When do you know a yes means yes, a no a no, a yes a no, or a no a yes?
When is the sigh predicted by the precedent sight?
What happens if all you can do is find a no?
This may seem senseless, but the thing is no’s are way more common than yeses, but yeses are way more common when you’re saying no’s.
So do it. And in the end a no might be a yes, and if the no is a no, there are no surprises.

Sometimes I get high, spin around a thousand times
Sometimes I lock myself behind open doors
Sometimes I tell you why all the silence
It’s just that sometimes I’m yours and at others I belong to the wind

When no one sees me
I can be or not be when no one’s see me
I put the world upside down
When no one sees me my skin knows no limits
When no one sees me
I can be or not be

I write to you from the dephts of my existence
From where the anxieties and the infinite essence arise
There are things so particularly yours that i don’t understand
And there are things so particular to me, but i don’t see them
I suppose i think i don’t have them
I don’t understand, the verses light up
In the darkness I can have you
I feel I don’t get it right
Don’t turn on the lights cause i’m baring
My soul and my body

A.Sanz

[Mrs. K i t e ]

You think he's fine, he looks fine. He's been weird the last week, but you know that just like a lady, every new moon or so, he's not so much himself. And he looks like he's fine, with all his ups and downs, and you look at him and overall you think he's glad. He has a good life, with great friends and people as yourself. You rely on him, and you think, at least consider he relies on you. But he doesn't

And even if he seems complete underneath that crazy man suit, it's because that's not the core. You think he's fine because he makes you think so, you think he's fine because he tells you so. And to be honest, there's no way you could know, it's not something you're supposed to know, it's not something he expects you to know. So it's not your fault, yet he's lonely, and empty, and shattered. You can't help him because he's hiding, you can't reach him because he's away. He appears to be here, with all his ups and downs. But he's far away, sunk in the downs.

He is lonely and desperate for someone to be there, in that island of cold desperation, yet is not your fault, because you don't know, you have no way of knowing. And while this happens he knows he can come to you, he knows his loneliness could end, but he prefers to stay alone. Away, from you and all the others, away from himself, but it's not your fault, you had no way of knowing it.


[are we now into the minimalist posting? perhaps...]
By I'm the penguin

It started as it always does. The sleepy morning came ahead with the 12 numbers stuck in the head as the little two sticks kept running, and we wished they ran faster.
Some hellos some welcome-backs some old friends, some old strangers, the same old thing which you expect gracefully until you listen the custom ringtone at 6 o’clock.
But then, this isn’t the same as the other time, or the other time. Maybe it is only different because it has happened before, and before. Or maybe it is different because you already have things to plan, to worry about, to regret and to think about.
That’s the crapyness of the “new” old year for me.
It’s not really new you see.
New year is never new.

[Mrs. K i t e ]
uuu... when you're [ we 8-) ] are all-so-very famous--- 8-) I'll be able to say I saw that watercolor face to face... xD

art /[ahrt]/n 1 [U] the use of drawings, painting etc to make beautiful things of course because all art is supposed to be beautiful, just ask the realists, they attempted all to be cute didn't they or to express ideas: Steve's studying art at college gee I wonder how is he going to eat.... 2 [U] things that are produced by art[cheese is something made out of cheese isn't it... redundancy... how common], such as drawings and paintings.let's forget about literature and music! 'cause here at bffs we don't care 'bout that stuff.

I say art is when for any reason you go into some kind of trance, and just spit it all out. But that's just me perhaps...



[hey I didn't say this was art...]
by I'm the penguin

“So you think that’s right then? That you can only show up in people’s houses in the middle of the night?”
“It’s not like you’re people’s.”
“No? Then what am I?”
“You’re a friend.”
“Is that what you call me?”
“Well, yes.”
“So typical of you.”
“Whatever. Are you giving me a hand then, or what?”
“What if I don’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“WHAT IF…”
“Don’t use that tone.”
“…If I don’t? What’s your plan B?”
“There’s no plan B right now.”
“Then my answer is no.”
“I don’t get it. You’re just asking me that shit to know if I’m hopeless? To feel oh-so-powerful by knowing that without your help I’m screwed? And then, you tell me know. Let me ask you something… Do you enjoy it?”

There was a long silence.

