in the middle of the night
The streets
The sea
Urban dreams
Urban heights
Urban hymns
That's what you are
Just a word
An electronic smile

5:34 am

Consumed in desire
Yet so helpless
As if your life was just one day
A night that never ends
When you wake up
And when you dream
And when you feel
It's just a say
The cold in the morning
A ride on a bus
A little bit of rye
Smiles at the store
Get one before you leave
You'll need it for the way
It'll use you up
Don't waste yourself in your sadness
It's rather useless
Don't live today
Tomorrow there might be a need for more
Save your strength
Hide it inside
Keep it to yourself

Stare at the lights
Walk in the right direction
It's so accurate
It's like a musical

Don't look at me
I'm just trying to smile
Don't let it get to you
So simple
It's shameful
Running after life
Running after myself
Remembering all odds
Looking at the adds
Maybe hearts are for free today
Placed between flats and stocks
Maybe within cottage houses
I search
I search
The search of what has been found
Right there for you
A morning mind shake

If you could look at my face
If you just could
If I'd just have one....

Let me shut up
Let me disappear

Friday, May 21, 2004


Paths don't cross sometimes... sometimes we're in different lines... leaning towards different directions... making choices like in a backgammon game and daring into the pathos, into the chaos.

We've met so many times... ends meet ends... whenever it is, wherever it is... it can even happen in our minds... so full of guilt, so full of themselves, backed up, wordly, burnt... It's difficult to explain... it's a chance... it's another chance... it's a race, a life-long competition.. and we are blind before ourselves... just like drunk, just like in the movies... small little lies, imagery, the roads... the stops.. the thrill.

In La Riviera.. like in an old song.. like in that old song.. such old song... the sky turns yellow and falls upon your shoulders with a swift touch... like a musical... involving you.. embracing you... unravelling... in two way dreams, in a stream.

Burnt in front of screens, condemned to our furnitures, afraid, senseless, comfortable, searched for... never found. Disattached... within a musical... within a song... deep within a word... through the phone... to make you feel just less bad. Toys of deliverance, your hands... your regrets... used up.. like soap. Stolen.

And yes.. clinging onto feelings.. just like bottles.. empty bottles... a display of sensation and ties for the radical man.

Disturbed, distracted, animal... semi-sedentary, pollution, flux, mobility... all through a vetted glass... all through your posession.. all through your life.. outside yourself. Calling for!

Playing games.. memorizing the sentences not to mistake the scene... an alarm call... deep from inside.

Emergency.. states of minds... revolting landscapes... a deep look into yourself.. wordless... feeling... a state of emergency.

Frustrated? Disappointed? we still read the newspapers, we drink coffee, collect stars and one day disappear.... one day we disappear... one day we disappear... as if you'd have forgotten the answers.. cling onto your best fit... that's good enough for now.. we're running out of coffee, we're running out of time... static.

Forgetful... imagined.. just not here but feeling down. Echoed. Waiting. Train schules, departing and arriving... carrying souls within.. delivering fates and crossing the chances all through.... a ball of yarn.

In abscence... musical and redeemed, rolling and rolling... the agents of evil and your own flesh.
Lying to myself and then lying to myself.. lying on the grass... lying on myself.. lying to the grass... in dreams, in sentences, in small pieces of paper, with coloured songs.. amazed and yet so quiet... it's so quiet... given up... lying on my pretensions, lying on my desires, lying to my pretensions... lying in desire.



I emptied my bottle
I walked along the thin line.... I walked on fire
Coming back home
Full of anger
Hitting the roads
Endless searching
Ends meet end
A room for one
Sitting down
Books, rules, me
Time goes by
I'm walking on wires... set on fire
Looking back... outside myself... set
So many names
Souls in the search
Avenging souls and arms
Getting old
Getting high
Feeling right
It's raining outside
Frogs and saints
You gotta catch one baby
Give me a match
I want a smoke
The days are so short as we live
The wire is tearing apart
Close your eyes
We just fell
But bruised
In a musical
The world is burning down
But we're on our own
And we're alright
Once more stolen
The drunkness of fate
An Apolo of your times
Open your mind
Open your arms
You're unfortunate enough to be young
To live
To hurt
It's right there in the kitchen
It's just about you
No one cares
No one says
Just live a day
Live your day
Lie on your day
Lie to your day
Because it's today
And yet we're running out of time
Till we disappear
Like an ode, like a navigation map
Let me have my share
Cut them in shares
This ain't California
Strike me again
There's a deed
There's a fact
There's a song
And so much blood....
Strip it away
Hold on the time
Once more
The world is burning down
But we're ok
And it's sunny
It's morning
It's home
Cling me onto.....

Sunday, May 02, 2004

For God's sake, he's gay!!!

