Almost 50

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, September 30, 2009


She was ready, 'very ready' she would say. She had planned it for three whole weeks. A carefully repeared sleeping bag that had had its zipper jammed years ago, two lanterns, a large backpack, three pair of socks, and tuna cans to survive at least a week. At first, she thought on taking bottled water, but being realistic, she knew she would have to (sooner or later) drink from a lake or something, so she just took one to refill.
She was going to miss the internet a lot. She had said her farewells to the community, and specially to ramboactionfigure22 and sweet314159 with whom she had had a community channel that had reached 52 subscribers (actually 49, but they were subscribed themselves, so...) 'Shame we never got to be famous' she said to herself before deactivating the account. 'Maybe I'll start another some other day, I promised myself I could be more interesting than a dancer, a lame singer or a kid bitting his brother.' [but we all knew she couldn't]

I haz the flu

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, September 29, 2009


Don't do Redbull, or cocaine, pills or any of those overpriced upgrades of coca-c01a.

Instead, just listen

Because this is the good stuff, the one that moves armies, raises multitudes and lets you check over 50 assignments in less than an hour. Pure music-o-ine

The Shining

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, September 28, 2009


Half of the songs (which I must say are able to provide an important part of the daily thoughts) say it's bad to want it all, the other half say it's good...
This says neither...
I think...

Suffocating silence

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, September 27, 2009


He walks to his house, find the keys in his pocket and unlocks the door. He proceeds to go directly to his room and closes the entrance. He then stands next to the wall waiting for the silence to be broken, then like a saw cutting through silk his mother's voice is listened "Are you home?!" echoing in the almost empty house. "Yes" he answers silently, then hopes he doesn't have to repeat it. Because all his stuff is there, his mother and father live in that house, he sleeps and eats with them, yet under no circumstance would he call it "home".

He sits down and takes a deep breath, like he has seen people doing to blow off steam of the day, yet it doesn't do half as good for him as it does to people on TV. His problem is not what happened in the day, but what he knows was going to unavoidably happen later. So he silently waits sitting by his desk, being able to listen to the tick-tacks coming from the wall clock at his left. He then contemplates the room, but doesn't notice the carpet, or the National Geographic dinosaur posters, or even the window with sight to the park, he is admiring the silence, the beauty at which it just is, while it lasts.

Because he knows that fifteen minutes later, when he hears the entrance door slam, and his mother coming out of her room, he knows it won't even take them five minutes for it to start. For his dad's voice to yell the same slashing and tired words, for his mother to throw all her dead and swollen desires in his face to create some sort of guilt. He learnt the lines a while ago now, they don't say anything different, they haven't been any different in a while.

Yet he listens, even when it hurts, even when he knows he isn't going to find anything new in their fighting, he forces himself to listen the whole thing. Maybe it's his way of making sure they don't kill each other, maybe it's just better to be hurt but to know what's happening. Whatever the reason is, he sometimes tries hard not to care, it never works.

So this time the screaming figures take their positions on time, each contender takes its rightful corner and the match starts. Back in his room he paralyzes, because right there it is no longer mom and dad, it's some man named Dylan complaining about working overtime, and a woman named Linda who got pregnant before she could travel the world, or any other she mentions young people do. They are not his parents because if they were it would be too much, they would be making him terrible damage, but since they are just Dylan and Linda, what harm does it do?

He is frozen at the sound of all, and even when it has never worked before he tires, to avoid being the spectator in the ring. He tries hard to think of the dinosaurs, it doesn't work, he only thinks of female T-rex complaining to male T-rex about how she never accomplished anything. He tries to doodle in his notebook, but it only resembles the sometimes broken glasses on the floor after Dylan throws stuff around.

Then he has nothing left but his school bag, homework won't do, he knows that. But then finds the book he is supposed to be reading since summer now, he hasn't opened it yet. He sees it, in the cover there is this big bird that has no feathers, or is drawn by any lines. This bird is only shaped colors, no limits, no shades. And for a second he can almost see it moving, like the fact of it having no limits could make it come out of the book at any second.

