Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I think it's time for a movie, it's about 3:30 am, and we're trying to figure out creepy things. But I must admit, it's FUN!
We got some letters today, which I'm sure my neighbor will hate, I think I'll soon be getting his letter too, besides the phone calls at 7:00 am, when it's too early after spending the first three hours of the day watching movies. (yehays!)

Are they married?

No, I think it's just your bad, sleepy reading...

Oh yeah, they're tired..

I don't really care about the letter, I'm not 18 yet...

Which is.... erm, (?)

I mean I'd love to...

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in , | Posted on Monday, June 29, 2009


I tried, I really did. I thought summer was going to be a very creative time, that was of course untill i remembered it is the time where no one ever does anything (around me at least). I tried to make a poem, I tried to construct a story, and maybe I could have, but you know how much I critizise and hate stupid formulas. I couldn't really feel a story, because despite the power of it, it doesn't come with a feeling, at least just yet.

What is this thing I talk about you may ask. Well, it is but a fragment of the lyrics of a song. The original song contanining them has very little to do with the meaning I gave to it, and it is not even a piece of song that goes together, which is in part what gives it more magic. And well, I shall end with the hype and explain myself.

There is this Franz Ferdinand song (been referring to does a lot huh?) No you girls, in the song the guy speaks about how girls don't understand how they make guys feel, and then reflects on the fact that guys don't even bother to try to understand, so it's a mess.

It's a good song and all, but what I rescued from it was that halfway the beggining he says "I love , I mean I'd love to get to know you", and then he proceeds and halfway to the end he says "I love, I mean I need to love you". Now you may just be wondering, Why on Earth would the bitter penguin be talking about love and cheesy songs?

Well, it is not a cheesy song. You see, this statement is first saying that he's about to (probably) say "I love you" but he retracts, and says something like "I'd love to get to know you". As if he was this clueless romantic guy, who's about to say I love you due to clumsyness. But instead, instead of being straight forward, he just drops a casual "Let's get to know each other". Denying the feelings, playing it cool. And well, that is kind of dorky if you ask me, necesary, but dorky.

Then, the song proceeds and he extends more the argument, and in a story-telling mode, time in that "relationship" passes, maybe a year, maybe five seconds. And he says "I love, I mean I need to love you". And while this just may seem a simple "I love you" it is not, not for me at least.

You see, it is going back to the confession, going back to revealing his inner though, and he surrenders to it, he's going to say it. And you think he's going to back down with the "I mean.." but he doesn't, he does not only gives into it, but he goes deep down rock bottom. This time he doesn't just confess but gives in completely.

And that is a very poetic figure in my taste, it is not cheesy, it is not formal, it is even childish. It is a tango dance of backing down and then stepping forward.


That or maybe I'm just some crazy ass penguin making up stories (I know it is actually this option...) but well, the point is that this got to me in such a way because, while the penguin hasn't written any romantic autobiography (not by choice), I strongly believe it would be like that. Because not only with saying I love you I'm like that, but with everything, which is something some (almost no one) could confirm.

I'd love to get to know you

by I'm the penguin


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, June 28, 2009


mind the typo

I'm a social

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, June 27, 2009


by I'm the penguin

Hidden messages

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, June 26, 2009


You know you're getting indirect messages from the universe when suddenly your car's filled with the following flyers:
-Religious music
-AA, drug, etc, centers
-Study in canada
-Watermelon sculptures (?)
-Pare de sufrir

The message, i mean, it's not that i'm a drunk, or in need of watermelon sculptures... (oh, wait!..)
I think people spend a very (stupid) large amount of paper in stupid things that I'm not actually reading,
but the actual message is, I think, that I seriously need to clean my car...

