(my) Feelings, Naked

What is wrong with me ?

Every person that I knew failed me,

everyone of them showed me that friendship is an ilusion,


is something wrong with me ?

Is so difficult to find peace, to be happy ?

Everyone feels alone,

or is just me ?

Is there anyone not thinking only for himself/herself ?

Or, is something wrong with me ?

I feel I’m losing the game

I know sadness, and anger is ON

I’m afraid of what I can become

I can’t ask for help,

I can’t believe in anyone,

every person I know teach me that trust is an ilusion

and, I’m a dreamer, a fool

Why is so difficult to find peace ? Why is so difficult to find happiness ?

Is too much to ask for love, acceptance, a friend, a brother, a family,

someone in who I can trust ?

Negative thoughts cloud my mind

Anger is ON

I know sadness

Evil ghosts surrounds me

… is there a place where I belong ?

Bleeding meal

They scream, but who hears ?

They suffer, but who cares ?

You see them as a product, something for consume


To satisfy our consumer addiction

you’ve got them in your table, their blood, their bones

another product,

all their suffering

is only another piece of meat between your teeths.

Could you look at them, to their eyes and tell them :

I’m sorry, but my hunger is worth your suffering ?

Me, not …

Next time you eat a chicken, a piece of meat

cow meat, pig meat, sheep meat, or a fish

know that this tasty meal was a life

that lived in fear, imprisoned,

another product

that bleeds.

Night (Rosh HaShana)

The streets are empty

Darkness and the new year

Night, I am happy

(note : So, today was the jew’s new year, we are starting the year 5775, I’m at work, the hour : 03:20 AM, outside I can see the darkness, the night, I love the night, at this hour there is nobody in the streets, I can hear the silence, I’m at peace)

Untitled No. 21

I feel the urge to cum
over the poetry of your body
your (vaginal) lips that tell me of Sappho
the wasted road of your hips
your tits like mountains, honey mountains, and
I’m an explorer,
I submerge myself in the sea of your purple fluids

You are mine tonight, the stars in the sky watch you and envy you
because your are mine
everything can happen
we are ethereal
our hearts pumping blood + adrenaline

A circle of saliva around us
and in the middle of the night
I name you
Queen, Goddess
of nature

I’ll not remember you tomorrow
but tonight
we are one, one body, one soul
communion of the spirit

But tomorrow
you’ll be another empty memory
in the longing of the void

Endless days

Endless days

watching the day, the night, the day, and again the night passing by

in my bed


Endless days


without money

begging some food, some cents, some beer

Endless days


Endless days

when my only food are my words


A beer is a good friend,
An animal is a good friend,
A dog, or a cat that you adopt, alone, in your house,
But people
People are only interested in what you have
And they are not real friends
I mean, not everyone, but most
I feel more appreciated by my cat
Than from some of my “friends”,
My so called friends
My fucked-up friends
Those friends that leave you alone in the middle of the street
And don’t care how you come back home
Those so-called-friends.
A dog will stay at your side
A cat too
A beer
An icy cold beer is a good friend in a sticky-hot-summer-day
But people will smile at you, give you a hug, and then, let you to rot
They will give their back on you when you most need them
Friends Friends Friends
I want to believe in real friendship
But I’m starting to loose my faith
(on them)


Quiero inyectar en mis venas un poco de locura, felicidad, alegría. Quiero dormir esta noche con vos, que no estas, que nunca estuviste. Quiero gritar a la luna con mi voz de lobo, cantar una canción triste que recuerde mis antepasados. Quiero, pero mis venas están vacías, la sangre se olvidó de correr, mi voz se quedo muda, cual fantasma que llora en el rincón, apagado, aferrandose la vida, sin saber que esta muerto. Tal vez algún día te encuentre, al lado de la ruta, e incendiemos los bares. Mi alma está seca, como un desierto de sal. Hoy mi espíritu es más triste que todos los árboles de Navidad muertos del mundo, y mi cuerpo está borracho. Voy a flagelar mi cuerpo, cortar mi pecho, mis brazos, mis piernas, con cuchillos oxidados, para sentir de cerca el dolor, para saber que aún siento. Hoy quiero estar muerto, enterrado bajo tierra, mi alma pudriendose en el infierno, lástima que soy ateo y no creo ni en dios ni en el diablo. Lo único que importa es lo material, satisfacer los deseos de la carne. El único sentimiento que conozco es el odio, tendría que haber sido abortado. Mi día se convirtió en noche, y las estrellas se apagaron.