He focuses on the big bird and the pretty colors. Because it is not only about it being almost alive, it's lack of texture and shade is like it has no dimension at all. As is it was only colors, and sound, sound too. He could now listen it, the swirling wind whistling in his ears. Yes! the vibrant wind running rapidly and moving everything around, he hears the swoosh's and the swish's. The only thing he can listen is the wind, and feel it. He now also feels it in his cheeks and face, it feels like a cool breeze when he inhales, the can touch it running between his fingers making them move slightly. He is being lifted and carried by this wind and this bird.

He can now only see the colors, the intense reds and blues, and greens and oranges. The only thing in his mind is the sound of the roaring gale and how it carries him along with the bird and they fly. And there's nothing else there, just the wind and the bird, and him. He flies and grasps the notion that his body is weightless, that he and the colors are the same. He si flying everywhere and nowhere. He is home, finally.

Then he is able to listen something else from the distance, it's calling him. He doesn't want to, but he has to land, the new sound approaches and disturbs the colors. He can't palpate what in this place would be, until the source of the noise find a face:him. "Geooorge!" he doesn't want to go "George come here right now!" he refuses to leave "George, don't listen to your mother, stay in your room" it is too late, the colors are gone.

At his arrival, the contenders are still in combat, they are now including him, like when things get ugly. That was why he oughted to stay, in case they needed him, in case he could stop it. But he knew too that nothing he could do would call it even, so he just listened the rest of it, like always, without a choice but to wait for them to rest and begin another day.

[there is never an excuse when you need one not to feel guilty]

Soap is back

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, September 26, 2009


Oh they are so back.
As in so friggin back.
As in sleeping until 1am to see them come back.
I was in denial then isolation
Then I felf a little angry
And I started the bargaining.
About the middle I was in depression.
Now, let's just accept it.

The thing about the super soaps... it's that they're super slippery...


Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, September 25, 2009


There are days in which you want to be alone, others you simply want a one way ticket to the nothingness and disappear, and some others you just don't want to come home after so many hours in the hospital to make a post.

But that's the thing, even if it's days later we CAN'T just not make them, we can't say "well that one day will have to be a non-post day." Because ours is not a regular project, normal blogs have weekly (at most recurrent) posts about their lives or interesting things they found, or their opinion, they have readers and they don't have death lines.

This project is so very different, because unlike artists we can't just wait until inspiration shocks us to produce great magnificence, it is the little things we do with great care and consideration that make it work. Maybe the things artists do are art because of the time, premeditation and inspiration, but this, this is a lifestyle.

Protect me from what I want.

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, September 24, 2009


Protect me from what I want.
For distant viewing, it said,
wish I had read it again, and again, and again
good advice
if only if only

everything's alright..

So, this guy keeps amazing me... this is what I believe his new blog,
great creative posts, with images, videos, etc...
Una llama en medio del camino... a Jr.canest blog.
highly recomended

Every day

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, September 23, 2009


As the horizon announced the arrival of a new day they prepared for the tortuous and never ending labor of trying to approach each other, every single atom in their composition desiring nothing else but to figure out the other and then be there. The labor of against all odds, seek the one moment they would join and be lonely nevermore, all without getting any closer, ever.

[lack of charisma can be fatal]

Playlists that happen

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, September 22, 2009


After a while you erase the love-songs playlist. Then, as you pressed on shuffle, some of these songs appear, most of the times you ignore them and click for the next song, somehow hoping the next one belongs to a much more desearved punk-rock song. But one in a while (this things don't 'just happen', rings any bells?) you get a song that mysteriously belonged to that playlist, and you try to ignore the relationship to the tv show you've just seen... and you see some pictures that a couple months ago would've been nice, but now your just like 'ugh..' but as you lisen to that song you know something's missing.
You can't miss is, but something's missing somewhere...
This please cannot be it....

