<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701</id><updated>2011-11-09T19:59:41.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Con los Ojos Abiertos</title><subtitle type='html'>O realmente muy cerrados...



Irrealidad cotidiana para degustar.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>302</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-1465689148116314321</id><published>2006-12-28T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T17:51:15.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Despedida</title><content type='html'>hoy voy a tomar la palabra en este blog, &lt;br /&gt;q la palabra tenga forma de tabique entre una vida y la proxima. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quizás vuelva a la vida, quizás no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no voy a fingir mi muerte. como lo hice por unos segundos. es demasiado morbo. pero en cierta forma quiero ponerme fin a mi, a esto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es cuestión de quemar etapas. dejar sentimientos. &lt;br /&gt;y es q todo me recuerda al pasado. hasta este blog muerto. todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;será porque es fin de año. será por es fin de esto q me pasa, q me pasó. o es un arranque de llanto q no puedo controlar demasiado bien, pero se saborea a ganas de cambio en el paladar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a partir de ahora, si vuelvo, será q q tengo regresiones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nos vemos en otra vida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saludos a todos los q alguna vez entraron y leyeron mis humildes palabras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.flor. o &lt;a href="http://no-a-lugar.blogspot.com/"&gt;Isa***&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-1465689148116314321?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/1465689148116314321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=1465689148116314321&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/1465689148116314321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/1465689148116314321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/despedida.html' title='Despedida'/><author><name>. isa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.cindysherman.com/images/photographs/UntitledFilmStill58.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-8774448594240139376</id><published>2006-12-28T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T00:16:34.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. melanco</title><content type='html'>quisiera &lt;br /&gt;la desnudez de tus pies&lt;br /&gt;sobre mi parquet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la suavidad de tus manos&lt;br /&gt;sobre esta piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el peso de tu vida&lt;br /&gt;sobre la mía&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y al revés,&lt;br /&gt;todo al revés:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nada moriría al salir el sol&lt;br /&gt;serias eterno en mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sin miedos al tequiero&lt;br /&gt;sin prosas desfiguradas por el llanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eterno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como antes de matarnos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-8774448594240139376?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/8774448594240139376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=8774448594240139376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/8774448594240139376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/8774448594240139376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/melanco.html' title='. melanco'/><author><name>. isa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.cindysherman.com/images/photographs/UntitledFilmStill58.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-5296355001446664959</id><published>2006-12-27T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T23:59:25.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. desconocida</title><content type='html'>no me vas a entender&lt;br /&gt;ni yo puedo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en días de novedoso amor propio&lt;br /&gt;o sorprendente asimilacion de tu rostro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no hay llantos mas q por el dolor real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en días de tus ojos&lt;br /&gt;y mis pupilas tan distintas a las tuyas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no hay más dolores q aquel unico dolor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en días de vestidos floreados&lt;br /&gt;y tu piel, toda, tan lejos, pero sabidamente suave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(lo c? me lo invento? te conozco? te quise? me obsesioné?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no hay más doloroso q saberte desconocida&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-5296355001446664959?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/5296355001446664959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=5296355001446664959&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/5296355001446664959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/5296355001446664959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/desconocida.html' title='. desconocida'/><author><name>. isa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.cindysherman.com/images/photographs/UntitledFilmStill58.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-8035881504540923633</id><published>2006-12-27T23:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T23:30:38.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. con la letra de tu nombre</title><content type='html'>tú: todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acá reinas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-8035881504540923633?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/8035881504540923633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=8035881504540923633&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/8035881504540923633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/8035881504540923633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/con-la-letra-de-tu-nombre.html' title='. con la letra de tu nombre'/><author><name>. isa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.cindysherman.com/images/photographs/UntitledFilmStill58.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-4869082706244680258</id><published>2006-12-27T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T23:18:45.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. zapatos rojos</title><content type='html'>mis pies &lt;br /&gt;contentos&lt;br /&gt;en sus zapatos rojos&lt;br /&gt;caminaron &lt;br /&gt;buscandote&lt;br /&gt;por la ciudad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deambularon buscando un par&lt;br /&gt;de ojos tuyos&lt;br /&gt;para q miren en mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;las calles dolían&lt;br /&gt;hoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos no estabas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-4869082706244680258?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/4869082706244680258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=4869082706244680258&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/4869082706244680258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/4869082706244680258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/zapatos-rojos.html' title='. zapatos rojos'/><author><name>. isa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.cindysherman.com/images/photographs/UntitledFilmStill58.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116566597580378164</id><published>2006-12-09T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T04:06:16.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. lejos suena distinto</title><content type='html'>y q si yo sin vos: qué?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si desarmar es preciso para ordenar(se)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el ensimismamiento de mis partes, &lt;br /&gt;enlatadas dentro de mi piel,&lt;br /&gt;de alli hacia adentro,&lt;br /&gt;sabe a locura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;todos mis ojos,&lt;br /&gt;toda mi piel, &lt;br /&gt;escucha,&lt;br /&gt;besa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sonrisa pq entiendo el sentido del espiral&lt;br /&gt;de la risa;&lt;br /&gt;sonrisa pq no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sonrisa pq desespera no saber cómo volver,&lt;br /&gt;y sonrisa pq no vuelvo...&lt;br /&gt;más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no podrias imaginarlo&lt;br /&gt;pq tu costumbre te devuelve estáticos retornos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuando en verdad "yo" jamás volvió:&lt;br /&gt;volví yo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116566597580378164?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116566597580378164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116566597580378164&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116566597580378164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116566597580378164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/12/lejos-suena-distinto.html' title='. lejos suena distinto'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116450405709634625</id><published>2006-11-25T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T17:20:57.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. descubrir vida</title><content type='html'>no quiero hacer una pelicula intimista&lt;br /&gt;solo quiero narrar visualmente lo q veo,&lt;br /&gt;la vida q veo,&lt;br /&gt;desde el balcon se ven muchos departamentos...&lt;br /&gt;las torres, el barrio es un centro departamental de vida&lt;br /&gt;mucha vida&lt;br /&gt;eso es lo q quiero:&lt;br /&gt;narrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...q las imagenes se asemejan a escenas de la infancia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y estan por todos lados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;los perros de la noche de las narices frías&lt;br /&gt;en su balcon preocupados&lt;br /&gt;por comunicarse con el resto de los perros&lt;br /&gt;para pasar el mensaje&lt;br /&gt;de q los dalmatas estaban cautivos en ese lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"oh, voticario, sus drogas hacen efecto!"&lt;br /&gt;exclamó romeo sobre su lecho de muerte&lt;br /&gt;sobre su julieta&lt;br /&gt;-ironico q ella SEA su lecho de muerte, no?-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la nena q practica sus coreografias rosas&lt;br /&gt;con su amiga imaginaria&lt;br /&gt;apenas acercandose al borde&lt;br /&gt;de las rejas del balcon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;abajo los chicos juegan&lt;br /&gt;a la pelota o a la mancha&lt;br /&gt;y alguien esta de cara a la tierra otra vez&lt;br /&gt;al lodo&lt;br /&gt;-q bella es la infancia...-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y yo &lt;br /&gt;de este lado de mis rejas&lt;br /&gt;q me protegen de mi misma&lt;br /&gt;y mis 11 pisos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de renovado ego&lt;br /&gt;y prescencia mental,&lt;br /&gt;claridad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ruidotransporte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un nuevo ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;creo q esto fue pasar de una etapa&lt;br /&gt;cambiar&lt;br /&gt;crecer&lt;br /&gt;creo q esto fue madurar. mirá vos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o quizás tan solo alguien me arrancó un pedazo de alma,&lt;br /&gt;o de neuronas con imagenes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y con eso me separé de mis imagenes melancolicas,&lt;br /&gt;perdí una parte de mi, acaso?&lt;br /&gt;fue eso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eso es madurar?&lt;br /&gt;q los fibrones no escriban más es madurar, entonces o no?&lt;br /&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;NO &lt;br /&gt;NOOO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aqui es cuando deberia gritar BASTA&lt;br /&gt;q no es cierto&lt;br /&gt;q sigo teniendo el sentir en algun lado&lt;br /&gt;q no hay un tabique q me separa de mis otras partes&lt;br /&gt;q no es cierto, no&lt;br /&gt;no lo es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estoy completa. me miento y me lo creo&lt;br /&gt;me tranquiliza. aunq sea una mentira mia&lt;br /&gt;dirigida a mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuanto sinsentido q tenía dentro!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;qué escucho? que dices? qué pasa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;definitivamente tabicada&lt;br /&gt;gigantemente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;son ellos q se siguen comunicando&lt;br /&gt;a ladridos puros&lt;br /&gt;a ladridos cariñosos&lt;br /&gt;a sensaciones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos cerrás la puerta.&lt;br /&gt;no importa. &lt;br /&gt;allá siempre habrá vida.&lt;br /&gt;(alguien asiente)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116450405709634625?