Paweł Olszewski Z Bargłówki

Cael, 2011

We report, we have friends, we
trains, the laughter, the bars, we
doubt and faith, sumo and I, we
motels, cabins, and altars. We

emergency, loves to kill, we
silence, snuff, reasons, we
Venice, we have Manhattan, we
ashes of revolutions.

We have shoes, proudly present
have manners, modesty, wheezing,
we face, we have the teeth, saliva
, cynicism, insanity, desire. We

sex and rock and drugs
foot in the neighborhood, and the outcry, we
Quintero, León and Quiroga, Bisnes
and a slope with Pedro Botero.

More than one hundred words, over a hundred reasons not to cut
a gash veins, over a hundred pupils
where to see us live more than a hundred lies
worthwhile.

We have a hidden ace up its sleeve, we
nostalgia, piety, insolence, Fellini
nuns, priests Berlanga,
poison hangover, perfume, violence.

We have a ceiling with books and kisses,
have the illness, jealousy, blood, mist
we stuck to the bones,
have the luxury of not being hungry. We

Achilles heels without funds,
Sunday clothes, no flag,
summer clouds, wars of Macondo,
mushrooms in November of spring fever.

Bowers, magazines, hallways, guns,
that matter, sorry, hastasiempre, I love you
Atleti fans, gangsters Coppola, Veronica and room
Curro Romero. We

evil of melancholy,
thirst and anger, noise and nuts, we
water and twice a day,
the holy miracle of loaves and fishes. We

lolitas, we gallants;
Lennon and McCartney, Gardel and Le Pera,
have horoscopes, Bibles, Korans,
ramblas on the moon, virgin wax. We

shipwrecks
dream beaches of islands are named neither law nor routine
have wounds, we medals,
laurels of glory, crown of thorns. We

whims, inflatable dolls,
fallen angels, sailing boats, poor
delicious, rich miserable
Tooth Fairy, toothache. We

projects withered,
perfect crimes not committed, bridal portraits
forgot us,
and soul on offer than ever sold.

We have poets, hung, rogue
Quixote and Sancho, Babel and Sodom,
grandparents who always won battles,
roads led to Rome than ever. Joaquín Sabina

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Post watered

Not really.
What I did reflect on Christmas or do anything of the things we say should be done at this time. My celebrations decembrinas
revolve around three things: family, friends and food.
Everything else I am supposed to do throughout the year, sometimes successfully, sometimes with some considerable achievements.
spends Christmas and one begins to suffer the hangover not only alcohol and tamales, but also the void left with the "What, is over? Well decorated, light and stress to all happen so fast? ".
And here we are again encarrerados in daily routine.
still not over the weekend and I'm in La Ciudad de la Furia because tomorrow I teach some courses early.
I love these days not to think not.
And I love the gifts, the ultimate meaning of these dates.
Santa arrived a few weeks ago at home. The dwarves wanted a Kinect, which were saving for several months and the last time we had to go to El Paso we're buying, but also bought them as Christmas gift, a new Xbox because he was having quite washed. We had to give them together as coming in the same box, with the caveat that there would be no more gifts.
At first the dwarves were pretty happy but as they advanced the days they realized it was too boring to get to 25 without expecting anything.
To Fefe and me Instead, it was great because we had no kids screaming on the bed at six o'clock. Unfortunately
see the excitement of the children is a wonderful drug and could not refrain from buying anything else for that do have a neatly wrapped box to break away despair.
talk was extremely fun to wake up at eleven in the morning and tell them he had gifts in the room.
not believe me.
I told them there a couple of boxes and if not raised in five seconds I would keep myself.
Very curious distrust but chopped rose.
William began to open the box and Harry looked at him. Asked why not open yours probably said that because there was nothing inside so you better wait. Just saw that William got a new video game pounced on the box and found a music player and an album of Queen.
What fun is playing with the feelings of children.
If not for this that are parents, do not know why.

follows the year-end celebration. Pinchi
year and everyone wants to finish even with the certainty that the next could be worse.
But the limits are always significant.

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Deveras people to get tough on these dates.

Today I got a gift shop to goofing off, basically because now, the money last straw in the maelstrom consumerist afflicts me once a year.
In that saw a diffuser of those exotic aromatic oils and said "Why not?" or would the grandfather of a friend: "Why not, slug?". So with so much substance itself persuaded me.
took the diffuser as a teterita little stove top, you know right? and went to pay.
in that a woman asked me where I had found. I replied and she complained of not finding any. I took her where they were and said, "is that there is but not like you bought, was the last." In my infinite goodness
seasonal told could be mine and I would buy another.
We went two to the box and that's when I realized that my new diffuser was more expensive.
- Ah, dammit ... that I gave was cheaper ...
At that time the holiday spirit should have forced the woman to respond, "Do not worry, for your sacrifice, I will pay the difference." Then I would have said, magnanimous and generous, "Noooo, but how you think ... if this is it this time ...". She would have insisted again and again as a courtesy I would have refused. And so the two would be happy.
But no.
She said "Yes" Veda? " and I had no choice to say: "Give me back my diffuser, as it no longer liked me so much."

Deveras than a day after Christmas is you never know where you got the courtesy and kindness "Veda? Happy holidays

then.

* * * * *

Another thing you can do at this time is going to Palace and leave a candle as on claim of outrage and demanding justice . Already

go fifteen hundred.

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Last year I wrote about what it meant to get Lucky the sink to drink water.