Alternative versions

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Monday, September 21, 2009


Today I present a new concept: a remake

Happily never after

After he got her the crystal shoe back on her foot, and married her, having the happiest day of them all, she moved into the castle. But as it is it turned out that she hadn't been the only chosen one, in fact she learned that while in Arabia, Prince Charming had taken up some traditions, one being the Harems.

So as it happens, after all her suffering with her step family, she was now just part of a group of other twelve ladies who had thought as well that was their happily ever after. They had all been infatuated, they had all pledged eternal vows of pure and eternal love, so to get their happy ending. They weren't.

But growing up in poverty, surrounded by crazy ass singing animals and bitchy sisters, Cinderella knew her kicks around that sort of game. So it didn't took long for things to heat up, which tends to happen when twelve deceived and angered girls fight to be the special one. And so Cinderella had to do what she had to do to be the only one, to be special; but the thing was that, the prince didn't took it that way. He saw murder in her deep intentions of showing her true love. The whole army of Princecharmingland was now after her.

Cinderella had now lost everything, her life as a servant looked alright from there. But she wasn't the kind of girl who was going to wait for a failed happy ending twice.So she became a refugee, hiding, perfecting her killing skills. For a while she remained lost, wandering the most underground places of Europe, feared by the king of bandits and tabooed from all courts, she had no past, though of no future and most dangerously: she was as a woman seeking revenge.

But her hiding couldn't last for long. Now, Cinderella was heading Princecharmingland in a cold night of spring, more specifically she was going to the official ball to get the prince a (new) bride. She was ready, but this time she needed no help from the little animals of the forest and would not leave behind one single glass shoe.

[way better, hope this time it is enjoyable]

It came in today:

Hope & Freedom

No, I'm not being annoyingly philosophical again, it was year one when we said we would do it. Well, I won't rest until we do it this time, because it is the last time. And you and I both know the stakes are higher this time, we owe ourselves the obligation of making a work of great magnificence, to beat any regrettable two-stepping work.

Hope and freedom is the theme, and I already have a few ideas, given that these are two of my most enjoyed topics while discussing philosophy, (okay, maybe i'm being a bit annoyingly philosophical). It comes as photos, videos or animation.

Listen, not!

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, September 20, 2009


At the time I thought I it was early. 'How can you explain someone you enjoy that type of music' I read once in a blog. I thought about it, the lyrics meant something, something besides the obvious, something I had longed for, and now, it was there, in the air, trough a crying guitar and a harsh voice. The first time I had listened to that I had judged it wrong, some boring music, I recall thinking, but then, it came back to me, during a bohemian stage I was on. Then, I don't know when or why I remember listening to these songs, while I was in the balcony and the iPod was playing.

There's a huge disadvantage of downloading the most popular songs of a certain artist. It is not my intention to feel very, 'oh-I-don't-like-the-common-first-pick' but it is true. As snob as that may sound... I can just add that from's top ten, I don't really like (not the same than dislike though.. [thanks for that obsession penguin]) at least four of them, which is oh yes! 40%...

Tan joven y tan viejo... like a rolling stone...

How the first one happened

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, September 19, 2009


So, it started with this like conflict between every country , they had this empires, which were like sweatshops, but instead of just working minorities like Chinese people, they were entire countries. And it was sort of okay for a while, but you know they were having administrative changes and people were gathering and separating, countries were being formed and stuff, the British had a queen, the French didn't, the Germans were kinda the alpha bitch.

They were really cunning, like in those shows of mean teens where they say one thing to their faces and then they talk shit about each other. And it was like that, until Serbia, who wanted to gather up with all its hommies was like "Oh no you didn't bitch" when Austria took Bosnia. And so then Serbia called Russia, who was like much more popular and richer, and Russia was pissed because he had made pinky promise to help all those new born countries like Bosnia, and Austria was being a jerk.

So Russia was like "Hey man, what's up!" and Austria was like "Yea you know, Idc" and was a total bitch because she was bffs with Germany who came right away and was like "If you know what's good for you, you'll mind your own business bitch" and so Russia was really pissed, but since he had had a big fight with Japan, he was in no conditions to start a cat fight, so he just took off.