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116450405709634625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116450405709634625&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116450405709634625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116450405709634625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/descubrir-vida.html' title='. descubrir vida'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116449939975309345</id><published>2006-11-25T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T16:03:21.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. anoche</title><content type='html'>rapido&lt;br /&gt;a veces demasiado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saber permanecer &lt;br /&gt;en el tiempo&lt;br /&gt;estática&lt;br /&gt;y no morir&lt;br /&gt;-al contrario-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;espacios en donde se reconoce&lt;br /&gt;la capacidad de sonreir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aún desp de relámpagos &lt;br /&gt;y truenos&lt;br /&gt;en la noche fría&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-notá q no hace frío-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cierto, tenés razón-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116449939975309345?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116449939975309345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116449939975309345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116449939975309345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116449939975309345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/anoche.html' title='. anoche'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116286667415663426</id><published>2006-11-06T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T18:31:14.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. frío</title><content type='html'>las lagrimas frías&lt;br /&gt;ahogan la vista hacia un preterito pluscuamperfecto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el problema es q no aprendí a conjugar en futuro...&lt;br /&gt;ni con lagrimas frías sobre la piel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116286667415663426?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116286667415663426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116286667415663426&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286667415663426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286667415663426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/fro.html' title='. frío'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116286571629806388</id><published>2006-11-06T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T18:15:16.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. cariló</title><content type='html'>me quedó un estupido &lt;br /&gt;granito de arena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entre las medias&lt;br /&gt;y mi piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y quien sabe porqué&lt;br /&gt;me recuerda a vos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como el atardecer a kms de tu cara soñolienta&lt;br /&gt;y una cama inusualmente desconocida,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pastillitas para vivir,&lt;br /&gt;y un bolso preparado para huir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en todo estás&lt;br /&gt;aunq hayas provocado agujeros gigantes&lt;br /&gt;entre los lienzos de mi almita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora q no sabemos donde queda casa,&lt;br /&gt;donde quedo yo,&lt;br /&gt;me retumban los silencios q me dejas del otro lado del telefono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y tu letra entre mis hojas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿porqué me emboscaste entre la lluvia cruzando un medano?&lt;br /&gt;¿pq me emboscaste desde tan lejos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y te ahogabas en mi té,&lt;br /&gt;mientras yo me limitaba a tragar, &lt;br /&gt;a sonreir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no hay tu cara en mi taza.&lt;br /&gt;finjamos q no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y en el medio de todo aquello&lt;br /&gt;q se arremolinaba en su propia frivolidad, &lt;br /&gt;allí, yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo y mi cara&lt;br /&gt;q se caia por entre los charcos&lt;br /&gt;buscandote en una marquesina mal puesta&lt;br /&gt;y debajo de aquellas propinas faciles de dar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y debajo mis ganas&lt;br /&gt;q se hundian por entre la arena mojada&lt;br /&gt;y se abrigaban entre las olas&lt;br /&gt;con la unica esperanza de ahogarse y no salir más,&lt;br /&gt;y no recordarte más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;las nubes te querian. yo sé q si.&lt;br /&gt;te querian tener presente en el vertice exacto de mis horizontes rotos&lt;br /&gt;y estas cicatrices febriles de copas rojas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;derramé sobre el pasto mi vino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y como si nada vos ahi. yo acá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un ladrido. lluvia. &lt;br /&gt;pero nada mojaba. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eras vos cayendo desde el cielo. era yo llorando sin llorar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te me escapaste de mi bufanda cuando la ventisca me despistó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;corrí un poco, &lt;br /&gt;jadeé,&lt;br /&gt;tropecé...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me quedó un estupido &lt;br /&gt;granito de arena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entre las medias&lt;br /&gt;y mi piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y quien sabe porqué&lt;br /&gt;me recuerda a vos,&lt;br /&gt;me recuerda a vos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como todo lo demás.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116286571629806388?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116286571629806388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116286571629806388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286571629806388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286571629806388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/caril.html' title='. cariló'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116286460642051980</id><published>2006-11-06T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T17:56:46.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. Manhattan Skyline</title><content type='html'>We sit and watch umbrellas fly&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to keep my newspaper dry&lt;br /&gt;I hear myself say&lt;br /&gt;My boat's leaving now&lt;br /&gt;So we shake hands and cry&lt;br /&gt;Now I must wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Wave goodbye, wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Wave goodbye, wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I don't want to cry again&lt;br /&gt;I'll never see your face again&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to cry again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave to their goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;I've come to depend on the look in their eyes&lt;br /&gt;My blood's sweet for pain&lt;br /&gt;The wind and the rain brings back words of a song&lt;br /&gt;And they sing wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Wave goodbye, wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Wave goodbye, wave goodbye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I don't want to cry again&lt;br /&gt;I'll never see your face again&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to cry again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I read to myself&lt;br /&gt;A chance of a lifetime to see new horizons&lt;br /&gt;On the front page a black and white picture of&lt;br /&gt;Manhattan Skyline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[kingsOFconvenience]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116286460642051980?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116286460642051980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116286460642051980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286460642051980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116286460642051980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/manhattan-skyline.html' title='. Manhattan Skyline'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116285898011369138</id><published>2006-11-06T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T16:23:00.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. nosequé</title><content type='html'>será un descargo. &lt;br /&gt;será un nosequé sin cicatrizantes. &lt;br /&gt;duele. no estás. y vos tampoco. &lt;br /&gt;y cerrar. sabes lo q es cerrar? &lt;br /&gt;sabes lo q es clausurarme un recuerdo? &lt;br /&gt;denegarle la admision a la felicidad? &lt;br /&gt;sabes lo q  es hundirse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;son tajos mentales. huecos en donde me caigo pq me faltás. &lt;br /&gt;resbalón con mis lagrimas. y ahi en el suelo, todo demasiado lodoso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero claro, si estuvieses vos...no me importaría el tropezón, ni la cara en el barro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero no estás.&lt;br /&gt;me seguis faltando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y adelante me urge. pero no puedo. no puedo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no puedo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y empequeñezco a causa de ello..o quizás exactamente al revés.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no puedo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116285898011369138?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116285898011369138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116285898011369138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116285898011369138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116285898011369138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/11/nosequ.html' title='. nosequé'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116167648902196579</id><published>2006-10-24T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T00:54:49.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. reina</title><content type='html'>pisando el mismo suelo&lt;br /&gt;y sin embargo tan lejos&lt;br /&gt;reina&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos&lt;br /&gt;en mi ebriedad de soles&lt;br /&gt;en tu ebriedad de vida&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos&lt;br /&gt;reina&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116167648902196579?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116167648902196579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116167648902196579&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167648902196579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167648902196579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/reina.html' title='. reina'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116167560113138031</id><published>2006-10-24T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T00:56:36.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. antes del número dos</title><content type='html'>.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116167560113138031?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116167560113138031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116167560113138031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167560113138031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167560113138031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/antes-del-nmero-dos.html' title='. antes del número dos'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116167545793675627</id><published>2006-10-24T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T00:37:37.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. 16y24deOctubre</title><content type='html'>no c, pensálo.&lt;br /&gt;se acabó todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me obligo a tragar cada bocado&lt;br /&gt;de realidad.&lt;br /&gt;no tengo hambre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se acabó todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;creo de a ratos,&lt;br /&gt;lloro demasiado,&lt;br /&gt;se me olvidó como verbalizar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos de todo&lt;br /&gt;tan lejos&lt;br /&gt;-escapé?-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;número tres. rebuscado. enreda.&lt;br /&gt;no, si.&lt;br /&gt;dos. &lt;br /&gt;siempre dos.&lt;br /&gt;¿pq tres? ¿porqué?&lt;br /&gt;suficiencia. deficiencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cicatrizante: &lt;br /&gt;no es cierto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tres de azucar. viví.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116167545793675627?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116167545793675627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116167545793675627&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167545793675627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167545793675627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/16y24deoctubre.html' title='. 16y24deOctubre'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116167460584760040</id><published>2006-10-24T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T00:23:26.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. 