“Goodbye then.”
“You should know it by now…”
“Know what?”
“If you hang too long in a string, it’ll break. Strings break.”
“They do.”
"That's why..."
"I know."

[Mrs. K i t e ]
I din't got a chance to chose did I?

"It was great wasn't it?" said the man to himself, the noise could be heard from the stage. The dim light of the dressing table made his round features sharper

"I guess, I mean you could have done better, you can always do better" the little man said, reflecting no emotion whatsoever in his face.

The room was hot and there was a red light coming from beneath the door, the tiny room was filled with customs, masks and feathers, lots of feathers. The man was looking deeply in the mirror, making faces to test what they looked like, the little man kept staring at the big man.

"You mother was here tonight" said the little man with a deep soar voice. His eyes piercing in that grinning man

"Let's not talk about it, please" said the man, trying to look happy and impressed, even he knew those expressions wouldn't fool anyone, so he moved on to sad faces; those were easy.

"We need to, you mess up the routine every time she shows up. If you've got some issues with her that's your business, but if you mess up with my act, then it's my business as well" said the little man.

"Look, I'll just tell her to stop coming" said the man, feeling the cheap flowered tapestry was moving, making the room narrower.

"You've said that before, Ally" the little man had yet not change his cold expression, his eyes were still fixed in the other man's face

"Don't call me Ally! I'm Albert the Amazing now, let's just leave this for tomorrow, we have to go back in one hour" said Albert the Amazing, still looking at the mirror, he was no longer trying to make any faces, he was just avoiding the little man's judging glare.

"You filthy stupid boy, you can't just be an ungrateful bastard and run away from her. She is your mother you piece of scum!" said the little man, with what could appear to be a furious expression, but was still his cold empty glare.

"Shut up! You have no idea what that woman did to me, if any, she should be grateful I didn't sue her" said scared Ally, trying to scape from the monsters which made him join the showbiz.

"Sue your own mother? You should be stoned to dead, no matter what she did, she sacrificed it all for you" said the little man

"You don't know what you're talking about, the only gave up being a whore and an alcoholic spouse who beat daily. I owe nothing to anyone, now just shut the fuck up"said the crying Albert the Amazing

"You are nothing, you will never be anything but little Ally grown in the trail park with your whore mother and bastard brothers. You think you're so great making it out of the trailer and going to the cities? You're the same piece of trash you were" said the little man, still scowling Albert.

"Shut up! Shut up!" said the man, as he stood up, grabbed the little man by the hair and crashed him into the mirror. He hit the little man several times, until the shatters of the mirror started hurting his hand.Then the door was opened.

"Excuse me sir, your act is in one hour" said a girl in the door with a schedule in her hand, with an empty expression, she didn't seem to notice the broken mirror, or the bleeding hand, or the violence.

"I know, I'll be ready" the man said, letting go of the little man's hair.

"How should I present you?" asked the bubble gum chewing girl, making a bubble.

"Albert the Amazing" he said, looking at his bleeding hand.

"And you are a..." said the girl, trying to guess by his props.

"Ventriloquist" he said annoyed, pointing at the little man with a face filled with glasses; a little man made of wax.





by I'm the penguin

I was looking at the glass. At the bottom of the glass precisely as I sipped the last inch of water on it. It was a refreshing reminder of how thirsty I was, and how long had I been suffering with dehydration without noticing it. I filled it again, and again. I felt my lips where regaining their habitual texture and I left the glass over the glass table. As they came to a sudden but mild collision I heard a peculiar sound which gave me pleasure.
My feet where cold so I tugged myself into bed. I took the book I had by my side and opened it. Page 67 as I recall. No. It was page 58. I tried to read but I didn’t had my glasses, which I said I didn’t “need” but as I tried to read I realized I did.

[ …] a crystal was built from the repetition of innumerable identical lattices – that it was, in effect, a single giant self-replication lattice – seemed marvelous to me. Crystals were like colossal microscopes that allowed one to see the actual configuration of the atoms inside them. I could almost see, in my mind’s eye, the lead atoms and the sulfur atoms composing the galena – I imagined them vibrating slightly with electrical energy, but otherwise firmly held in position, joined to one another now, coordinated in an infinite cubic lattice.

Mr Oliver Sacks's Genius, from Unlce Tungsten [of course]

[Mrs. K i t e ]