But like it happens with this things, Russia swore revenge, and you know you don't want some cold ass bunkers neglecting you your Absolute. Aha. Well after this Germany was feeling the shit, and had this guy Otto as a PR (public relations... no pun intended) who was like really good at making people believe they were best pals, and he made bffs bracelets with Austria-Hungary and with Italy, and they called themselves the Triple Alliance, I know, it is so not classy but whatever. At the same time Otto knew France was like really popular too, so he kept a casual friendship with them, while trying to be nice with Russia.

This Otto guy was okay, until William II took over and was like "We don't need no friendship with those bitches, we're just fine the three of us" so he totally busted the relationship with Russia and France. I mean Germany was the queen, but after this France and Russia were like "You hate that goatfucker sunuvabitch, i hate him too, let's hang out" And so Russia and France became buddies, and Great Britain has always been best Frienemies with France, so the three of them got together , they called themselves the triple entente. If you ask me these people needed some creativity, but whatever.

So the bands were made and you know there's tension when the alpha bitches start teasing the others, who were too pretty damn right popular themselves. But it was at Bosnia's party when it all went wrong, this prep jock from Austria's squad, Franz Something was just chilling when all of the sudden a text was sent to everyone with a video of him last Christmas. I don't want to go into details about what was in that anonymous text, but it killed him, socially speaking. He was never seen in any self-respecting party ever since.

And you know Austria wouldn't have give a damn about that any other day of the week, but she knew she could blame it on Serbia, after the whole "I take your friend and diss Russia" thing. It was later known that it was Bosnia herself who sent that text, but Austria wouldn't care. And that bitch wasn't stupid, it was until rich-kid-Germany gave her permission that Austria went all commando on Serbia. Even if they knew big brother Russia would take some action.

Germany warned Russia but this time Russia was like "You can shove your goddam warning up your beer spitting ass" and you know how this is, one bitch messes with one of the gang, and it gets the whole effing gang. So for some stupid excuse Germany declared war on France, and then GB threw a margarita to Germany's new Hugo Boss. It all went messy with this guys.

Germany stole from France, Austria posted some gossip about Serbia and pals, Russia was all "am a kill you now bitch", and it was all bloody murder. Then Italy was backstabbing, making alliances with France, she ditched Austria and Germany, who were all "you two timing slut!" but she didn't care, she fought those two bitches.

I don't really think we have to get into details about everything that happened, but you must know it got ugly, and that Germany was pretty much kicking ass. But then the new girl in town showed up in her red, blue and white Marc Jacobs with a puff up blond hair and some out of season boots, America, noveau riche. She had the big guns, the big words and the big bucks. It was not clear who to pair with, since nobody could know the outcome, but GB and her came since way back, so she just made some lame ass excuse that Germany had done her wrong. So she joined forces with the Ententes.

After all the cat fighting and flaming, and bitching they were tired, but America, well she had just put on her dance shoes, and was planning to party until dawn. Even if Germany had been the queen and all, the whole Double Alliance didn't last for too long, they were completely destroyed, not to show their faces ever again in that part of the continent.

So after making the official dethroning and public humilliation of Germany and Austria, Entente took over. They even made this gathering where they forced Germany to take all the blame and repay for all of her mischief. After they were done with her, she was not even recognizable in the streets, which was kind of sad, but that bitch had it coming. She was forbidden to ever talk to Austria, diminished to one text a day, and crippled to not buying any high couture ever again.

But even if she was only shreds of what she used to be, Germany swore she would raise again, and we all know what happened after that, with all the racists and the fascists. But that's sort of another story, and I would not like to be such a gossip.

[so out of line, so out of line...]