3am</title><content type='html'>jueves-viernes&lt;br /&gt;13 de octubre&lt;br /&gt;cuaderno abierto-cerrado&lt;br /&gt;cuaderno manchado&lt;br /&gt;3 am&lt;br /&gt;gotas&lt;br /&gt;interior derrumbado&lt;br /&gt;derruido&lt;br /&gt;ruido&lt;br /&gt;oido&lt;br /&gt;silencio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lagrimas 4 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;palabras internas&lt;br /&gt;internas&lt;br /&gt;locas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guardapolvos manchados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nada nace&lt;br /&gt;nada vive&lt;br /&gt;nada queda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;desgarro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca pensé en esto...&lt;br /&gt;cuaderno cerrado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116167460584760040?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116167460584760040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116167460584760040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167460584760040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167460584760040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/3am.html' title='. 3am'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-116167320181737652</id><published>2006-10-23T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T00:00:01.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. vademecum fantasias</title><content type='html'>compañía alrededor. halagos. virtudes. una carencia, o varias. soledad extremada.&lt;br /&gt;suicidio en la sangría de la historia.&lt;br /&gt;todo pasa por el umbral del dolor. capacidad de snetir demasiado, capacidad de bloquear pero seguir sangrando.&lt;br /&gt;blancas.&lt;br /&gt;pastillas blancas, fragmentadas.&lt;br /&gt;¿mejor sola q mal acompañada? y entonces ¿pq mal acompañda antes q sola?&lt;br /&gt;basta de esto.&lt;br /&gt;fantasias de muerte. fantasias de caer, golpear, dejar.&lt;br /&gt;fantasias de cortar, sangrar, abandonar.&lt;br /&gt;fantasias de pastillas, desconocer, irme.&lt;br /&gt;fantasias de no llorar más.&lt;br /&gt;¿pq estamos así?&lt;br /&gt;insomnio.&lt;br /&gt;fantasia de la noche silenciosa.&lt;br /&gt;ningún canto. quietud -como antes de la tempestad- &lt;br /&gt;la unica verdad es&lt;br /&gt;q fantaseo con no soñar. &lt;br /&gt;insomnio no es eso...&lt;br /&gt;(en algún momento cierro los ojos y no tengo verdad)&lt;br /&gt;fantasias de...volverte hacia mi,&lt;br /&gt;.              devolverte de mi,&lt;br /&gt;.              extirparte de aquí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[03-10-2006]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-116167320181737652?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/116167320181737652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=116167320181737652&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167320181737652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/116167320181737652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/vademecum-fantasias.html' title='. vademecum fantasias'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115995471888648433</id><published>2006-10-04T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T02:44:16.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.alternando</title><content type='html'>mejor?&lt;br /&gt;solo distinta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alternando entre tener los ojos abiertos o cositas fuera de lugar-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el problema radica ahi: puesto q tengo muchas cositas fuera de lugar es q mantengo los ojos abiertos hasta altas horas de la noche(o muy tempranas del día)...es quizás por eso que se pueda explicar el lagrimeo ocasional, la cabeza repleta de ideas desordenadas, siempre dodne no deberian ubicarse, a las horas q no deberias surgir, quizas por eso es q me centro solo en mi y el resto se derrumba, y asi se derrumba todo lo q excede los limites de mi propia piel...y no estoy diciendo q por dentro no sea un desastre, para nada, solo q afuera se nota. del otro lado esta el exterior, y allí el resto, lo q queda en la resta entre el mundo y mi persona. &lt;br /&gt;del otro aldo siempre hay demasiado q hacer para q las cosas no c derrumben..como crear lazos, fingir sonrisas, no herir a nadie, o herir a toods, o abandonarlo todo... &lt;br /&gt;no hay tés q solucionen esto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...es q hasta me perdí a mi msima entre todo esto: se me ha olvidado oficialmente como era...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;demasiada herrumbre, demasiada catastrofe, demasiadas ideas y escaso tiempo, escaso cuerpo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a veces siento q no podria seguir así ni un instante más...&lt;br /&gt;otras, q todo acaba de comenzar...pero me doy cuenta, y se ha acabado todo otra vez, o sigo parada en el final en el q estaba...nunca lo sabré&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y así sigo mis dias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;montañas rusas de yoes (aunq no lo sienta subir)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115995471888648433?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115995471888648433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115995471888648433&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115995471888648433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115995471888648433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/10/alternando.html' title='.alternando'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115958415380631159</id><published>2006-09-29T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T19:42:33.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. no c si será por mucho tiempo</title><content type='html'>tiempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y sin embargo las venas intactas&lt;br /&gt;con mi dolor intacto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;con los planes incompletos&lt;br /&gt;con las lagrimas perdidas dentro de mi bañadera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiempo&lt;br /&gt;y sin embargo las venas cerradas&lt;br /&gt;y ningun veneno disuelto en ellas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y sin embargo yo no quiero más&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115958415380631159?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115958415380631159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115958415380631159&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115958415380631159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115958415380631159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/09/no-c-si-ser-por-mucho-tiempo.html' title='. no c si será por mucho tiempo'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115890785779847366</id><published>2006-09-21T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T23:50:57.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.garras</title><content type='html'>el tamaño perfecto para atraparme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no creas q evitaré el juego&lt;br /&gt;entre ver tus garras&lt;br /&gt;y no tener salida&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115890785779847366?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115890785779847366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115890785779847366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115890785779847366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115890785779847366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/09/garras.html' title='.garras'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115864321134642556</id><published>2006-09-18T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T22:26:24.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>7.9.05 escrito por Febe en &lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://sinsaldo.blogspot.com/"&gt;SinSaldo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No se si te va a importar, si tal vez te moleste, o te resulte indiferente; pero por primera vez no me dueles. A veces pienso en ti, pero solo es eso.&lt;br /&gt;Algo ha hecho crac dentro de mí, se rompió el cordón umbilical a través del cual me alimentaba y a pesar de todo sigo viva, me siento independiente.&lt;br /&gt;Dos líneas paralelas estarían mas que bien. Si quieres cero, también puedo darte eso, o mejor me pierdo, o mejor te esfumas. Lo que prefieras, el dolor no es tan intenso. Me adapto deprisa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115864321134642556?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115864321134642556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115864321134642556&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115864321134642556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115864321134642556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/09/7.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115863402647291495</id><published>2006-09-18T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T23:32:48.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.cicatrices</title><content type='html'>me entretengo descascarandome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-hacia pieles nuevas?&lt;br /&gt;- pieles no lo c, pero ciertamente será algo nuevo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115863402647291495?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115863402647291495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115863402647291495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115863402647291495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115863402647291495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/09/cicatrices.html' title='.cicatrices'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115562130491670294</id><published>2006-08-14T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T22:55:04.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. blue</title><content type='html'>lágrimas como tónico para la piel,&lt;br /&gt;lágrimas para una piel tersa,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soledades (multiples soledades) como resguardo contra el invierno,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;autismos como método de creación,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;libros para colorear y dos lapices: gris y azul,&lt;br /&gt;pinturita negra para el alma...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mañana" como esperanza...¿esperanza?&lt;br /&gt;diccionario para esperanza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;libertades para encerrarse...&lt;br /&gt;irónico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;venas para mi sangre,&lt;br /&gt;sangre para vivir&lt;br /&gt;¿vivir para qué?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dudas, muchas dudas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sueños.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sueños como basura &lt;br /&gt;-pero si la basura va al basurero...-&lt;br /&gt;sueños al basurero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silogismos hipotéticos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;todo. &lt;br /&gt;mi todo, su todo.&lt;br /&gt;todo cabía en una caja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basurita en el ojo, &lt;br /&gt;no es llanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[blue 14-08-2006]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115562130491670294?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115562130491670294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115562130491670294&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115562130491670294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115562130491670294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/blue.html' title='. blue'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115561976201347551</id><published>2006-08-14T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T22:43:57.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. duele</title><content type='html'>"[la vida] Me duele en su perfecto pasado&lt;br /&gt;            ya que está&lt;br /&gt;            irremediable y estático.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Irrevibible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la lagrima duele&lt;br /&gt;tanto esfuerzo hace para no caerse...&lt;br /&gt;ignoraba esto&lt;br /&gt;me gustaria seguir ignorandolo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q te extraño sonaría muy trillado?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q me duele?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no tenes idea cuanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y no frena, solo se incrementa más y más&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y no puedo hablarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o no sabes de q hablarme...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me rompe el cuerpo desde adentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me parte la piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me tritura las ideas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me duele&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y nunca dolió tanto, sabes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D U E L E con demasiadas letras&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115561976201347551?