Au heart

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, June 25, 2009


You see him, you see him talk and he seems dull. He is dull. You see how very few people are around him, and others just say he's sort of smart and funny (looking). You try and see for yourself, you talk to him, he is indeed sort of smart and funny (looking). He's witty and knows his way around sarcasm, which makes conversation bearable with him. Then you dicovered he is very opinionated. But when you want to dig deeper, go further, you hit rock. You realize he is just that, wit and sarcasm, no feelings, no true emotions; or so you think. So you conclude he is this emotionally creepled person who one day will have to be healed into a funtional human being.

Then the rock turned out to be a door, which you hadn't seen. You knock, and the buttler opens. Your discover he, (the penguin of course), in fact has feelings, emotions. You discover he can like poeple, even care for them and be nice. You find au heart, solid or croocked, but au heart. And you see that the mine was deeper, that in there, there are things you wouldn't have though real, things you know people outside cannot and will not ever see.

But once you are there you also realize how very falsely dark it is, you know there is no dark, sad or sick story behind the penguin, so the dark in there seems very unnatural, the sad rather chosen and the sick a 24-hour cold. And then you wonder if it is really deep what you're seeing, and you conclude he is this emotionally creepled person who one day will have to be healed into a functional human being.

And after you have witnessed all that, you come across creations, aliterations and rhymes (beatless rhymes) about this depth, you find that it is rather a vault than a secret passage, or a deeper tunnel. You see that you are not so away from the others, that infact, there was no true trascendence. And so you find that this whole time, the penguin was just some bidimensional entity with enough time and resources to full the double eyed and the clever. You are dissapointed.

And while you are there, if there was ever anyone ever there, you walk around, and out of the blue this weird field opens. It shows more, more fo the same, yet you know this one has no intruder filter, like all the past doors. These are no longer defenses or locks or jokes. You found a real deal, of the same sort of thing you always saw, but if you have been there long enough, you know this time it is different. Of course there will be some that won't tell the difference. But you will, you will see it and be amazed, and reckon there is au heart, a truely Au heart.

Then something distracts your attention and it all vanishes. You suppose that last part was an illusion.

Or was it not?

by I'm the penguin


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, June 24, 2009


I wanted to share this, I think it is just amazing,
<<El universo>>, piensa Raimundo Velloz, <<¡qué tontería!>>. La unidad patraña de metafísico. (Él es egresado del National Central.) No hay un universo, hay millones y millones uno dentro de otro y dentro de cada uno otro y dentro de cada otro cinco, diez,catorce universos variados y distintos.Le gustan las series concéntricas de pensamientos,columnillas de conceptos en connotación creciente y decreciente.Se parte del grano de café,la cafetera que lo contiene,la cocina que contiene la cafetera,la casa que contiene la cocina,la manzana que contiene...Y se puede seguir por las dos puntas de la imagen,por el grano de café que involucra mil universos,y el universo del hombre que es un universo dentro de quién sabe cuántos universos,que tal vez-y se acuerda de haberlo leído-es solamente un pedacito de la suela del zapato de un niño cósmico que juega en un jardín (cuyas flores serán naturalmente las estrellas).El jardín forma parte de un país que forma parte de un universo que es un pedacito de diente de ratón apresado en una ratonera puesta sobre la mesa de un desván en una casa de arrabal.El arrabal forma parte...Un pedacito de cualquier cosa pero siempre un pedacito,y la magnitud es una ilusión que casi da lástima.
Mudanza, Julio Cortázar

[this IS actually literaire and soon, (i hope) I'll do my own literaire posting, when the mood comes, although for now I'd rather post something as bazzingaa! as the text above, which is just.. brilliant.]

Primary Colours

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Ok, enough with the time travelling for me,
now my calendar is updated and I have no excuse (of course I do!)
But for now, let's say I don't... you in the other hand my penguin friend...
Mmm well, I wanted to share this song,!


Immortal fantasies

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Monday, June 22, 2009


Among many varied collective fantasies, one which stands out the most is escaping death, continue living forever, be infinite. And while the possibilities of this have been shown to be inexistent, and that it would be something hard to explain technically, people keep imagining this, it continues to show in any expression of society’s dreams and desires. It is a common argument for a story, or the causing plot for many myths, like drinking from the Holy Grail, or the fountain of youth, or Highlander. There is a big fascination of man about dead, but even a bigger impact in the thought of escaping it.