A Coin

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, September 18, 2009


'Money, where it's supposed to be, what it's supposed to be.'
It is a necklace, a very beautiful one actually.
Money, just as a decoration, as an item.
I've been thinking about it all week, as I try to forget about certain expectations which have been bugging me for a while now.
The thing about this necklace is, its message is not only very true and inspiring, it is also very valuable in a sentimental way, and in my way of seeing it, it also looks like a nobel prize medal.
So, this necklace, has been very helpful this week, I've though about lots of things, because as I said some days ago... I only wanted to be three things: scientist, film-maker or rockstar...

This too shall pass

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in , | Posted on Thursday, September 17, 2009


Dear stranger from across the street: If you ever attempt to make your life simpler by making several gmail accounts so that the access to certain blog is easier and you can sign with your own name, then I warn you: you will end up loosing access to it. (only if you're as incompetent as the author)

That being said I would like to share something:

It is a piece of José Carlos Martinat's exposition. The collection is about the concept of liberty and the system managing it, and about people going to jail for reasons they should, at least that's what I got from the whole thing.

But what I liked the most about the exposition was this particular sign, because as it may only appear to be some cryptic road-dinner advertise, it is actually a very powerful message.

It comes from a tale of king Salomon. It is said he was such a wise man that when he was having a rough time he would remember better times and knew that it would pass, but it was only fair that when he was having a good time, he also considered that it was meant to pass too. So he had made a ring that read "This too shall pass" (in his language of course).

Thereby turning all his joys in pains, and all the pains in joys.



Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, September 16, 2009


This IS a MUST see!

Typophile Film Festival 5 Opening Titles from Brent Barson on Vimeo.

Tus sueños

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Y fue entonces cuando la vio, como si toda la luz de la habitación se hubiera concentrado allí y solo allí. De pronto todas las otras polvorientas cajas no eran más que cachibaches, chucherías y otras cosas que no eran precisamente sus sueños.

Y como Pandora, se dirigió hacia el contenedor con la inscripción clara "Tus sueños se encuentran dentro" y claro que no esperaba que al abrirlo una dimensión paralela se abriría rebelando un lugar feliz, ya no era una niña, pero el simple hecho que apareciera frente a ella era como una señal.

Se arrodillo en la rugosa alfombra para tomar la caja, y recordó como en las películas siempre el protagonista se tomaba su tiempo para hacer este tipo de cosas, y entonces meditó por cuanto debería esperar. Concluyó en hacerlo lo más pronto posible, no se podía tratar de algo tan grandioso de estar en ese almacén. Entonces tomó las tapas, de un movimiento las abrió de par en par, y no pudo más que gritar horrorizada al darse cuenta que dentro de la caja no había nada más que


[protect me from what I want]
by I'm the penguin

Stay calm and remember

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, September 14, 2009


I think, either something very good is happening, or something very bad.
It was one of those days when I have to consider life changing issues, but then, I forget about them, either because I did actually forget, or because at some point (i never know that point) I didn't want to remember.

I'm flipping coins tomorrow, about something I don't know today.

The actual result (i'm joking about the coin) is somehow predictable,
(I hope I can read this in a couple mothns/years to find out.)
But what's scary, is that despite that predictable outcome, the event is important, is life chainging, and I have no idea if I'm going to like it after all.

So, for now, I'll remember some wise's men advices, which were really useful, (specially for THIS)
And try to remain calm,

au revoir last 4 years!

Time and things

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, September 13, 2009


It's this time thing, it keeps messing with me.

You always have it, like now, you have it in your hands you can do whatever you want with it. You already know it is a man made parameter to measure things, but you know it is there, you just spent some of it reading this.

And my problem with time is that you always have it, yet it always goes away. You will never get that past second, and for all intends and purposes, the last minutes is just a burried as the last sixty million years: you won't get it back. And while this realization is made by the young age of -whatever age you discovered it could not always be your birthday or christmas- it does not cease to amaze me how much the time just goes away. You can't stop it, you can't make it slower, you can't make it go faster. Time just keeps running. And sometimes you just have to catch up with it.