Oh well I'm a bit cheered up from the events of the day although I might say my preoccupations don't easy and they're like antibiotics: they never hurt but one day suddenly kill people. I hope my case will be slightly different....we'll probably be able to get me through this rough period and get me safely into Sweden or even into Iceland, but I really don't know... the future is still uncertain.

But well let's leave that behind, as ministers and government officers seem to be the curse of my life, unfortunately I've never happened to sleep with one but they've indeed taken away from me several nights of sleep with or without companion.

Today is one of those days when my mind is coloured by pink dots if you know what I mean, and no.. no... I'm wearing hills and mama clothes.. I'm just feeling like I must write something about being gay, and probably I owe 90% of the inspiration to Kobi, well... for now you don't know much about Kobi (although probably many of you do) but in the future you will. I'm just trying to fight by all means not to frame him in the gay section of my website neither in my queer talks, for it's not his place.

I wonder what my father would think if he would see what I'm uploading and what I'm using my free time for (and no, he's not in heavens) but still we don't speak the same language, nor we belong to the same religion. In my view, it's wrong to speak the same language than your father or than your neighbour or than anyone else plus it kills the fantasy of awfully spoken non-native English, as we're not so quick to spot other people's mistakes than when they speak our language and the same applies to religion; my biggest complaint about being a Jew is that there're just too many. The mere fact that two people be in the same religion is totally wrong in my view, but my father and I don't have such a problem since we're indeed in different cults. It's probably the only problem we don't have but my father isn't the topic of this blog-note.

I think I wanted to talk a little bit about my gay experience: I think I have something of a twisted and sick gay experience since I never happened to be a party freak but I was in one of the types of freaks indeed, with a totally passive father I developped an almost aggressive character and a very strong sense of independence and I used to spend days after days [absorbed into] almost sexual French novels, symbolist poetry of the overheroicized infant Rimbaud and Justine... such a delicate character... in a France of revolutions, stories of love, passion and pain. That of course didn't constitute my education which was full of Sapho, Plato and Aristotle who apparently have been the most influential gays of all times, not that I'm intending to exaggerate their objects of love and desire in order to justify the perversions seen in Germany and the Netherlands among the gay community in the last decade, but I'm just trying to provoke as should be the rule on an opinionated person like me. It's obvious that those values of love and desire are interpreted differently by the West of today since we based our society upon totems and taboes that we imported from our barbarian origins and that were part of long forlorn mythologies that might concern us in some other opportunity.

It's a kingdom of white gods in armed chariots flying above the sky and I'm trying to be as literal as possible. Those are the antecedents of my gay experience, plus a well learnt conception that homosexuality is something bad and that homosexuals are corrupted individuals that endanger our society with their attitudes; I never came to meet one homosexual (or at least that I knew or could say he was one) until I faces myself altogether with another man, being such one of the strongest experiences of my adolescence which probably forced me to grow up so rapidly, get on a job, go to school and leave home so that I could live a life like those lives lead by the homosexuals shown in the American TV. I don't mean to admire them but listen, I was 15 years old and the world was on my hands so I made the best choices I could within my limited knowledge.

We were all sons of Ally McBeal and Sex & the City and by choice sons of the bitch. And probably we have learnt those prejudices against ourselves from the same sources. The frustration of going against the nature and the insatisfaction of the merciless gay relationships.

Americans say they just can't stick to the same couple for more than a certain period of time; Europeans say they just can't fall in love because it doesn't happen overnight, we can sleep together but it doesn't mean we have to get married and if we do so it's not necessarily out of love. Whereas Israelis are not one and not the other; they're eternally wandering... like waiting for a cab when you've got a cabriolet car; nothing is ever good enough for them... regardless of your sizes, economic position, skin colour, family, profession, income, etc. There's always someone on top of you and that's the fucking eye of the storm.

Whenever I heard fall in love's and I love you's I can't do anything but freak out over my own inability to tackle with feelings in the modern world. And yes, I was made probably to be borne a thousand years ago but funnily enough I fit perfectly this generation: Electronic coffee, sleeping pills, a portable computer that constitutes a third leg and a third arm, lust for isolation, escapism from the pressure, unspeakable days and unthinkable segments of time. When I was born (back in the 80's) there wasn't such a thing as the Internet or mobile phones but they came up just long enough as not to remember it and challenged the course of the future.

I upgraded my boring personality to the virtual requirements which included e-books, a pocket pc, electronic agendas, online banking and other assortments of different flavours, just like the red fish and the herring. My personal development as a gay young man was already highly delimitated by the customs the internet introduced into my society and so I grew up; in a world of free sex and mediatic violence and I learnt to live like that striving to be better than others so that me being just as bitchy as the rest of them wouldn't be looked upon sorely on the ground of my education and talents. It's a very selfish position to find oneself in to say frankly but truth is, I'm not here to tell little fairy tales.