There are many sayings in all sorts of formats that they all speak about how we will all end up dead, and this is the only official universal truth for all the human species: we all die, everything dies. It is a debatable reasoning, but the only thing in common with every person on Earth is that one day or another we will no longer be among the living. Another thing is that as we know, dead is a part of life’s cycle, there must be a closure for there to be a new beginning, it is basic understanding of cycles. So why would we want this immortality thing? Why would we want to lose the only thing that bounds us to humanity? Why disrupt the equilibrium?

I think some of the reason is really between those questions. Because when we always see the (very cliqued by now) villain who goes to great extents to become immortal, we can see traces of lack of humanity in them. It is more as if they want to renounce humanity and become something else, something that does not share a common future, and something that will not end up in the same place. That something is at the same time horrifying and brilliant, a being that escaped termination, that will forever be.

That is also most of the magic behind most magic creatures that live forever, an example: vampires. Beyond the blood-sucking and author-given-super-powers the vampire literature is so popular and mystic because of their immortality, and not just because they live for a long time and have stories to tell, but because of their detachment to the world, their lack of humanity that is made by the disconnection from the common goal, the universal finish line.

The sole concept of living forever, experiencing thousands of years more, rounding the Earth without fear, it all sounds very daring, unnatural, fantastic. But how much would life be worth then? Because if we cannot die, then there would be no reason to fear, to be safe, to care about anything. Our concept of life is defined to protect it and do anything possible so it is long enough to become happy at some point(, or at least that’s what we like to say). But what good is it if we don’t have to take care of it? Do we only concentrate on being happy? For how long? It sure should long for quite some time. Because with this reasoning we go back to vampires, who because of their immortality and need to kill to “survive” become monsters, dark creatures who live from getting life from others, feed their empty existences with the end of a life.

And sure, fear to dead is a great reason to consider, we do not know what is then. Some believe in heaven, some in reincarnation, others in many varied sorts of believes, but there is also the very disturbing, very empty option that there is simply no then. That you just cease to exist and that is it, no more of your person ever, of your essence, all left of you are memories, which you don’t even know to be accurate or good.

That indeed is a great fear any reasoning human has felt, or should felt. Because this same feeling is what makes us want to leave legacy, so transcend, to leave a mark in the world that we ever existed. Throughout history we can see a great number of people who have done extraordinary things to transcend, to be remembered. And I don’t really believe this people would be so remembered, or have done so great things if they hadn’t had an “ultimatum”, a dead line to do something of great magnificence that starts from your first breath until your last.

So, while the mere thought of being invulnerable creatures, beyond humanity, beyond any limit ever known, is very appealing and amusing, we should also consider the meaning of what immortality would mean. We would not only loose the connection with humanity in the we all die sense, but also in the actual living life sort of way. And what I really mean by this is that there is no real life without dead, and it is never a meaningful dead unless it is a meaningful life that has ended.

[while i don't condone the time traveling as well, and have my reasons to do it, I at least try to keep a "literaire" posting, I hope you remember what that is my dearest kite]
by I'm the penguin

Free time!

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, June 21, 2009


Live in my houseeee...
Well, since the last days I'm actually blogging traditionally, it wouldn't matter if I talk a little more about what I'm doing when I have nothing to do.
Erm, I'm spending a lot of time in the computer.
I'm not looking for the place to do my pro-practices.
Damn it!
I'm going to the movies!
I'm listening to my iPod 24/7.
I'll go to a picnik.
I'll watch lots of dvd's
I'll go to the movies!
I'm reading.
I'm eating Mac&Cheese (which is what you do when your family cooks meat)


We have to do that camping trip...

