Manifiesto No.1

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrasment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.

But why would I want to do a thing like that?


Mark Renton en Trainspotting, de Irvine Welsh

Ejercicio practico de lectura entre lineas No.2

"What you don't know... Can't hurt you.
A zombie hord is aproaching.
So now you know"

The "Move Your Feet" Game

Mientras miraba a la luz pensaba:
"Si tuviera el protector puesto en la boca por dos meses... mi silencio me delataría"

En ese instante el gancho izquierdo cayo pesadamente sobre mi mandibula... avisado, lleva dolor... pero no sorpresa.

Sueños me hablan acerca de este knockout... me muestran el golpe desde todos los angulos posibles.

Entonces tengo miedo de mirar... y necesidad de ver
aliviado por enterarme, vacio por saberlo
es decir,
estoy decepcionado
y tranquilo
de pronto mas lo primero
que lo segundo...

...y tambien,
tal como lei la primera vez ,

viceversa