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115561976201347551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115561976201347551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115561976201347551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115561976201347551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/duele.html' title='. duele'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115559216571724982</id><published>2006-08-14T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T15:11:35.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.dust in the wind</title><content type='html'>I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone. &lt;br /&gt;All my dreams pass before my eyes in curiosity. &lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;All they are is dust in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;Same old song. &lt;br /&gt;Just a drop of water in an endless sea. &lt;br /&gt;All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see. &lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;All we are is dust in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON'T HANG ON, NOTHING LASTS FOREVER BUT THE EARTH AND SKY. &lt;br /&gt;It slips away and all your money won't another minute buy. &lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;All we are is dust in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;Everything is dust in the wind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115559216571724982?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115559216571724982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115559216571724982&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115559216571724982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115559216571724982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/dust-in-wind.html' title='.dust in the wind'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115449155983687272</id><published>2006-08-01T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T17:13:52.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Infected Mushroom - Live !!!! - Buenos Aires, Argentina 2006&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/eNZjATq0-tI"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/eNZjATq0-tI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;o hagan click en esto: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNZjATq0-tI &lt;br /&gt;Esto es algo q hace despertar a los 5 sentidos, sin duda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el mejor recital al q fui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;disfruten&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115449155983687272?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115449155983687272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115449155983687272&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115449155983687272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115449155983687272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/infected-mushroom-live-buenos-aires.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115448141984971795</id><published>2006-08-01T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T18:19:16.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. desde mi ego, con amor</title><content type='html'>adentro la carne, la sangre, la entereza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toda yo por dentro, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos, en cambio, me observás desde afuera.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115448141984971795?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115448141984971795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115448141984971795&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448141984971795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448141984971795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/desde-mi-ego-con-amor.html' title='. desde mi ego, con amor'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115448043766268899</id><published>2006-08-01T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T18:00:37.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.desconocido</title><content type='html'>me robaste esa parte mía q nunca tuve&lt;br /&gt;ni conoci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿me hubiera gustado?&lt;br /&gt;¿me habría hecho feliz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tanto vos como yo nos resignamos a ignorarlo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq mucho antes de darme cuenta, &lt;br /&gt;ya me habias robado los recuerdos de esa parte mia&lt;br /&gt;q siempre me quitaste de mi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115448043766268899?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115448043766268899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115448043766268899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448043766268899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448043766268899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/desconocido.html' title='.desconocido'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115448017126500713</id><published>2006-08-01T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T17:56:11.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.que sangres</title><content type='html'>quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq tengo la furia en los ojos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y el calor en la garganta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por las lagrimas orgullosas&lt;br /&gt;y los gritos algo más accesibles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq tengo la bronca en la sien&lt;br /&gt;y la respiración agitada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq tengo los ojos tristes&lt;br /&gt;y solo tu sangre derramada puede curarlos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq solo al verte sangrar se calmará mi angustia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de puro gusto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para no ser la unica herida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero q sangres&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115448017126500713?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115448017126500713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115448017126500713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448017126500713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115448017126500713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/que-sangres.html' title='.que sangres'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115447972027065907</id><published>2006-08-01T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T17:48:40.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. tu mérito</title><content type='html'>no c si es lo q buscabas lograr&lt;br /&gt;de mi&lt;br /&gt;de esto&lt;br /&gt;pero lo lograste:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora siento como nada de lo bello puede influenciarme, &lt;br /&gt;nada de lo bueno puede llegar a tocarme la piel,&lt;br /&gt;nada puede valer la pena &lt;br /&gt;ni salirme bien...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no c si era lo q buscabas,&lt;br /&gt;pero lo lograste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115447972027065907?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115447972027065907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115447972027065907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115447972027065907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115447972027065907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/08/tu-mrito.html' title='. tu mérito'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115415683591154660</id><published>2006-07-28T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T00:07:15.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.impar</title><content type='html'>las manos frías me afligen&lt;br /&gt;casi tanto como la constancia de los relojes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tortura&lt;br /&gt;tortura&lt;br /&gt;tortura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estética del número impar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;segundos paralizados&lt;br /&gt;(mi miedo a enfrentar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi miedo&lt;br /&gt;oscuro, febril y carbonatado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la cama ya no me invita a dormir,&lt;br /&gt;no me invita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tortura &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se olvida q me pertenece&lt;br /&gt;y no me invita a acompañarla&lt;br /&gt;no me invita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se transforma en parte&lt;br /&gt;de la imparidad a la q me acostumbro&lt;br /&gt;un número, &lt;br /&gt;uno,&lt;br /&gt;uno sólo: &lt;br /&gt;yo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115415683591154660?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115415683591154660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115415683591154660&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115415683591154660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115415683591154660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/07/impar.html' title='.impar'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115415492641779786</id><published>2006-07-28T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T23:35:26.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.habla de lo q sabes</title><content type='html'>no hables de los jardines, &lt;br /&gt;no hables de la luna, &lt;br /&gt;no hables de la rosa, &lt;br /&gt;no hables del mar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habla de lo que sabes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habla de lo que vibra en tu médula y hace luces y sombras en tu mirada,&lt;br /&gt;habla del dolor incesante de tus huesos,&lt;br /&gt;habla del vértigo, &lt;br /&gt;habla de tu respiración, &lt;br /&gt;de tu desolación, &lt;br /&gt;de tu traición. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es tan oscuro, &lt;br /&gt;tan en silencio el proceso a que me obligo. &lt;br /&gt;Oh habla del silencio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(fragmento de La Piedra de la Locura, Alejandra Pizarnik)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115415492641779786?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115415492641779786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115415492641779786&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115415492641779786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115415492641779786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/07/habla-de-lo-q-sabes.html' title='.habla de lo q sabes'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115277133228215047</id><published>2006-07-12T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T23:15:32.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.not so bad</title><content type='html'>zarpullido de penas,&lt;br /&gt;psicomatizar de más&lt;br /&gt;y nunca de menos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no me preguntes cómo estoy&lt;br /&gt;-preguntame, sigo acá-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;impresiones táctiles,&lt;br /&gt;llantos de alegría&lt;br /&gt;y no tanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no estoy más:&lt;br /&gt;me fui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vomitar angustias,&lt;br /&gt;ideas,&lt;br /&gt;psicomatizar siempre en esta piel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ya no más:&lt;br /&gt;pq nunca importó lo q querían estos ojos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y no preguntes cómo estoy&lt;br /&gt;-no estoy más-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;psicomatizar de más y nunca de menos&lt;br /&gt;no era relamente para mi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115277133228215047?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115277133228215047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115277133228215047&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115277133228215047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115277133228215047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/07/not-so-bad.html' title='.not so bad'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115215545887980508</id><published>2006-07-05T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T20:10:58.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>. paredes</title><content type='html'>nunca quise decirlo en voz alta, pq siempre pensé q con ello me ganaría un pasaje de ida hacia la locura: pero mis paredes tienen vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se mueven hacia mi, de a poco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;respiran de a ratos, y en cada inspiración se acercan mas entre ellas, se apretujan más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo sigo viviendo justo en el medio de la habitación, lejos de todas y cada una de ellas. lo más lejos q puedo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero cada día despierto sabiendo q la distancia se achica. q siempre estarán más cerca de mis bordes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lo tengo muy en claro: buscan aplastarme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(y creo q lo están logrando)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115215545887980508?