Wanna be Jim Morrison.

You've been with me a year to the day; 365 days watching me decay. We used to talk about girls who play guitars; we used to talk about plans in tiny bars. In the gaps, inbetween words, are the things that really intrigue me. It's the gasps and the sighs that say more about what's inside you. We used to climb up on a high horse everytime; we used to talk about boys with missing spines. It's her life and her life is worth living; it never struck her to pause for one minute. The path of excess just led to boredom; you've lived your life with your mouth wide open. It's her life and her life is worth living; it never struck her just to pause for one minute. When you lie on my bed and you label me your friend; don't you know how much that hurts? You could pretend and I wouldn't know; I could be who you wanted in the dark.


Nostalgy officially begins.

There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard; no song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart. Our dreams, they are made out of real things, like a shoebox of photographs with sepia-toned loving. Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart, like 'why are we here?' and 'where do we go?' and 'how come it's so hard?'. It's not always easy and sometimes life can be deceiving; I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together. It's always better when we're together; yeah, we'll look at the stars and we're together. And all of these moments just might find their way into my dreams tonight, but I know that they’ll be gone when the morning light sings and brings new things. For tomorrow night you see that they’ll be gone too; too many things I have to do. But if all of these dreams might find their way into my day to day scene, I'd be under the impression I was somewhere in between. Yeah It's always better when we're together.

Oficialmente, se terminó. Gracias French por tantos años hermosos ♥.

We won't be seventeen forever.

Oh, she's only seventeen; whine, whine, whine, weep over everything. Bloody Mary breakfast busting up the street; brothers fighting, when's the baby gonna sleep? Heaving ship too sails away; said it's a culmination of a story and a goodbye session. It's a tick of our time and the tic in his head that made me feel so strange. So I could call you baby, I could call you dammit; it's a one in a million. Oh, it's the rolling of your Spanish tongue that made me wanna stay.

Me gusta mucho este tema. Y, bueno, ¿a ustedes dos que les puedo decir? ♥

Friends will be friends.

El otoño está acá, oye el grito; de nuevo a la escuela, suena el timbre. Nuevos zapatos, melancolía caminante; escala el cerco, libros y lapiceras. Puedo decirte que vamos a ser amigas. Camina conmigo, Suzy Lee, a través del parque y junto al árbol. Descansaremos sobre la tierra y miraremos a todos los bichos que encontremos. Luego caminaremos a salvo hacia la escuela, sin ningún sonido. Bueno, acá estamos, no hay nadie más; caminamos a la escuela por nuestra cuenta. Hay suciedad en nuestros uniformes, por perseguir todas las hormigas y los gusanos. Nos limpiamos y ahora es tiempo de aprender: números, letras, aprender a deletrear; verbos y libros, y mostrar y decir. En el recreo, vamos a jugar con una pelota; de nuevo a las clases, a través del recibidor, la profesora marcará nuestra altura contra la pared. Y no nos damos cuenta de como el tiempo pasa, no nos damos cuenta de nada; nos sentamos lado a lado en todas las clases. La profesora piensa que yo sueno graciosa, pero le gusta la forma en que cantás. Esta noche voy a soñar mientras esté en mi cama, cuando tontos pensamientos pasen por mi cabeza sobre bichos y el abecedario. Y cuando me levante mañana, puedo apostar que vos y yo vamos a volver a caminar juntas, porque puedo asegurar que vamos a ser amigas.
La puse en castellano para vos, para la negra más negra de todas (: . Gracias por todos estos años de estupideces y buenos momentos. Mañana te espero con los matecitos jaja. Te quiero muchísimo amiga. Y, como ya te dije, por muchos, muchos años más ♥.

This house is a Circus.

Sweeping the floors, open up the doors; turn on the lights, get ready for the night. Nobody's romancing cause it's too early for dancing, but here comes the music. Bright lights flashing to cover up you; like so many people, so many problem, so many reasons to buy another round, drink it down; just another night on the town. With the big man, money man, better than the other man; he got the plan with the million-dollar, give a damn; when nobody understand, he'll become a smaller man. The bright lights keep flashing and the women keep dancing with the clowns; Pick me up when I'm down. Rodeo clowns, they pick me up when I'm down. The disco ball's spinning, all the music and the women and the shots of tequila, man, they'll say that they need ya; what they really need, is just a little room to breathe. A teeny-bopping disco queen, she barely understands; her dreams are belly-button rings and other kinds of things, symbolic of change, but the thing that is strange is the change has occurred.
JAJAJA, las payasas del French ♥. Las quiero mucho !