Because if had it our way, time would simply not just run and run without direction or resolution. If only it could be bent what wouldn't we do with it? I know for a fact I would stop it, just stop it and watch the rain drops frozen in the sky, touch them, throw them, play with the floating waters. I would see world, at last at peace even just for a second, and would hear the silence and the echoes of yesterday's dreams and tomorrow's hopes, I would navigate in the motionless ocean of people a big city would be. And then I would just stop, and be one with the frozen universe, take a deep breath and enjoy the quiet. Then of course I would have to bring back time and go on with our normal running lives.

But what would you do? Would you shoot everything in slow motion and watch the humming bird flapp its wings, so then you could beat the Megalev in a speed contest? Or would you just make it faster and see a flower be born and then loose its petals, or stand in the middle of a praire watching the coulds fly around the world like cotton planes? Or would you simply make everything just go one single second into the future, so no one else but you knew that since that moment on nothing would ever be the same?

What would you do if time was bendable? If it was no longer the reason you're late or traison of all men?

by I'm the penguin

Stop looking at the screen

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, September 12, 2009


Stop looking at the screen and find something better to do...
Like, I don't know...
or those other physiological important things parents talk about... like sleep..

The thing is, sometimes I really don't have enough time for those phisiological things, I wish I had,
I will this week, I hope..
But for now, I'm just turning off the computer..

Pretteh colors

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Friday, September 11, 2009


Yes... I am completely aware

Yes, yes I know

It happens when two failed projects merge

They create...

The finest art...

by I'm the penguin

Borrow a Brain

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, September 10, 2009


Problem with that affair of yours

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, September 09, 2009


When you reach the point where you see yourslef looking at the horizon and saying that your happiness depends on him/her, and that you could not see your life without him/her, is when you know you have a problem.

Now, this problem is even bigger if said he/she is not even your partner, but rather a platonic crush of yours who doesn't know your name; then you have a real problem. Becuase you and I both know you have imagined it, the moment you meet, how you casually introduce your coolest self, and how she/he is charming. I also know you have planned how you would have a casual romantic approach and it would be all a Hollywood movie ending from then on. Of course, if you are rather dramatic you will include a few fights caused because of your (already planned) differences.

And I know you have also though about the first time, and by this I mean the first time you kiss, the first time you stay up late on the phone, the first time he/she opens up emotionally to you in a level he/she has never done with anyone else, the first fight, the first make up, and of course, the first time in bed. And you may picture them as cute and romantic, or as a realistic awkward and weird moment were both of you are confused.

I know you have thought about this, once or twice, or every second of the day. It is your own personal imaginary affair.

But the problem is that you might actually get to know this person some day. And yes, that is the big problem.

Because first of all, you have already idealized him/her, and to be honest to yourself, you know she/he will never live to your expectations. And if you are able to see past this, if you are that much into reality, and into the person for who she/he really is, then you face a second problem, you destroy the fantasy you created, and with that the character you imaginarily fell in love with.

Assuming of course you care about the destruction of all you expectations and day dreaming.

If not, then you may proceed, under your own risk

[maybe that's the whole issue with 9-9-09 @__@]
by I'm the penguin

one day before 999

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, September 08, 2009


Sabor a envoltura

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Monday, September 07, 2009


Cuando se es una envoltura se sabe desde un principio que esos pequeños ojitos con pericia y hambre, no lo ven a uno con el fin de comerlo, ni mucho menos con la intención de conservarlo. Cuando se es una envoltura, uno sabe que vale lo mismo que una tapa de pepino, lo que importa es que te quiten de en medio. Y una vez asumida esta verdad, la vida tiende a ya no deprimir tanto.

Pero con ella fue distinto, sin duda se trató de un regalo a ella de algún abuelo, unos cuantos crujidos y por mera obra de suerte acabé rota en su bolsillo. Y como a veces pasa, fui olvidada, pero siempre a la expectativa de una mano fregosa que gritara a la distancia algo como -¡Un día de estos van a salir ratas de tus pantalones!- Pero nunca llegó, de hecho, cuando por fin me encontraron fui analizada de cerca, meticulosamente viendo los pliegues y dobladillos acumulados por el reposo. Y después del análisis me lamió, pasó su calida lengua por todas las ranuras, como si fuera hace segundos que me separé del dulce, pero no era así. Más tarde acabé en una caja.