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115215545887980508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115215545887980508&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115215545887980508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115215545887980508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/07/paredes.html' title='. paredes'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115145852021288807</id><published>2006-06-27T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T18:35:20.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>no hay lugar para frases hechas&lt;br /&gt;ni para adornos letrados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sentemonos a leer el vacio de mis palabras&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115145852021288807?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115145852021288807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115145852021288807&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115145852021288807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115145852021288807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/no-hay-lugar-para-frases-hechas-ni.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115084758792952162</id><published>2006-06-20T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T19:29:00.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.el dolor es mio</title><content type='html'>Por Eduardo Pavlovsky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay algo de maravilloso en el suicidio pienso... Qué sé yo es fácil decirlo un último gesto que queda en el más absoluto misterio el último pincelazo a veces me pasa tener un estado de demasiada conciencia de mí mismo... comienzo a preguntarme cada uno de los gestos que hago digo ahora me levanto y doy vueltas en círculo por el cuarto me detengo como sigo toco una pared a lo largo con las manos palpando rugosidades después pienso ah ya sé ahora me tiro en la cama y hago veinte flexiones me toco la frente la nariz salgo corriendo al baño orino lo intento cuando estoy orinando pienso qué viene después de la orina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo único que admiro es la intensidad de la desesperación el momento más sublime... me parece que la gente que veo hace gestos se mueve pero yo preveo el vacío ellos no parecen percibir el sinsentido y hasta parecen felices cómo se puede vivir así pienso no se dan cuenta de la inutilidad de los gestos pienso ese pobre hombre parado con su rodilla derecha doblada y el talón en la pared está silbando lo veo tocarse los genitales con disimulo y pienso qué irá a hacer ahora camina unos metros tres más exactamente abraza a otro hombre sin tener conciencia de la desesperación del momento a veces pienso que no saben que van a morir y se mueven espontáneamente cuando pienso en matarme en esos estados críticos pienso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pienso en matarme porque me parece siempre tendrá que inventar todos mis gestos en cada instante de mi vida es inaguantable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conozco una amiga que tiene una amiga que no puede leer porque tiene miedo al vacío entre las letras. Miedo a caerse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creo que sí –a caerse por el vacío de las letras– tiene miedo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terminó empleándose en una fiambrería cortaba salame de Milán con un cuchillo grueso le aliviaba sentir la densidad del salame cortado por un cuchillo grueso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un día el fiambrero le dijo que le iba a ser más fácil cortar el salame por rodajas en la máquina pero entonces el salame cortado en la máquina caía demasiado rápido –sentía que ella caía al vacío cada vez que la máquina cortaba las rodajas de salame–.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un día agarró el cuchillo y empezó a clavarlo en su pecho y gritaba “Éste es mi pecho, lo siento, éste es mi cuerpo concreto cuando me clavo el cuchillo. Mi cuerpo concreto mi dolor concreto.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo por eso me hice boxeador. Los golpes en la cara en el cuerpo me hacen sentir –éste es mi cuerpo me digo mi cuerpo duele– éste soy yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando pego también las manos duelen al pegar. Son mis manos. Las siento. El dolor es mío.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115084758792952162?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115084758792952162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115084758792952162&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115084758792952162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115084758792952162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/el-dolor-es-mio.html' title='.el dolor es mio'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-115062591874784074</id><published>2006-06-18T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T03:19:45.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>como es eso de quererte tanto...</title><content type='html'>... q duelen las horas en el reloj cuando no te tengo cerca?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-115062591874784074?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/115062591874784074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=115062591874784074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115062591874784074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/115062591874784074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/como-es-eso-de-quererte-tanto.html' title='como es eso de quererte tanto...'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114983801226582838</id><published>2006-06-09T00:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T14:47:00.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/montana_rusa_ch.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/montana_rusa_ch.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mis inconstancias están sostenidas por tus manos&lt;br /&gt;y solo ellas podrán desfigurarles las reminiscencias a montaña rusa q siempre se empeñaron en conservar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿tenías presente q solo mecida por tus palabras lloré sin penas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mis inconstancias están entre tus manos&lt;br /&gt;y nunca fueron tan inexistentes,&lt;br /&gt;nunca tan borroneadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿conocías la relación entre tus-ojos-en-mis-ojos y la felicidad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mis inconstancias están entre tus dedos,&lt;br /&gt;en tus bocetos,&lt;br /&gt;fuera de mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿sabías de un "gracias" tan inmenso q cubriera todo el mundo?&lt;br /&gt;¿entendías de un "te amo" tan grande q cobijara lo eterno?&lt;br /&gt;¿habías visto unos ojos tan felices?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114983801226582838?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114983801226582838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114983801226582838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114983801226582838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114983801226582838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/mis-inconstancias-estn-sostenidas-por.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114983393168916138</id><published>2006-06-08T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T23:18:51.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A primera vista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Verse y amarse fue una sola cosa. Ella tenía los colmillos largos y afilados. Él tenía la piel blanda y suave: estaban hechos el uno para el otro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Poli Délano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114983393168916138?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114983393168916138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114983393168916138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114983393168916138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114983393168916138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/primera-vista-verse-y-amarse-fue-una.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114939689891138749</id><published>2006-06-03T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T22:11:47.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Implosionar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/DSCN8460%20buen%20enfoque.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;siento q estaba en lo correcto,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero no quiero llorar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no quiero hacerme caso hoy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cuando siento la invisibilidad de este rostro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aun frente a mis propios ojos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero no puedo frenar el correr de la sangre hirviendo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ni el funcionar de mi cabeza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;siento q estaba en lo correcto,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y es como derrumbarse desde adentro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"a nadie le importa lo q hago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;si me quedo o si me voy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a nadie le importa lo q pienso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;y aunq lo intento, solo estoy...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a nadie dedico estas palabras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de nadie voy a despedirme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;bueno nadie, chau adios "&lt;br /&gt;-ricky espinosa-&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114939689891138749?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114939689891138749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114939689891138749&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114939689891138749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114939689891138749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/06/implosionarsiento-q-estaba-en-lo.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114623354086839085</id><published>2006-04-28T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T07:12:20.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Con Los Ojos Abiertos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/1137585818_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/1137585818_f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;lo q me das&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y lo q no&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cabe sencillamente en un bolsillo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o en un pasado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-el q elijas-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;la garganta seca y los ojos humedos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;caben en este cuerpo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;lo que te pido, en cambio,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eso es muy distinto... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eso cabe en algún futuro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero vos no tenés tiempos, ni de mi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ni de vos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y yo no tengo ganas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de romper relojes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de buscar paralelismos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de obligarte a que te quedes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;siempre de este lado de la puerta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y a veces me pregunto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;si acaso vos tampoco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114623354086839085?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114623354086839085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114623354086839085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114623354086839085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114623354086839085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/con-los-ojos-abiertos.html' title='Con Los Ojos Abiertos'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114550984287078969</id><published>2006-04-19T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T22:10:42.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ouf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 429px" height="427" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/ouf.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entender, entendés perfecto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero a mi no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y así es como funciona:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos me hacés la herida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo le pongo sal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le paso la lengua,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y me aguanto el dolor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-el otro dolor-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;después si hay incontinencia,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lloro descaradamente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos no...vos esperás hasta q no haya nadie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114550984287078969?