Oh yes, I love vacation...
[great pic bubbo-tubbo@flickr

I hear bells ringing

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, June 20, 2009


We heard the last peals of the Bells of Liberty last October, before they grinded them, burnt the pieces and just to cause us more grief were sent to a museum in Germany, they know well how much we hate Germany. “This was will be hell unless we ally” was heard “It is the only way we can survive this” said the leaders, obviously speaking from the governmental palace where there were no military surrounding their houses. This is the real hell, this is when and where the oppression while strive, and sure we will rebel, there will be hundreds… no thousands marching the streets, on a given day, holding torches and stigmas, using only pride and mini guns as their weapons, as well as a broken nation as their flag. I know this will happen, and then the cultural revolution, oh the revolution. Retired accountants which became later retired rouges to become artists, absurd amounts of youth generating culture, blasphemy and kitsch. A renewal of identity and loss of a past, a nation rebuilt in the very foundation of nothingness and passions.

I know that as a fact, we will rise. But the in-between, the wait, the staying up until late looking at the streets which once were filled with stupid kids running around with nothing but a future, and now looking at stupid kids running around with guns, nothing. And sure the international associations will be quick to impose judgment upon us “It was an unwise choice” they’ll say “You should’ve came to us” they’ll imply. They love to pretend they save the world, but they do as much to it as giving job to a whore to keep her out of the street. They screw the countries, beat them a little, pay them and then say they help the needed.

When they first invaded south Russia, we all saw it coming. It was not something the news spoke about, it was not even debated. Yet, it was something people knew, like the real reason of why France had left the European Union, or why America made alliances with Asia beyond the common affinities. The unspoken universal truths. So it didn’t come as a surprise from the government to make the choice of giving itself to the first sign of movement. In some other country, where the nationalism depends on a culture of power and dominance this would have been unacceptable, but given our ways of reason and unlimited possibilities, like everything around, it just happened.

The government say it is not a time of crisis but of union for a stronger country to survive. We all know it’s bullshit, we know it is times like this where love means fear, where good intentions are the only thing behind vengeance, where kids are no longer that and have to become incompetent adults, and adults have to become incompetent people. It is but a force that will strengthen our spirit is the only thing they say when citizens report military abuse in the capital, it is the only thing said when men in boots enter and rape their country. But it is for the greater good, or at least that’s what they also say.

[if you find any meaning in it don't hesitate on telling me about it... I just made a word list and put them together...]

by I'm the penguin

I think the keyboard just became part of my body

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, June 19, 2009


I know, I know, I'm not the right peson to bother penguins about posting schedules at the time, but... I've been a slave, a masoquist slave of my desired schedule and the commitments I get into voluntairly... yahayz!

So I'm kinda filled right now with AfterFX, which has used all, and I mean ALL of my RAM for about 12 hours now...

Today I'll have the jazz thingy, (which was nice) and tomorrow I'll be a slave (again with the time issues, lol)

So, tomorrow was a very computer-sucked day!

Sincere language

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, June 18, 2009


The last time you called someone sincere, were you aware of what you were saying? I mean, sure there are these things called dictionaries (very useful weapons) where you can look for a group of other words which attempt to englove the whole menaing into six words or less. And while many times these succeed, they don't really tell us how could we get into time and palce where we say words without knowing how they came to be. We know a sincere person is honest, with cleare intentions, a sincere love is that which is pure and without a double agenda, we know sincere is good. But where does it come from?

Well, to be honest this is not a really interesting or hard question, one could go into internet and research the definition and etimology in WordReference or Wikipedia or any of the Wods... So why is this pretty petty pitiful blogger talking about it? Well, because for many, the roots come from the words sincerus meaning clean, pure, sound and sure, this must be right all sources direct into that direction. But what is interesting about it is when that word is heard in spanish speaking places. Why? Well because it has the sound of Sincero/a (seen-seh-ro/a). Again why is this interesting? Well, because it is believed by many that the source comes from Sin-cera (without wax).