Conozco los botes de basura, y se que aunque sea por poco, esta caja no lo era. Otros triques y chucherías olvidadas, envueltas con un olor penetrante a añejo y conservadas en lo que luego aprendería que eran litros de nostalgia. Estaba obscuro y silencioso casi todo el tiempo, había figuritas de colores fosforescentes, notitas con tinta opaca, y uno que otro recorte, pero lo más impresionante era el cementerio de otras envolturas ahí, todas similares, bien pudiendo ser mis abuelas o primas políticas.

Y pasaba el tiempo, y se llenaba la caja, ya no era sorpresa ver como introducía envolturas nuevas, o triques de plástico barato, o chacharas de metal. La parte inesperada era cuando ella volvía y abría la caja, olía el contenido y nos sacaba una por una, y justo como la primera vez, pasaba su mirada escrutadora por toda mi superficie, estudiaba cada ranura hasta que volvía a aproximar sus papilas gustativas. No se dejaba de sentir extraño que lo hiciera, pero ya era una sensación familiar, lo que yo no concebía en un principio era que después de tanto tiempo que el sabor ya no estaba impregnado, ella siguiera probándolo. Pero con cada vez que esto se repetía, que ella volviera a probar una y otra vez el plástico desabrido, más entendía que lo que ella saboreaba no era el sabor a dulce, que hace ya muchos años ella no saboreaba el dulce.

[yes, I'm shameless just like that]
by I'm the penguin

I would go to space

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, September 06, 2009


I was not joking about the space songs...
Ignore the video if you want, it's the song I'm talking about,

Living in secret

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, September 05, 2009


They are some sort of... secret society

They have lived among us since the begging of history, but for all intends and purposes they have remained ignored for some time now.

They look just like us, like you and I. They have have flesh and bones, and pains and joys. Some might even acknowledge them the title of humans. And at the gaze of one, there could be no physical evidence to prove they are any different from us, but we sometimes know they are different, even if they always know they are different.

They have been minggled in history, and society, and economy, and any other mankind invention of cultural character. They interact as infiltrators, making themselves look like us and spread around the globe. And they should get some credit for that, to mimetize, because it takes some skill for an entire secret society to hide from the rest of the world.

You might wonder now, what makes them so special. Why do they have to live in secret if they are so simmilar to us? Well, sometimes they wonder the same... Because despite of the ignorant propaganda spread from ages, they can do everything we can. They wash dishes, they rise nations, they paint timeless art, they go to the restroom, they believe in God. Their biology is no different either, because according to some theories, they are still the same species as us (homo sapiens sapiens that is if you can read this...).

The only difference I would say, lies on our perception of them, because while we never see them, as individuals in a group, we tend to generalize and spread messages of persecution; even if we have never met one of them. And a lot of people get justifications of all kinds to do this, base their aggressive behaviour in falacies dressed as morality.

And that is the cause of their anonimity, the fact that they are persecuted for crimes they have yet not commited. Just imagine if God did that... In what kind of world does a secret society with members so important to human history have to hide and remain silent for the most part? Does it not sound stupid?

Perhaps you may think this is overreacting, that some people have had it worse, like the handicapped who have to deal with mockery and social tensions every day, or like African minorities in America without rights, or the genocide of jews by a rascist ideology . But please, do not ever forget that this secret society suffers too daily of social pressure and mockery, that they have fought too for equlity of rights, suffered too in a nazi holocaust, or do you though it was only jews and gypsys?

They have suffered just like any others, if not more.

So why are they the ones who still have to hide? Why is this secret society not seen as equals?

Well, I guess they will get tired of it

And then it will only be a matter of time that approving them is no longer our choice.

[and that time arrived a while ago]
by I'm the penguin

What's next?

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, September 04, 2009


"Nunca le hago asco a la última copa y al próximo bar."