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114550984287078969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114550984287078969&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114550984287078969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114550984287078969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/entender-entends-perfecto.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114534579213650195</id><published>2006-04-18T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T22:16:01.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no lo soporto&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;es un ser detestablemente insoportable este...&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;quiero alejarme, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quiero alejarme...&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;pero resulta q este ser soy yo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 390px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="161" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/sangre.jpg" width="401" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;-dejame soñar-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;-dejame gritar-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;-dejame saltar-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;-dejame ser-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114534579213650195?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114534579213650195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114534579213650195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114534579213650195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114534579213650195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/no-lo-soporto-es-un-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114534278000405822</id><published>2006-04-17T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T07:27:14.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>podría decirte tantas cosas hoy&lt;br /&gt;como q extraño reirme&lt;br /&gt;o q detesto las noches frías&lt;br /&gt;y q no este tu sobretodo para abrigarme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o q en estos días me deprime la lluvia&lt;br /&gt;y la gente en las veredas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;las sillas vacias,&lt;br /&gt;las sonrisas por compromiso,&lt;br /&gt;sentir al falta de endorfinas en la piel,&lt;br /&gt;en la mente,&lt;br /&gt;en cada idea q retumba en esta cabecita...y choca explosivamente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;detesto el color negro y a la vez lo amo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;detesto sentir la soledad en la nuca, en la sien, en la espalda y en las manos cuando en realidad estoy en un cuarto con gente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aborrezco saber q todo puede acabarse mañana&lt;br /&gt;-o q quizas no haya mañana-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me entristecen las hojas amarillas, los arboles de pie, y los derrotados...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi pared izquierda tambien me duele, cada vez q la veo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y las puertas....las puertas son particularmente ambiguas..pero la mayoria de las veces las odio, me dan ganas de llorar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;las ventanas me dan sensacion de encierro, y de inmensidad...&lt;br /&gt;y me dan vertigo...de ese vertigo del q no quiero hablar....&lt;br /&gt;me provoca el vomito pensar en cruzarlas..y tambien pensar en quedarme siempre de este lado....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;los espejos me dan panico&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;los azulejos me provocan frustracion de tan pequeños, de tan inutiles q son por si solos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la musica q escucho me hace llorar, y la q escuchas vos tmb...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el papel fotografico lastima las yemas de mis dedos, y mis retinas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;las paredes me dan sensación de limite...y las praderas de infinitud inexplicable....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no comprender el mundo me da jaquecas....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y comprenderlo me da nauseas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basicamente...presiento q no deberia estar aqui....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114534278000405822?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114534278000405822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114534278000405822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114534278000405822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114534278000405822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/podra-decirte-tantas-cosas-hoy-como-q.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114523785295392078</id><published>2006-04-16T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T18:50:05.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 136px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 376px" height="294" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/chris%20bytebier.jpg" width="296" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/chris%20bytebier.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 363px" height="296" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/chris%20bytebier.0.jpg" width="426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aquí&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;veo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;R&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114523785295392078?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114523785295392078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114523785295392078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523785295392078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523785295392078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/aqume-veoatrapada.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114523719143411287</id><published>2006-04-16T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T18:29:22.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/blue.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/blue.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hablamos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;de tripas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;de muerte,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;de sin aire,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;de las mías y las suyas, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;de nuestro dolor,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;callamos en los puntos suspensivos... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;hablamos con signos de admiración, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;nos retorcimos con los de pregunta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;rompimos venas, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;rompimos carne.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;no escuchamos,&lt;br /&gt;nos matamos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;y fuimos tripas,&lt;br /&gt;muerte,&lt;br /&gt;sin aire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114523719143411287?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114523719143411287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114523719143411287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523719143411287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523719143411287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/hablamos-de-tripasde-muertede-sin.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114523642619490719</id><published>2006-04-16T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T18:13:46.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;...fugada...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;momentanea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;atemporal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ruidosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;NOTORIA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;.adios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114523642619490719?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114523642619490719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114523642619490719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523642619490719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114523642619490719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114516879752169544</id><published>2006-04-15T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T23:26:37.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teoría Pura</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/mariposas%20alas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/mariposas%20alas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"las ideas son muy rapidas para ser captadas"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;debe ser por eso q uno a veces piensa Q PIENSA EN NADA&lt;br /&gt;no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero en realidad no es así&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;son tan rapidas q solo algunas son captadas relamente como si fueran canarios o mariposas a punto de ser cazadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por eso solo ves algunos colores&lt;br /&gt;solo parte de sus alas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/mariposas%20alas%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/mariposas%20alas%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es cuestion mas dicficil agarrar una idea por las alas&lt;br /&gt;y desentrañar todo lo q viene detras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o peor: agarrar solo un colorcito de sus alas&lt;br /&gt;y con eso reconstruir la mariposa completa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no quiero pensar demasido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mejor pasen al vuelo&lt;br /&gt;bien rapido por favor&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114516879752169544?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114516879752169544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114516879752169544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114516879752169544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114516879752169544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/teora-pura.html' title='Teoría Pura'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114516162048282863</id><published>2006-04-15T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T21:27:00.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ughkjmvbm,kljksilygvuhnjukhujijdrhyfjksgbvhjks</title><content type='html'>ughkjmvbm,kljksilygvuhnjukhujijdrhyfjksgbvhjks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esa es mi posicion al respecto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lo q quieras q diga, dicelo q querias ver, ves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como siermpre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;incluso si escirbo No en letras gigantesvas a leer q dice si timidamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q cosas vos, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114516162048282863?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114516162048282863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114516162048282863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114516162048282863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114516162048282863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/ughkjmvbmkljksilygvuhnjukhujijdrhyfjks.html' title='ughkjmvbm,kljksilygvuhnjukhujijdrhyfjksgbvhjks'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114481555650836479</id><published>2006-04-11T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T21:19:16.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/P2070375.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/P2070375.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/DSCN7999.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a veces noto mi falta de reflejo&lt;br /&gt;y el panico surge&lt;br /&gt;como si hubiese estado a la espera de mi crisis nerviosa&lt;br /&gt;como si fuera este grito sofocado,&lt;br /&gt;este ahogamiento de mis poros&lt;br /&gt;para q no sientas el estremecimiento de mi garganta&lt;br /&gt;y de mis extremidades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuando queiro escapar de este cuerpo&lt;br /&gt;q de a ratos no refleja nada&lt;br /&gt;y de a ratos refleja todo&lt;br /&gt;q inutil apariencia podría mostrarte?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no importa bien, ahora....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si ya me viste de este lado&lt;br /&gt;y del otro...