You may think this is only stupid and without any base of linguistic amusement. But it is in fact an honest mistake, for they have even made a history to back-up their inaccuracy. Back in the Classic age, when less than perfect sculpters in Greece made a mistake (the ones without talent) they put wax on it, so the mistake wouldn't show. So they covered the lies with wax. And this became widely known, so if you think about it, it has sense, given that something without wax was true, in a very obscure reference of the facts. It is even poetic in a way, giving sincere a meaning of "true art". But as the reader should know by now, this is a mistake.

And why would this have capted my attention? Well because this only happens in the spanish speaking countries. You could think that it is because of the wording they use, and that would be right. But I like to think, and would encourage the reader to do so, that it has a somewhat cultural background. You see, all the spanish speaking countries have in common, well... the spanish language; that while it has diverted a lot from the places it has been and is now very different from the mother language, it carries a mystic and musical wave around it. Latinamerica and Spain (the main spanish speaking countries) have in common the flavour of bitter and acid and that frugal atrocity that can be tender and fierce at the same time, the romance and stoicity in one single culture.

I believe it has more to do with it than any other thing. The meaning of wax-less is a much more artistic and romantic meaning than plain "pure" because it involves the existence of a mistake, a sin in comparison to what is true. The "pure" meaning is justpure beacause it says so, while the "wax-less" menaing is pure because it is compared with the false art, with the deciving. It is pure because it is the redemption of a mistake that will forever stain the art, and the artists. Which is why I don't think that spanish speakers just came to think of it because of a pronunciation mistake, but by their romantic ways

[procrastinating with culture... on daily basis]
by I'm el pingüino

Jim Denevan's

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, June 17, 2009


Brochure from Peter Hinson on Vimeo.

wow... i do that sort of things... (in my notebook)
double wow... visit! Jim Denevan's

The lost story of a bird and SHHE

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in , | Posted on Tuesday, June 16, 2009


Okay, here's the deal: I was writing a story, this one even had a plot and eveything. But...normal stories always have plot... it's not like it's a plus. Shut up, let me continue... as I was saying maybe it is that your stories are just not as good as to generally have plot, I mean REAL short stories... *sighs* Anyway, as I was saying, I had this story... but then it started to become difficult since the characters were starting to look very much real...i mean like REAL poeple, with already defined identities...>___>' well, the point is that I didn't finished it on time slob. And well, I though "Finish and post tomorrow, like you always do". But then I saw today's... yesterday's post and said "why not make some weird blog just like that?" I mean... it's not like the fans are going to send hate mail...or mail at all ... ¬_¬ anyway... the point is that I decided to make something somehwat different just to have a post done today you mean to have another day for your slappy story right? Shh.

Moving on...

I generally look at the URLs that get careless internetz to this place of daily posts and plotless blogs, and there are three main sources, which I don't plan to mention. But since there is scarcely 5 views a day, I notice the different ones. I notice them all. And on daily bases I don't get excited by any. But then today happened.

And I don't mean excited "Some journalist found us and we're going to the first page of some weird internet tabloid", i mean excited in a "OMG! lol!" sort of amusement (excitment doesn't fit). And please notice I'm not mocking anyone, but this is what I found: is meaning of a blackbird staring at you through a window

For the inexpert in decoding (@_@) URLs this is from a person who googled "What is meaning of a blackbird staring at you through a window" And maybe for you, you who are reading and don't really care about any of this, who don't find it funny, I find it hilarious.

Seriously, I mean, this person was not only glared by a black bird trough a window long enough for him/her to notice, but was captive long enough to google a meaning for it.

How often does a black bird stares at you? And what does this person think it is? Some sign to become a drunken poet and write about decay and torment?

SHHE (how we will now call him/her) is supersticious, that I know, because only a fellow supersticious person would go as far as to look in the internet for a meaning to a rather coincidential event. SHHE was trying to find a symbol where there was only a phenomenon, SHHE was trying to join the spots. And for that I congratulate SHHE, even if I don't find some believes practical, I find that the fct of searching for meaning tells a lot about a person, in this case SHHE.

