Somewhere

Sometimes whenever you´re listening to music, strange things configure inside your head...
You try to write down all those disordered ideas and something appears on your page, what people call: poetry...
well this piece of mind I puke last night is dedicated to my good friend Kriszti, I hope she feels better...
well I think she´s the only one who reads this :P...



Somewhere

What sense has sense?
We will constantly construct beatiful castles that will crumble
We will see patterns in the wreckage
I was born and you were born out of the inmense chaos
I can still see you between the powder of stars,
saling between metorites...
concerned about the storm that its approaching,
wondering if your little raft will endure.

As much as we follow the compass to the north,
we are going nowhere...
We mantain the belief that we can orient ourselfs in a vast universe where there´s no up or down.
Now you call me: Error,
because even inside me, you can not find meaning,
only the sensation of an abyss that gets deeper,
and that you are afraid to look at.

You started writting down infinite series of numbers,
continuos chains with enourmous signs,
and still you can not deduct the beginning...
oh strange matemathician!
nothing is written; there are no formulas behind.
The divine language is: coincidence.
Thus, I continued traveling between dreams,
doing long meditations on each disconnection,
Getting lost inside pages with well known letters,
waiting to concide with you at a place, a dream, a date, an event...
somewhere...
inspired by: track 9
litanic mask
http://sweatingtapes.bandcamp.com/album/a-compilation-volume-1-portland