05/07/2008

Ciudad sanación

Contiene los secretos de la sanación en sus calles saturadas. Chinatown de mañana. Chinatown for lunch. Las recetas ancestrales son posibles. Como aquel quiropráctico de la TV: “¿Tiene dolor?”. Y la propuesta personal es solo una caminada con el olor del pescado fresco, esperar a que sean las diez de la mañana para que lo que se necesita aparezca. Es cuestión de alguna gota o un round pill. O simplemente ese “ten qiu sel” y el attitude. Los manes saben todo sobre el healing. Como en Alice de Woody Allen y lo invisible.

Una fórmula de healing e invisibilidad: una hielera llena y un vino blanco. Solo para días calientes y en blanco.

05/04/2008

Inminente Chinatown

Inminente viaje a Chinatown. Dolor repentino mientras dormía. Siempre los pienso como fugas, como ciertos sueños. Algo está saliendo. Pero mientras pasa es agudo. No vale ni parado, ni sentado, ni acostado. Dolor. Siempre la gran prueba. O seguir con lo planes o descansar de verdad. El crossroad.

Puedo arriesgar cuatros horas. Parar en Chinatown, tres round pills, otro baño y simplemente al piso. "Duerme en el piso", decía Ignacio. No es solo cuestión del trac en la espalda cada vez que se estira. ¿Y si tengo algo más? Nada. Estamos para otras cosas.

04/28/2008

Moartea domnului Lazarescu

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It could be that the host took it very personal since the Romanian Cinema Then and Now at the Film Society at Lincoln Center was like his baby. He introduced a very hard and long film but there was no reason no get up and leave. That was a little bit too much from him, but he was right about mostly everything. The Death of Mr. Lazarescu —Lazarescu Dante Remus— is a thriller. Almost three hours of suspense, waiting for death.

It is dark when the uncompassionate doctors are around. It is sad when the nurse speaks. It is devastating when is about Mr. Lazarescu. A lonely man. The story could be some place else.

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Quería saludar a las activity partners por la disposición. Salud.

04/22/2008

Heart beats to move from the nightmares

The nightmares are over. I woke up and the orange line that surrounds the shapes of the walls was back. The walk outs in the underworld are over these season. As I opened the window my ship was there and I saw the fisherman gathering at the escollera. Bright day also. Juliana woke up while I cleaned the ship and made delicious coffee. She is back in shorts. She is back in the house and put her wings in its land case. I just love when that happens. It means she is going to stay for the whole summer. I will hear her breathing and heart beats. She will be dancing the music I bought in the past months and her brother's music. Something for the tortured soul as she defines it.

Both Sirdo and Pula have changed the furniture. This is what we call the Don Justo Café from the Amazon. It is about a white background, ironworks, random gentle people and mid size palm trees. Deities in the house. Prayers for them.