[analysing people by one single internet history record... since 1999]
by I'm the penguin

MF ftw

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, June 15, 2009


Let's hear some truth....
If you use Internet Explorer < 7 I would probably hate you.
Actually, you wouldn' t be my favorite person if you use IE in general, but, oh well! tabs are tabs.
Almost anything with tabs will do, I have my personal favorite which I won't reveal (title fail) in order to mantain the neutrality I always have (! ha)

Today, (tomorrow) I realized I don't love change, I try it, and end up being at the same place I was before. At least (?) I'm a 'change tryer' (yahays) which also sucks...

So lets try a change, I'll think of something...

but it won't be firefox to chrome... (i've tried it.. didn't work) (om! i think i just lost neutrality.. again)

Serious illness

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, June 14, 2009


I have this heart that won't stop beating, and this head that won't stop thinking and this soul that won't stop aching. That's why I came.

I don't see right now how can I help you. Do you want to stop feeling?

A therapist, that's how they call you don't they


Well you cure people, can you cure me?

I would differ from your definition of therapist, I'm more of a guide than a healer

So you can't do it...

We would have to start by defining what is wrong

Everything, I can't breath, I can't have peace, and the times when I'm not dizzy are very rare

Mhm...dizziness. What else do you feel?

I feel need to breath really deep, but it burns, like I have a burden.

Need to breath...burden. Have you taken anything for this?

I tried Aspirins, they didn't work.

I see. And for how long have these symptoms been presenting themselves?

A few years if I recall well

I reckon this is a way more serioues business than I first thought. Tell me sir, have you been having emotions?

Yes, certainly. I wanted to cry, then to scream and then just to smile; all from something deep inside the skin, beyond the ribs. Incrustrated in the core, the core of something that... is not there.


Will I be okay Doctor?

...I'm afraid I have to answer no, you won't.

But... what's wrong?

I'm sorry to inform you sir, that you are alive.

...Do you mean...

Yes, I'm sorry.

by I'm the penguin

The Fields

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, June 13, 2009


We're almost out, that means we're having spare time... So, I'm planning on doing some vids, this is the official intro for now.. Tell me what you think.

[edit] wait, it posted in the future, and it got amazingly screwed up.. i'll try to fix it..
[edit two] ok, it's official, short videos do not work well on blogger or youtube, so imagine the lens actually has an animation instead of that awful jumping...
[edit three] this was the (second) making of... so, that was the way it was supposed to look... Maybe someday I'll post it the way it is supposed to be...

Los volúbles

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Friday, June 12, 2009


Que odiosa esa gente tan volúble
Ay no perdon, no quice ser grosero con ellos.
Pero es que de solo pensarlos pierdo fe en muchas cosas.
Pero pues los volubles la verdad son bien compas
con sus complicaciones y todo.

Me molestan harto los volubles esos
me fascina pensar en lo que piensan
y me parece estupido que no decidan que sentir,
todo un espectaculo de trivialidades que son no?

Alemnos los volubles sienten, que ya es algo
por más falso y superficial que crea que es
o por lo profundo que pueden llegar a ser
me parece que son como caleidoscopios,
de aquí a que lo vuelves a ver igual, mejor te consigues otro.

Pero bueno, almenos por esto estamos la gente estable,
para poner el ejemplo de constancia y parcialidad.
Podemos definir como nos sentimos y la gente puede contar con eso
por eso nosotros los estables somos más confiables

¿A poco no?

[ser cínico nunca se vio tan hipócrita...srry]
by I'm the penguin

Eye in a jar

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, June 11, 2009


Don't come here telling me how everything's supposed to be. I just want a right-now, a moment to hold you. Stop it.

Human after all

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, June 10, 2009


How I changed

It was in a day like this that i decided to take form, to become a human of flesh and bone.

