Annie on the Moon Featuring Lord Engel Atreyu: Lutetia Montmartre Sacre Coeur

Iguana

Sohe ayer que me ecotnraba unas iguanas y unas culebras huerfanas en algun cale de bogota, bogota o era bogota, era una version del malastrana de praha pero la gente era bogotana. tomaba una de esas iguanas que educaba como un loro a segirme sobre mi hombro. luego sonhe, sonhe que tenia alun libidinosos rato con olavia kite, que le decia rsentida, que la odiaba y la queria, mientras que esta segundo a seguno se convertia en ti nadja y en ti Ma belle y en todas ustedes y todo me importaba un culomientras vei en los espejos en el teco las llamas enardecer y el muno desfallcer y no me importaba eso menos que mi Iguana bastarda porque la palabra iguana me parece lo maximo asi como luego onhe que estabamos invierno, que caia nieve pero que no hacia frio y que yo me iba a mi nuevo apartamentos en el marais....

Fashionista

who would ever think that I would end up one day surrounded by German Queers, colombian successful Photographers and everywherean beautiful women posing for a camera, fixing the lights and photoshopping human imperfections

This is when I realize models can be bright and stupid
and this is when i start to miss l' undelicatesse of the women i meet in my life

I don't want to see myself as a fashionista... or at least, as the other fashionistas

Mirror Mirror

El espejito les dijo lo que no querian oir
simplemente dejen de repetirselo todo el dia
es simple amor propio
nada mas queda

All banian Cockfights y Lo que el viento se llevo

le libre arbitre
la liberte d aimer
the iron hearts
the dry tears
the neverending stories

No eyes to see
No heart to feel
no pain to die for
No reason to walk
Ill be here for you...
but i am on my own
Sans Arme sans Haine Sans Violence

and all the 3 pence theater to declare we fought until the end
you lied
i Loved, you did not believe me



It is time to go back to the stars Dear

XXI Century Model Man

Dear you,

I remember the old times with some melancholy that hits me hard, thinking that lost time could have been turned into that kind of silent gaps that make such a beautiful ambience between people. sometimes i wonder how did we get to get along so good and fight so hard in just a matter of seconds. yes, you never believed in my 3 seconds code but in the end you were faster and better than me, in just one second you made of life hell and death paradise.
we chose different lives, jaguar leathered seats dont get along with the dust of the rocky roads and the cold of the blistering gypsy nights. You chose to believe in cruelty and i decided that love was the only cause for life to be worthy. I am not talking about the love that binds people together, but the kind that makes you stick to something and find yourself faithfull to belief and trial. Yes dear, sometimes I miss you around; looking at me with those angry eyes of the inlove women that deny themselves they love someone because they hate him so much... you never said it but i know in the end you found some devilish conscience in yourself demanding to sink in some satin sheets with me as you just felt blood pressure rising all over you because I was such an ironhearted bastard... you made me that way dear... you cannot touch women with roses petals;;; but with cactus thorns...
and here i find myself.. doing in three seconds more things that what most of the people you know have done in their entire lives, playing star again and feeling like superman as the amerindian rises in me and erases the concept of fear, death, miery, deepshit and hunger, just because I am an "habitué" of this sadistic jungle i live in. Yes, I have learned to live without a heart, to feel without a soul, to see Dalian landscapes without a pair of eyes and to talk without a voice because you and I know i took her out from a museum. I have learned to keep the cold even when fire hits my eyelashes and to be excited when situation demands calm. I have learned to live with the absence of you and i have even become an addict of the lack of sex between our words. Yes dear. Hit me harder, that's what love is for me, not a matter of pain, a matter of provocation

hit me harder dear, and dissapear, in the end, I know you're hanging around thinking of where i am escaping from me without knowing it, as you realize I am just walking 3 paces before you.

Parijs as Engel atreyu

Millonaire Hare krishnas Talk to you in the metro
You have a friend in everycorner of the city
the city is your "home"
people talk to you and think by some lunatic reason you are actually an angel
women dispise you, but still dream of you ( nightmares or not)
you are eternally poor, but still can afford anything
you may not be as stylish as everyone else, but you don't fucking care, they all loook at you
you are not from here, but they cannot tell where are you from
and not, I am no flemish belgian
you constanlty want to leave
and will eternally come back
you meet the woman of your life every five minutes
and you hate the ones you loved before, here, only here
you don't dream of sex
Pigalle seems as a cleaner place than Saint germain
You are king in Barbès and the only gypsy people likes
you are not the colombian dream
you feel like the person that made of the eiffel tower some failed artistic shit
you are probably, the only latin american thing people has ever met
you are insane
you are avantgarde
you are happy when it rains
you are hot when fall comes
you can drink shitty wine and taste it like the best piper heidsiecks champagne
you have iron heart, aluminium eyelashes and Bling eyes
you are unbreakable
you are unstoppable, yet, never advancing ( just fooling around)
you are hated by jealousy
you are desired and undenied
you are undesirable
you are a saint amongst the sinners
you are an assasin with some holy cause
you are the man of the infinite solutions
you are a hairy skinhead
you are a good man

