Don't I manage to love?
Where should I find new things to discover?
Inside myself?
Is that all?

Dear, are you happy?

Once, I promised:
"I will never do the same they did to me".

Oh, mummy,
what are you doing just now?
Are you thinking of me?
Are you cooking for father?
Are you here?

It has been a long time
(it's difficult for me to remember this expression), 
since I've not heard about my Irish angel.

He blocked public access to his friends on facebook to me,
so I thought, obviously, it had been because of my fault: trying to speak to a friend of him (maybe his potential girlfriend, still worse, the woman of his life! So it was a big intrusion, speaking about correctness.
(but I guess this things might happen in the facebook wide world, so, then, why so many faces on it?).
Then, I blocked him for ever (for ever!) in my facebook list of friends.
So I've not seen him for a long time, now.

I can live with or without him, of course.
It was only my imagination.
That's all I can induct from all that.
See you, my mystic love, anyway.

Dear you,
I'm writing this letter because I have nobody else to talk to.
Today it has been terrible, I would say,
but how can it be?
I've been surrounded
by people I work with,
I have a book to read by Friday,
a possible grant for a summer course,
a professional goal,
an online course to deal with,
piles in the bum,
cockroaches in the kitchen.
Bye,

I would never live far away from home.
My brother, at hospital,
my mother, taking care of all her flowers,
my father, growing up,
where would they be?
And him, an impossible dream.
Take things as they are, dear,
I tell to myself.
No heart, no pain.

I feel tired, as I was one hundred years old,
but tomorrow I might feel better,
without all these obstacles to overcome in front of me.

Tomorrow I might get up very very Early,
and take a lot of coffee with a little of milk,
and not to need anything in the whole day but working, quietly.

I have completely no words.
Since you cut that umbilical union,
my friend Gabriela told me you were right to get ungry.
So now I have, absolutely, nothing to get said.

Life

What about me being a musician?
I've always tried hard with the violin,
but nobody has never told me I'am doig well!

So, what else can I try?
I'm styding law and economy,
me, who has never discussed about this!
I'm trying hard, really!

If I never told you,
I'm doing my best,
happy afterall!

It's Otis Redding, and his "Dock of the bay" fault!

I am feeling (am feeling?) without guilty,
I've always liked doing things well!
But if I don't find myself,
whose fault is it?

Avui he aprofitat el dia.
L'amor ha sortit a Fires,
ha fet el dinar, la migdiada.
Ha anat a l'hort quan encara plovia.

Jo he escrit 10 pàgines a mà,
baixat pel·lícules,
llegit sentències,
mirat una guia de Dublin.

That time

That time, I was completely wrong.
But I know something new, now.

I moved two steps forward,
and one backwards: it is another way of telling it.

Another way, it would be: I've lost,
but did anything need to be changed?

There is no need to scape.

Querido Ser,

Te quiero recordar que no has hecho todavía aquello que debías hacer.

Aquí abajo somos muchos, y la prisa aprieta.

Te damos las gracias por todo,

pero, si no te importa, vamos pasando,

y no hace falta que cierres la puerta al salir.

Ara, diria: "Així doncs, com va?
Com és que no m'has trucat?"
Però només m'ho estic imaginant.

Now, I would say: "So, how is it going?
Why didn't you call me?"
But I am only imagining it.

This other life that I have, you know, I'm really  happy in.
I do whatever I want, whenever I want, the way that I do.

Feelings are allowed; you encounter yourself;
your loved ones are there!

Everything is as simple as this box that I have:
you put things inside, then when you need them,
you take things them out, and use them.

It's like cooking:
you cut things a lot,
you mix all them up,
and the fire do all the rest!

You can not imagine what a word from you might cure:
green, pink, red, orange, yellow. Have you seen?
If you knew all that I don't let me to say!

So you decided to let me exist!

THANK YOU!

(I know it has to be me

that let this go away,

as dirty water in the sink.

But, could anybody understand?

What does this kind of music make me feel like?

People who has given up smoking,

they may be.)

How much love!
And what to do with the whole of it!

Entro hores.
Subtil, l'aire s'escola per sota la porta.
Entren i surten, la gent.

Un gir a l'esquerre,
la cosa més bella
una capseta xinesa
que hi guardo, preciosa,
el teu misteri.

A LA FEINA

Entomo la meva ànima:
Treballar i tenir mal de cap
són fruit de la mateixa història.
Ella ha après que cal vèncer;
jo aprenc que em sé deixar vèncer.

Falten anys perquè s'acabi,
uns quants encara en falten.

En fa molts que ja no escric,
en fa molts que ja no canto.

És quan dormo que hi veig clar;
torno a començar.