It happened like things ususally do

yellow trance essense trash lie aura emotion

flying machinery stop go red     rum for will

flat beautiful bird strike pain eye bleed

air burn nose bleed heartbeat strange joyous

ambition generation hold high feel dirt

And for a moment i doubted, then I couldn't stop but to try and be something else.

And then kiss me

“I don’t know if this will work, with all your baggage, all my issues, we’re just too broken to try to fit together” she said, looking at him in desperation

“But” he sighed “I think we can do it, I just…” he said in pain, looking away

“Don’t you like me?” she asked confronting him

“I do” he said, then he opened his mouth to say nothing

“Then kiss me” she said

“I can’t…” he said “it’s this terrible migraine”

“Be man enough to say no, you don’t kiss with the head” she said, about to run away for the last time

“When I kiss you, I don’t use my lips” he said. That made her wait

“I mean, not just with the lips. I kiss you with my heart that goes off a thousand beats per second as soon as I touch you. I kiss you with my knees that shake crazy when I get near your face. I kiss you with my guts that squish and tickle just to hear your breath. And yes, I kiss you with my head when our lips meet and I go to another world, where there is nothing, not a single particle in the universe but us two.” 

That coin once belonged to the first person who ever was, he was accused of greed and punished with dead. 

by I'm the penguin


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, June 09, 2009


There's no point on saying this place has colors you've never seen. Because first, I don't believe in that, and second, I actually like the colors I've seen.
I would have to say it's a place I've seen before, in my dreams, (very Amieliesque)... It is perhaps a place where I don't exist either. Not that I'm depressed by my existance or anything, just that I've never pictured myself actually there.

What I can say is that it has an average-confortable temperature. And perhaps kinda-rainy.

I'm not trying to be poetic or deep. I don't think about that often. I think about random situations, people, places, things and sometimes feelings.

I could name some people, but I wont.
Some people you can guess... some people you would be surprised... (even if you say you wouldn't)
I get creative in my daydreaming...
Not in my writing lately, dough....

I'll try to write some of my daydreaming, but that might kill the dream.
So, summer is time to quit a lot of things.
To reconsider some others.
And to gain new dream-vices.

We're almost over, though it's the start...

Self reminder: new new time scary scarry time

My happy place

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Monday, June 08, 2009


It is a place that doesn't exist, along with a person who was never born. It is a place no one knows, no one ever sees, just him, and sometimes I. It is ancient, it was made by destiny at the beggining of times, knowing what Earth would be like. Nor human or nature's work was put into it, it was destiny knowing we would come one day, or never.

It is big and white, sometimes it is red, sometimes it is dark, and some other times, a mobile window opens to show an ever brighting Sun. And there we rest, unseen, not hidden, nor invisible, just unseen.

And the structure is not that important, but it is beautiful. Like in a dream it lacks shape, but you can always return to the same corner. Sometimes it is made of stone, others of ebory, others it is just made of ideas. But something is constant about this place... actually two things. The pond in the middle, which sometimes is like a very old public shower, sometimes it is an ordinary giant bathtub, and some others it is the skrinked oceans. And the other constant thing about this place... is him.

We stand, looking at a mirror wall, not looking the bodies, or poses, or flesh or bone. He's not looking at me, and I'm not looking at him. We just stare at them, we stare at us as in a whole. Singular plurals. And after being one in the reflection, he turns his head, out and inside the mirror; and so do I. We share dense gazes, and it is then that I become his puppet, my every string is in his hands, and in return I get his. He becomes mine. 

And I don't need to speak, he knows it all. He doesn't need to speak, I know it too.

Then he waits until we are both thinking the same, and then we walk to the pond. Once there I turn myself the other way, and so does he. Then he grabs me, not in a hug sort of way, or by the arms. He grabs the whole me, or sometimes just my soul, when I'm too tired. And I grab him back, and for a second it is sad, then it is tranquil, then it is nothing. 