Today I'm almost 20 years old and my father who is older than me only 20 years doesn't know that I'm gay, although I think he does but it's just too hard to accept than I am like one of those weird and sick creatures he used to tell me stories about in the days of my wicked childhood, not that I regret it all.

My point is not to justify myself by being deep in the closet since I think half the world already knows I'm gay not because I'm queerish or because may I wear hills on Friday night, just because it was a personal decission. I'm not the party type, I'm not an activist, I know coercion is there and that fuzzy ladies in a caravan will not be enough to fight it, just like anti semitism.

One good friend used to tell me I shouldn't be surprised since being gay was becoming so fashionable in the world. Is is really fashionable? I think being gay is just as good and bad as being Jewish, listen you have a great time most of your life and you live like half the world wishes to live, but you only have to protect your ass so that they don't screw you royally, and it's not exactly about sex that I'm talking about.

Prejudices against homosexuality are nothing but part of the structure of society itself. I'm myself prejudiced against homosexuality somehow as I'm tired of all those useless queers and Jewish American princesses sitting by the tables in the coffee shops of my city as if there was nothing else to life. Not that heterosexuals are much better but probably this kind of femenine violent criticism and snobism looks a lot worse in men than in women. Against prejudices, Can't I just let gays, men and women live as they please?

The answer is no, because someone has to undertake some kind of criticism that leads towards the creation of a sustainable society. If 25% of the world population and 40% of the masculine population in the United States is infected with AIDS by the year 2040 will we be talking the same shit? Because actually I'm uncertain whether the Scandinavians or the Japanese will be doing any better by then or their environment as for another determinant.

I don't mean to change the world since it's been changed enough times by more than one imbecile and that's how things turned out, but I just enjoy the privilege of the dual perspective from my gay experience.

I don't want to philosophisize about gay life, as Sapho certainly couldn't explain to me the mysteries of Beverly Hills and Seanfield and I don't mean to trouble her trouble mind.

Let's leave this as a simple not orderly talk on genders.

I'm better off going for the fish once more

It's hunting seasons for visas and scholarships and let's not have my father reading this, as we discussed before he and I belong to different faiths and still I can't forget his reaction upon finding out a colleague of his being gay: Oh dear! for God's sake! he's gay!

Bolshevik-Soviet Red Fish

Well today I had a very varied assortment of dishes for lunch...

Just one night after having discussed how the Bolshevik red fish of years back was now haute cuisine in the latest of fashions I came to experience it myself.

It wasn't only about the media ownership bill in Iceland.

This morning I decided to chat up some interestingly good looking guy whose name I don't remember. We talked for the first time not long ago and it was an apparently interesting and smart choice, maybe not for a lover but for some distraction well whatever it might be.... just nice in general and our last conversation ended with a warm "talk to you soon", and oh well worthwhile mentioning he was a bit stoned.

Today we came across each other and talked about the events of the weekend; as usual in my home-like life there wasn't anything to be thrilled about... just my usual books, online fora and sleeping in...

But he... the interestingly good looking guy.. he had a story to tell.. about the 1st of May! He told me about the Communist March of the 1st of May... and then I could only re call my experiences with the communist factions at the national university back in time in South America...

That was not really herring... just some cheap cod.. young boys imbuided by the books of Marx, Hegel and Schlegel allied in a boycott against the police where they fought for human civil rights in Nepal, Afghanistan and Peru. But wasn't their behaviour itself a threat against the human rights of non-communist students? of the policemen wifes and children or of the citizen whose businesses closed or whose houses are damaged or pepper gas spread over their corridors?

And if I'm going to fight for Algerian human rights I think it's easier to look at the Palestinians first, at least it is for me. I can't skip the white sauce when I eat the salmon, since it's served all together... and I shouldn't go around skipping courses either....

He told me about his comrades and I told him what I thought. I'm simply a normal person, educated in a calvinist society and whose main aim is progress and for whom communism doesn't represent a major challenge.

Right after this so-called friend just sent me to hell, because I'm not a communist sympathizer.

How many communist attacked the Jews and how many Jews were attacked because they believed them communists? LOL

As difficult to believe as it seems Israel's strong support is in the right wing conservative religious factions that support the chosen ones regardless of what they do.

The secular left not so,

But this is not my concern now

My concern is that, in my own country and with my people I can still taste that Bolshevik red fish, that was served on my table this morning as a speciality, as "haute cuisine".

I personally was used to the small shrimps in delicate and perfectly calculated segments of time and space... no rush... no violence... no pressure
Time for a ride?

But fish is a hot potato today

Not only in Iceland

But right here.... below my feet