&lt;br /&gt;viste mis invisibilidades e ignoraste mi tangiblidad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y todo por nada o por algo q no comprendí bien...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero si es como estar desnuda de alma entera frente a tus pupilas&lt;br /&gt;y tan solo preocuparme por si tu iris es mas grande q antes,&lt;br /&gt;o si tus ojos realmente em están mirando fijo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿te conté q estoy dejando de gritar ahora,&lt;br /&gt;cada vez q de imprevisto me descubro a mi misma como un ser inerte&lt;br /&gt;como algo inexistente&lt;br /&gt;q ni vale la pena ser visto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿te conté q ya no me espanto de mis semejanzas con la nada?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿te conté q aprendí a querer la soledad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿o acaso no te conté nada en absoluto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quizás sea eso de ser invisible, q ya afecto hasta mis palabras&lt;br /&gt;mis ideas&lt;br /&gt;y hasta eso q llamaban "sentir"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....eso quisiera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero la infinutd es demasiado grande&lt;br /&gt;demasido agobiante&lt;br /&gt;cuando solo me acompaño con mis ideas&lt;br /&gt;y este ser q a veces, a decir verdad, yo tampoco veo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114481555650836479?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114481555650836479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114481555650836479&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114481555650836479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114481555650836479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/veces-noto-mi-falta-de-reflejo-y-el.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114481335640048290</id><published>2006-04-11T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T20:42:36.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>si te digo q te detesto por las noches&lt;br /&gt;y q las lagrimas escapan igual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si te digo la verdad en la cara&lt;br /&gt;y te rehusas a escucharme...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entonces no puedo ayudarte&lt;br /&gt;no puedo ayudarme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se me hace imposible seguir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aun cuando querer es lo unico q me surge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y estoy tan lejos&lt;br /&gt;y estoy tan rota&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114481335640048290?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114481335640048290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114481335640048290&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114481335640048290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114481335640048290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/si-te-digo-q-te-detesto-por-las-noches.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114473322800509997</id><published>2006-04-10T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T22:27:12.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/alice%20agua.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/alice%20agua.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/alice%20agua.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;busco un escape,&lt;br /&gt;una suerte de vía paralela q me lleve lejos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero hasta ahora solo choco contra el espejo&lt;br /&gt;con la oportunidad de cruzar hacia ningun lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;siempre,&lt;br /&gt;a veces,&lt;br /&gt;es demasiado tiempo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114473322800509997?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114473322800509997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114473322800509997&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114473322800509997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114473322800509997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/busco-un-escape-una-suerte-de-va.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114439930121750017</id><published>2006-04-07T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T01:47:17.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/alicia%2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/alicia%2010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grito en el vacío,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero, por lo visto,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no logré el efecto deseado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y todo sigue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como antes de la primer palabra..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-tanta ingravidez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me está matando-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114439930121750017?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114439930121750017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114439930121750017&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114439930121750017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114439930121750017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/grito-en-el-vaco-pero-por-lo-visto-no.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114437226830953481</id><published>2006-04-06T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T18:11:08.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/1136228185_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/1136228185_f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te acordas cuando tenia los ojitos aun felices?&lt;br /&gt;o ya ni eso?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;yo me acuerdo de tu sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;de tus palabras&lt;br /&gt;de tu existencia&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;una pena concordar tan poco en el camino,&lt;br /&gt;vernos tan poco en los andenes de esta rutina eterna,&lt;br /&gt;cruzarnos apenas y saludarnos de reojo en las rutas frias de mi vida,&lt;br /&gt;y de la tuya&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;como puede divertirse el tiempo ante nuestros desencuentros&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;no c vos...pero yo ya ni me acuerdo de mis ojitos felices&lt;br /&gt;hace rato q estos son los unicos q poseo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114437226830953481?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114437226830953481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114437226830953481&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114437226830953481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114437226830953481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/te-acordas-cuando-tenia-los-ojitos-aun.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114410575929243729</id><published>2006-04-03T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T22:58:49.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ayuda para este alma&lt;br /&gt;q se rompe y destroza con mis propias manos&lt;br /&gt;y con las tuyas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayuda, pido de forma urgente,&lt;br /&gt;para este alma q ya no puede ni llorar&lt;br /&gt;de tanto q le escurriste las lagrimas&lt;br /&gt;en uno de tus tantos ataques obsesivo-compulsivos&lt;br /&gt;contra mi&lt;br /&gt;siempre contra mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y si me encierro,&lt;br /&gt;no grites desde el otro lado,&lt;br /&gt;es pq quiero aislarme de tus insoportables lamentos,&lt;br /&gt;es pq quiero alejarme de tus insostenibles argumentos,&lt;br /&gt;y dejarte ahí, lejos de mi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para q no me afecten&lt;br /&gt;tus insistencias hacia mi para q sea algo q no soy&lt;br /&gt;y q se aleja tanto del concepto de mi, como vos ahora,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para q no me afecten tus palabras arrojadas al aire&lt;br /&gt;como si realmente yo no estuviese acá,&lt;br /&gt;de este lado, escuchando lo q me decis en la cara,&lt;br /&gt;día a día,&lt;br /&gt;en esta convivencia tan tortuosa q tenemos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq ni cariño me queda ahora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aunq en algun momento sé q te quise&lt;br /&gt;ahora no quiero ni respirar el aire del mismo cuarto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aunq en algún momento sé q te quise&lt;br /&gt;(y estoy segura q habrá sido así,&lt;br /&gt;pq veo esas fotos en donde eramos compañeras de vida,&lt;br /&gt;y veo q te quería,&lt;br /&gt;y me supongo...&lt;br /&gt;pero, ¿como llegamos a esto?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no esperes verme en tu funeral&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114410575929243729?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114410575929243729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114410575929243729&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114410575929243729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114410575929243729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/ayuda-para-este-alma-q-se-rompe-y.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114410311347945466</id><published>2006-04-03T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T15:25:13.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious and fragile things...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/DSCN7966.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/DSCN7966.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Precious and fragile things&lt;br /&gt;Need special handling&lt;br /&gt;My God what have we done to You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always try to share&lt;br /&gt;The tenderest of care&lt;br /&gt;Now look what we have put You through...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things get damaged&lt;br /&gt;Things get broken&lt;br /&gt;I thought we'd manage&lt;br /&gt;But words left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Left us so brittle&lt;br /&gt;There was so little left to give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angels with silver wings&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't know suffering&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could take the pain for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God has a master plan&lt;br /&gt;That only He understands&lt;br /&gt;I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things get damaged&lt;br /&gt;Things get broken&lt;br /&gt;I thought we'd manage&lt;br /&gt;But words left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Left us so brittle&lt;br /&gt;There was so little left to give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray you learn to trust&lt;br /&gt;Have faith in both of us&lt;br /&gt;And keep room in your hearts for two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things get damaged&lt;br /&gt;Things get broken&lt;br /&gt;I thought we'd manage&lt;br /&gt;But words left unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Left us so brittle&lt;br /&gt;There was so little left to give&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114410311347945466?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114410311347945466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114410311347945466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114410311347945466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114410311347945466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/04/precious-and-fragile-things.html' title='Precious and fragile things...'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114374578675046011</id><published>2006-03-30T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T11:09:46.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>mi ideal, y mi imposible&lt;br /&gt;divididos en un mismo ser&lt;br /&gt;q expira y expira todo el aire q agotó de mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y si soy yo, ya no importa&lt;br /&gt;esquizofrenicamente me explica como debo alejarme&lt;br /&gt;y a la vez quedarme bien pegada a su piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despues da unos pasos y enfrenta esa puerta&lt;br /&gt;q de seguro nos alejará por compelto&lt;br /&gt;y sin emabargo, no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq prefiere estas muñecas, faciles de atrapar&lt;br /&gt;y estos ojos, deseosos de ser encontrados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y por eso vuelve, como volví yo,&lt;br /&gt;un ayer olvidado...&lt;br /&gt;quizás en busca de q le retenga la mirada&lt;br /&gt;quizas en busca de algo q lo haga reflexionar sobre la rapidez de un segundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o ni eso,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por eso es q se fragmenta otra vez,&lt;br /&gt;y se va por esa puerta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;puerta mental&lt;br /&gt;una suerte de escape visual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;espacio para respirar&lt;br /&gt;como si fueran los agujeritos de una caja de carton&lt;br /&gt;y adentro, el animal en cuestion, una pequeña ave,&lt;br /&gt;asfixiada,&lt;br /&gt;porque, claro,&lt;br /&gt;es eso lo q  le falta, aire,&lt;br /&gt;y vos desde afuera rompes más y más la caja para q respire libre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero no podes estar adentro y afuera&lt;br /&gt;a la vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y es por eso q  te fragmentas,&lt;br /&gt;y rompes esa caja de cartón&lt;br /&gt;y a la vez dejas de respirar&lt;br /&gt;aunq sea por un instante...