And for the final act, at the same time, we both let go of the ground and give ourselves to the water. We fall in our backs, while I hold him, and he holds me; but it doesn't matter how hard we ever do it, we end up falling, together. Then we drown, and hit bottom... together. And it is then when it becomes the safest place in the universe. I no longer hold a life, there is no dead, there is just me, and him, which is the same at that moment. It is that moment that all the noise becomes silence, all the wrongs are righted and the void is filled. It is then that I find the meaning.

Then we must emerge, come back one more time, not knowing if we the next time we will.

[What is your happy place?]
by I'm the penguin

Look down

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, June 07, 2009


Our finest

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, June 06, 2009


Good taste just never wears out.

[Kitsch has very thin boundaries. I didn't noticed them.]
by I'm the penguin


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, June 05, 2009


No one I think is in my tree..
Some posts are just meant to be actual blogs.
So, a blogging kite would tell you about its flight. A very intresting flight these past weeks. Lot of pictures, los of memories...
Accounting that time goes by, it is fast, unexpected and scary.
Good thing: I'll be able to read something I wanted to read for a long time, I'll find some time to write what I wanted to write.
Some other things I wanted to do are now concluded, or in stand-by, but as the past new year's resolution check list indicated,.. I'm doing fine.

So, meanwhile, and as the body regains its strength, watch this:


How does this solution crystalize?

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, June 04, 2009


H: In your experience of the chemistry lab. How does this solution cristalize?

M M: Well it has something to do with acids and bases so it's not very nice.

The chemist splits the sodium hydroxide with a jagged spatula from throat to belly and then plunges a huge filthy clamp in, he grabs hold of the hydroxide pearls tubes and they slip to evade his grasp but he squeezes hard, he insists, he pulls and pulls till all the base is yanked out and the basisity! We can't even talk about that. And then he stuffs it in the solution, dirty, tangled and torn. It's up to you to do the stirring.

H: And then  you get the acetate. And mix around?

MMr: Just mangled particles pretending.

H: That's how solutions crystalize.

[becoming the creative half of the quoting exercise]
By I'm the penguin

Circus mind that's running round

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, June 03, 2009


Well shes walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When Im sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
Its alright she says its alright
Take anything you want from me, anything

Fly on little wing,
Yeah yeah, yeah, little wing

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

Dejate ir

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, June 02, 2009


Dejate caer, terminalo, cortalo, depsdazalo.
Dejalo ir y cae ya, todos lo podemos ver,
No hay más en ti para sostenerlo,
no hay más de ti en todo el mundo para ese deber.

Tirate al lodo con la mugre y las sanguijuelas,
ensucia tu blanca tez con amargas bocanadas de aire,
viola ese sagrado derecho a llamarte pura,
y mezclate con nuestra sangre dura. Cortate las alas.

Abandona la idea de grandeza y por un momento,
por uno solo, pertenece a los perros sarnosos.
Que note preocupe el viaje, nosotros te tomaremos,
te saquearemos y te llevaremos a rastras hasta ese lugar,
aún si es por tu voluntad.

Te notas cansada e insatisfecha, llenate de nuestros fracasos,
aprende con nuestros males, curate en nuestras enfermedades.

Dejate ir en la corriente de inmundicia que somos,
dejate ir y rompe con lo que conoces y desconoceras.
Rasga las vestiduras blancas y encuentrate con esto.

Y luego vuelve, al pedestal que te hicimos. Vuelve a ser pura.

by (I would like to know..., sincerely,) I'm the penguin

These days

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Monday, June 01, 2009


I'm missing an ear, literally...
Not in the way that creeps you out, but in such way that when I look to the wall something's missing.

So after a day of painting, sleeping some miutes (and non sleeping nights), and reading a lot about bases, and genomes and how we're all 99.99% the same, but they can clearly tell us apart by the same principles. I wonder.

talk about codes...
[From xkcd]

[Mrs. K i t e]