Hare Krishna

Paris is a movable Carnivale

Estaba el otro dia en el metro, me aburria como siempore, despues de las mil y un desgracias que me han pasado en estos dias y que lo unico que han hecho es hacerme sentir aun mas feliz. iba en la linea 4 direccion clignancourt, para que lo entiendendan, la linea 4 es como la septima de bogota y clignancourt es el equivalente a un san victorinos otrora lleno de gitanos y hoy en dia el hogar de miles de antillanos arabes africanos y cuantas personas escriben en alfabetos bonitos y hablan en idiomas poco sonoros.
Iba a visitar a Etienne, un viejo amigo mio con el que mas problemas he tenido que momentos cheveres. etienne es el personaje que usted no debe ver el dia que se quiere suicidar asi como es el frances de buen corazon simplemente porque el suyo propio parece una matraca del siglo doce.
Iba en el metro, llevaba 4 dias sin banharme porque el plomero volvio mierda la ducha. tengo un hermoso y grasoso pelo mono con vizos mierda y un par de gafas de nerd por aquello de la operacion que me espera en unos dias. si senores, me van a operar
llevaba mi habitual trapo rumano, un collar indio que me habia traido leonore de jaipur o quien sabe que sitio y una pulsera que me dio karen antes de decirnos adios tan fugazmente

en esas se me acerca un tipo, en un metro que parecia ese tipico bus de safari que se ve en las peliculas que se supone son en africa negra; este era el unico blanco del wagon, se parecia a jim caviezel y olia a pachuli del de 50000 Rupias; me pregunta que porque tengo eso colgado ahi, que si es moda o es por otra razon
" lo heredé" conteste
el tipo me pasa un libro sobre shiva o yo no se que bicho con 8 brazos. me pide que se lo compre.
le dije, no tengo los medios, pensando para mis adentros que en ese wagon el mas pordiosero era yo, ya habiendo alcanzado mis cuatro dias sin banharme y teniendo una mano manchada con sangre gracias a una quemadura que tuve haciendo té
el tipo se sienta, algo ofendido porque no le compro el libro, y me pasa una tarjeta sobre un sitio de harekrishnas en donde hacen meditaciones gratis y yoga
yoga.... pensaba yo en mis adentros, esto podria quitarme mis mil y un lumbagos de espalda
me levanto y le pregunto, son gratis?
dice que si y me invita a sentarme con el, hablamos. el acababa de llegar a paris de ukrania, hablaba un frances impecable, le pregunto que de donde es, me dice, franco gringo, he estado en todo el mundo blablablabla. me pregunta que de donde soy
contesto, colombie
depronto e voltea y me dice con un sabor latino digno de celia cruz
Bogota o cali?
sonrio, pienso, esto debe ser un paisa ganandose la vida tramando gente
le digo, santamarta
quedamos de hablar, le conte que acababa de llegar tamlbien, que tenia dinero por una vez en la vida pero no tenia un arriendo en donde gastarmelo y nadie conquien compartirlo salvo dos o tres guevas y las pesadillas de amsterdam
el tipo me dice, yo tengo mucho dinero, mis padres son muy adinerados, de eso vivo
pero el dinero es lo que me permite moverme
no le pedi ayuda, no me la ofrecio
solo me di cuenta que el tipo queria hablar conmigo
quien sabe, hasta sospecho que queria follar conmigo
me molestaba esa idea, pero el hombre habia caido bien
quede en visitarlo, a las siete de la manahana, en el corazon de barbes.

es chistoso, como pasamos de ser tildados de pervertidos, putas, asesinos, drogadictos, mafiosos, gomelitos, pobres diablos, miserables, normales, anormales, indios, extranjeros, lo que seas

hasta que un hare krishna, vestido de civil, viene a hablarte como uno de lo suyos

Ends

Fall comes, takes it all away, It is funny to see people changing skins and mood as if we were skaes and not rats. Ikealand Is making me Go wild. saturdy we went to ikea, Ikea is some sort of swedish bima, let's say te king of bimas. Ikea sells fashion design for cheap.. yes, you buy beautiful things made of crap. Ikea Is good for you. Ikea is cheap, Ikea thinks of it all. Ikea will be a pain in the ass. Ikea Is the dildo of yor XXI century's life in the so mistaken first world.
Probably i Miss te ma I was, probably You became too salow Or I turned to bitter, Probably I started to think clearly and avantgarde and absynth came out in one of my frequent puking sessions. I miss te ants in my arms uring the sleep. I miss heartaches. I miss emotions, I miss true anger and hate and Passion and sex an love, and kiss and the delicious orgam of waking up in the morning and move slowly to not wake you up and look at you, all smelly all roten all dirty all weaty all human all unpretty and kiss you and see you smile.
I miss that feeling of needing that
I miss the uncleaningless pefection of the non Ikea World. I might not be a swede, I am a Macondian man. We are the ones " buying stocks in the day of te crash" as pearl jam says or just buying souls to sell some happiness.
Winter approaches fall comes. You are gone,she is getting me out of here, i dont feel anything and paris, paris remains the same, as everyyear, taking out love in this season of the year. Paris remains the same, same cafe, same pigalle, the same japanese tourist multiplied by a thousand. the same old people, another Era, yes you, another era.

This is the Era of Ends
This is the Era of War
This is the Era when I wait for things to go anormal again.



Sans Arme Sans Haine Sans Violence