sábado, 22 de octubre de 2011

The realisation that I still don't know what I'm doing here,
Put in perspective I am nothing,
It feels like something has been wasted, and I am fading
Time is growing against me as I grow tired of being
Just another soul spent searching for something inside,
I hate my fucking guts, I hate desire, I hate lust,
I hate humanity, I hate instinctively, I hate this fucking world for fucking hating me

The chasm in my chest
Screams of resounding emptiness
I've never tasted this bitterness
I never felt this solitude, worthlessness

So what great vision is this to sail amongst the vast indifference?
Accept a trail to hollow senses, where only tragedy breaks the numbness
So what great epiphany, will spell out beneath my feet?
Chain my wrists, and admit defeat, imprisoned by 'the clarity'
So is this destiny, a doubtful life, feeling empty?
Worst of all to make me guilty, blindest of the blind, telling me to see
I might hate this world, I might hate myself
But I wont be a wasted soul, another ghost like everyone else

martes, 4 de octubre de 2011

Y ahora, quien cuidara de nosotros?


Wishful Thinking. The album leaf.

jueves, 11 de agosto de 2011

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free
Har har, har har, har har, har har

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
You were made to meet your maker




Tu despertaste mi alma. Gracias.

viernes, 22 de julio de 2011

De que sirvo?

jueves, 21 de julio de 2011

martes, 5 de julio de 2011

This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.
This fucking shit.This fucking shit.

lunes, 27 de junio de 2011

Intentare ser mas tolerante.

Mi lenguaje es el de la calle, de ahí es de donde provengo.

Hasta el pito de estereotipos.

Hay gente que puede tratar mal a los demás, y bien, si luego se le tratan mal a dicha persona tan solo accede a "borrar comentario" y hecho. Incluso leyendo esto no se daría por aludido.

De que sirve decir lo que piensas si luego cuando no estas conforme con las criticas te quedas callado pensando en mejor no haberlo dicho.