"Every time I see him over the sink I can not help wondering what the hell thinks Lucky. I think it reflects, and its reflection is not strictly scientific but philosophical.
Maybe she thinks like Heraclitus, that everything is always moving or perhaps trying to capture, as Parmenides, the substance that never changes, which always remains in the stream of water leaking but that will be part of a whole (please, do not require you to contrast to other philosophers, a cat). "

I had been satisfied with this, but recently I read this article that made me question again the reasons for my cat to take water from the sink.

Conclusion: Lucky is not a philosopher. In fact, unlike their counterparts, do not know anything about physics.

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Alma traveling

The difficulty prevailing in the act of imagining the day when we are no longer capable of thinking, means that we should walk inventing things about what will happen after our deaths.

girl I saw a material world, a great forest where people, plants and animals lived together in harmony.
a teenager I imagined that this world should be spiritual, but did not understand how. What could we be doing there? "Flying from one place to another?
Then, years later, from my reading of science fiction saw the world being just energy. On another level, another dimension, but we were not missing energy and building their human bodies from time to time and much effort, a tear that does not hurt to have more physical contact.

truth I do not even know I'm pretty sure if I want.

My biggest concern now is my funeral.
At first he wanted me cremated. And then my ashes would be placed in delicate tulle bags, which quinceañera remember with rose petals and monkeys, with the inscription "Thanks for coming to my funeral" or "Maybe I played a nacha." Today I changed
mind. Cremation is very polluting.
Being stuck in a box I do not like much either.

I think the best environmental option is to be placed directly under the earth. O on it. I'm imagining that would not be bad to leave me lying on a beach with the sun's rays warm the sand. And naked. That is very important because I've never been to a nude beach. Gradually gaviotitas crabs and they would realize that I move and would not work.
So yes I can see this life after death.
I will not have a human consciousness so I do not think as such. Maybe I'll consciousness of sand, fish, poultry, seafood. Maybe not no such thing. But I'm not going to matter because my human consciousness will be extinguished.

things one thinks when he's on the road and cuts you an asshole.

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William is having problems with fractions. Fefe feel to study with him and William get more frustrated.
"Look, it's easy" says her father and explains the method, at which the baby is frustrated even more.
Fefe I have to tell apart that there is nothing more sad for the little versed in these arts that tell us we are easy because then we feel even more useless. So I feel
William and Fefe and try to reason the problems. Le I say that I also struggled but we are not going to win. William gradually calm, dry their tears and understands the problem that cost me both understand. Gives the solution and continue. Fefe is trying to solve the problem with their methods. William and I smiled.

Harry came today from school with red eyes. We said that the class made a contest Conversation. They formed teams. Each member drew a slip of paper and according to the promise he played had to sing a song. They had a minute to remember and get one point for each word. Harry's team arrived at 9 points and tied with another team. They lacked a word to give them the 10 to all equipment on this unit. His team chose to L and the other to K, who incidentally is the girl who likes to L. L took the piece of paper and touched the word "love."
- Love, Mom! He could sing "Somebody to Love", "All you need is love", "Love the way you lie!" But no, he left to lose for winning team K. He sacrificed his team for a girl!
After listening I do not know whether to laugh or mourn with him wanted so much to that 10.
then calmed down and even told us that before starting the competition the teacher said: "We will make sure a game and everyone will choose to Harry in his team."
I tell him at the inn on Saturday and on Sunday there will be karaoke and I say maybe sing a little. *****

rooted idea that does that the best stage in life is children. And they tell the children by all means. The truth is that it is a lie. I had a wonderful childhood but nothing came back to my school days. What flojerísima.

children hear us complain about our responsibilities, our uneasiness as they live their own problems to finish thinking that if it is supposed to be the best time, what happens when they grow up. Of course, so who is going to grow.

have to reassess our thirties, forties, fifties ... Do not tell a parent not be independent, self-sufficient, bringing Lanit in your pocket - even for chewing gum, cigarettes and coffee -?

'll keep telling my children that this time is precious and to be prepared, because by living as they expected to be more than happy adulthood.

Is not it cool to tooodo so now we can do?

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What's done is done

As I watched my lank hair falling on the floor, I thought the variety of hairstyles that I will not be able to use (and which in the end I do not know how to make, nor do I have the patience, grace or skill) and I saw scroll through all my friends and their beautiful hair in front of me.

passed first to the many who envy their gray hair. He has black hair, straight, shiny, silver crossed by streaks of light. It leads not bother coloring. And it looks beautiful. Neither seems to have time to comb and also address their work in promoting cultural and meet his family. Then I thought Li
often twisted take his clothes to match with colorful and dreamy lashes. Her skirts are moved back and forth with it, if it is its association with another, and after a meeting of women to another and from one activity to another citizen. Beautiful
both.

Needless to say my fat. L that has the wildest Chinese and knows how to bring together with feline eyes and dark skin, so according to his strong character and yet cuddly, like a kitten then transformed into a lioness. Our beloved W
the smartest blond, tasty and willing the universe. Always perfectly groomed, wearing his green big eyes and causing all sorts of passions around her. Generous to all and all (how could deny the world such tastiness?)
Of course, my godmother ... with his perfect smile and his dimples (dimples woman with a bad woman) who would have no comb. And even if it does, or use a bit of makeup is beautiful and no man who knows no love was fatally ill. And
G, which makes the hair outside their modus vivendi, and knows how to port it over glamorous, combed or carded, red, green or blue wig and without a wig, the jicama made woman.

I think of them and all others, and fuck, what are precious.

I will not compare. None
compared.
You too, my friends who read me, and I know through many letters, they are beautiful, I know.

Serve this post as a tribute to the women I live and I live and as a memorial to the hairs are gone, and the woman who was no longer with both epithelium. Health

, with my cup of coffee!