That's the main idea, only, I guess I would have to change some words...
In the procrastination list in our bright bright books, I apply to at least 50% of the descriptions. "Commiting to do many things being the first one." and add that to the 99% match with the ADD test... yay..

Let's just use the dice of mood, and lets have no weekends, there's only a year left.
The night is long,.. and the coffee is cheap!

What has happened to us?

Equilibrio dinámico

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, September 03, 2009


Parte de ser un filosofo cientifico-mistico-espiritista doble cara que cree en pingüinos voladores es tratar de conectar el mundo de la forma en como se le ve. Amarrar los pequeños hilitos y hebras sueltas y hacer una gran bufanda (o pashmina, como se guste). Y si, podría decirse que es incorrecto, y poco objetivo, pero es parte del trabajo.

Así que cuando uno escucha salir de la boca de un maestro de bioquimica las palabras:

"El equilibrio es un proceso DINÁMICO
ojo... NUNCA es estático...
si, en teoría es infinito"

no puedes más que asumir que el maestro te esta hablando, que por un momento dejo atras las velocidades de reaccion y a Arrhenius y te dio una pista de los engranes del universo. No puedes mas que suponer que por un segundo, él fue el gran complice de todo, que todo se detuvo y el te voltea a ver y fictiamente te guiña el ojo.

Todo tiene sentido

lo sabes

bueno Mr Penguin, puedes pasar a hacer esta reacción?"



lo sabes...

[hi accidental stranger/stalker]
by I'm the penguin

Sleeping is for losers...

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, September 02, 2009


Somehow in that title, I'd rather be a loser.
I was just joking, trying to make me feel a little better about being awake, life-less and weekend-less at the moment, but it didn't.. It just made me thing that if that's the case, I'd rather be a loser.
Because lets face it, sleeping is NEVER overated... If you have narcolepsy or similar, excuse me.. But if you don't, oh my.. I really hope you are getting some... sleep, I mean.

I remembered a video I posted a while ago.. oh, please I want that morning elegance. I want a sunny morning, fresh morning just in my PJ...

Soon, please, soon...

TSOTPPOVAU according to a local unauthorized philosopher (part IV)

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, September 01, 2009


Now that we've went trought the whole equilibria theory and how the universe work we must understand something as important: People have different opinions.

Sure, this is obvious isn't it?

And I'm certain that if you are able to keep up with this attempt of guide, you are the type of person who agrees to disagree. But talking with people around the world doesn not require just that, if you want to take a philosophical approach that is. Just listening won't do in this type of excersise, what you need is to understand and analyze where that disagreement is coming from.

Let's think about a discussion you are having with Mr.X, he says that male and female have antural differences, and those include the gender role submissive-dominant that appear around the world. He objects that it happens in nature, it happens in every culture and so it must be natural, and that ergo there is very little to discuss about that.

As the cultured person you are, you know that there is more to see than just a study of gorilas and the general cultures of the world. You are informed that there are tribes in New Guinea, who are away from the influence of all the others, who exhibit a clear rupture to this "law", showing that the gender roles have biological bases, yet are forged and raised in culture. So you know he's not only falacious but also misinformed.

After an adult conversation you reach to a point where you both agree to disagree. Is that right? It might be for him, but you are not quiet there yet. You have to think, and to go trough his arguments to notice if there is a personal reason to take that stand or is it just the environment that made him have such a belief. Why? Because your job as an unauthorized philosopher does not end at understanding nature and mechanics of the world in an objective point of view, but also to see what others believe and why is that so, so to understand where is the common knowledge comming from.

And it is not only to understand the roots of the information or opinion, it is also to follow the train of thought to figure out how people think the way they do in order to enrich your trains of thought and wisdom. Because you have to remember, there is truth, which is what can be extracted by empirical evidence along with reasonable arguments. And then there is truth, which is what the majority thinks. And you should know by now that the proportion to the existent truths and truths are simply not fair for the wise. Adapt

by I'm the penguin