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;volvé&lt;br /&gt;no me importa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo tambien me ahogo de a ratos&lt;br /&gt;y cada una de esas veces habras sentido lo q  yo ahora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;volvé a respirar como antes,&lt;br /&gt;no me importa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si queres te ayudo y destrozamos juntos esa caja de cartón&lt;br /&gt;pero vos volvé...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114374578675046011?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114374578675046011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114374578675046011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114374578675046011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114374578675046011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/03/mi-ideal-y-mi-imposible-divididos-en.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114337367799611688</id><published>2006-03-26T03:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T03:47:58.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>si asi es como lo ves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;solamente te pido algo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejame q te toque la piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejame q yo te pueda ver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te dire solo adios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no se cuanto hacía q no usaba bien...hace cuanto, hace tanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq no he de entender lo q  esta dicho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tengo mis ojos encima tuyo, y solo te dire "dejame q te pueda ver"&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es esa cancion q  sabes q ahora te retumba en la cabeza...&lt;br /&gt;si, si&lt;br /&gt;esa misma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114337367799611688?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114337367799611688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114337367799611688&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114337367799611688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114337367799611688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/03/si-asi-es-como-lo-ves-solamente-te.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-114337078485949013</id><published>2006-03-26T02:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T02:59:44.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>el stress del año 2000</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/cielo%20azul%20cielo%20negro%20-yo%20(9).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/cielo%20azul%20cielo%20negro%20-yo%20%289%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(darling, no digas nada, tengo la cabeza superoxidada)&lt;br /&gt;- andy chango &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-114337078485949013?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/114337078485949013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=114337078485949013&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114337078485949013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/114337078485949013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/03/el-stress-del-ao-2000.html' title='el stress del año 2000'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113835110189058822</id><published>2006-01-26T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T00:38:22.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/anee%20olofsson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/anee%20olofsson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plasmote en esa direccion&lt;br /&gt;era una mosca&lt;br /&gt;era una lgo&lt;br /&gt;y yo la seguia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no veias bien&lt;br /&gt;nadie veia&lt;br /&gt;-ni yo-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eran como ciegos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como ciegos gustosos de serlo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eso de cruzar calles a oscuras les gustaba&lt;br /&gt;disfrutaban el vertigo de no saberse parados sobre el cesped o el vacio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muy difusamente se vera entonecs la realidad -de a poco-&lt;br /&gt;como si saliesen de ese sueño&lt;br /&gt;y despertaran en un parque frio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mirá tus pies&lt;br /&gt;tan entumecidos q no entendes&lt;br /&gt;q no sabesa&lt;br /&gt;y dodne estas?&lt;br /&gt;tan frios q ya esta&lt;br /&gt;es una u gigante intermitente como la luz q te avisa&lt;br /&gt;q te vayas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muy mal&lt;br /&gt;muy muy mal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asi como te gusta q sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conflictuado&lt;br /&gt;conflictuada&lt;br /&gt;conflictuandonos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no importa en verdad&lt;br /&gt;pq ahora podes decir q divagas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q sos de papel&lt;br /&gt;o de madera&lt;br /&gt;o de los dos a la vez&lt;br /&gt;o el plastico toma forma de vos&lt;br /&gt;y yo no c si te escucho mas palsticoso o q&lt;br /&gt;pero sonas a radiofonia movil&lt;br /&gt;o no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no te escuchaste bien, eso es lo q pasa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lo q pasa es otra cosa&lt;br /&gt;decis&lt;br /&gt;vos sos la q se sumergio en plastico&lt;br /&gt;y ahora desde esa cajita de juguete me miras con ojos vidriosos&lt;br /&gt;con oidos tapados&lt;br /&gt;todo un eco insoportable&lt;br /&gt;el pelo enrrulado en las puntas de nena simaptica&lt;br /&gt;y la sonrisa pintada&lt;br /&gt;nunca se va a salir&lt;br /&gt;fijate bien...&lt;br /&gt;pero adentro sos solo vos&lt;br /&gt;una muñeca q dice mamá&lt;br /&gt;q sabe reir&lt;br /&gt;y dice te quiero&lt;br /&gt;pero adentro, mas adentro sos otra&lt;br /&gt;sos esa q desde lo profundo ruega salir&lt;br /&gt;ruega sentir otra vez la piel sin pegamentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en el fondo no sos mas q un alma solita q escucha ecos por las ncohes, cuando se apagan las luces&lt;br /&gt;y pìde q se apaguen los sonidos&lt;br /&gt;y se prendan las luces&lt;br /&gt;y se rompan los disfraces&lt;br /&gt;o no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113835110189058822?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113835110189058822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113835110189058822&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113835110189058822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113835110189058822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/plasmote-en-esa-direccion-era-una.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113787060139464660</id><published>2006-01-21T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T11:10:01.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hoy estoy mental&lt;br /&gt;pero esas mentalidades q te surgen desp de rebotar desmusada por la vida (?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esas cosas pasan muy de vez en cuando&lt;br /&gt;q sabes lo claro q es todo&lt;br /&gt;q reflexionas de mas, si es q existe tal cosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un alma sincera y graciosa alguna vez me dijo eso de q se podia llegar a la iluminacion girando sobre tu eje. yo creo q he llegado escuchando sonidos...sonidos armonicos y "disarmonicos" en su propia sintonia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoy estoy mental&lt;br /&gt;hoy estoy musical&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq es la musica la q me hace viajar y retumbar el cerebro de un lado al otro de mi craneo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, sres, no enloquecí..&lt;br /&gt;hoy quiero crear algo....quiero vovler a escribir y q me guste&lt;br /&gt;querio volver a tener mi musa, la q perdi en algun cajon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si alguien al vio, pido me ayude a recuperarla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es URGENTE pq no c hasta cuando la musica va a seguir sonando..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113787060139464660?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113787060139464660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113787060139464660&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113787060139464660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113787060139464660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/hoy-estoy-mental-pero-esas.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113769990562167464</id><published>2006-01-19T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T11:45:05.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Man and a Woman -u2-</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/Dibujo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/Dibujo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little sister don’t you worry about a thing today&lt;br /&gt;Take the heat from the sun&lt;br /&gt;Little sister&lt;br /&gt;I know that everything is not ok&lt;br /&gt;But you’re like honey on my tongue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True love never can be rent&lt;br /&gt;But only true love can keep beauty innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;Of losing love to find romance&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;No I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;‘Cos I could never understand&lt;br /&gt;The mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can run from love&lt;br /&gt;And if it’s really love it will find you&lt;br /&gt;Catch you by the heel&lt;br /&gt;But you can’t be numb for love&lt;br /&gt;The only pain is to feel nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;How can I hurt when I’m holding you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;Of losing love to find romance&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you’re the one, there’s no-one else&lt;br /&gt;You make me want to lose myself&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown eyed girl across the street&lt;br /&gt;On rue Saint Divine&lt;br /&gt;I thought this is the one for me&lt;br /&gt;But she was already mine&lt;br /&gt;You were already mine…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little sister&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been sleeping in the street again&lt;br /&gt;Like a stray dog&lt;br /&gt;Little sister&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been trying to feel complete again&lt;br /&gt;But you’re gone and so is God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soul needs beauty for a soul mate&lt;br /&gt;When the soul wants… the soul waits …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;On losing love to find romance&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For love and sex and faith and fear&lt;br /&gt;And all the things that keep us here&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I hurt when I’m holding you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113769990562167464?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113769990562167464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113769990562167464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113769990562167464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113769990562167464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/man-and-woman-u2.html' title='A Man and a Woman -u2-'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113765795189616362</id><published>2006-01-19T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T00:05:51.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>solo para q sepas........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SÍ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SÍ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SÍ&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;este ES un mensaje para vos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113765795189616362?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113765795189616362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113765795189616362&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113765795189616362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113765795189616362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/solo-para-q-sepas.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113757397766815089</id><published>2006-01-17T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T00:46:17.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/1136223814_f.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/1136223814_f.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;...eso pasa por soñar despierto con q la perfeccion caiga a tus pies algun dia de la semana, y te deje los relojes parados en el exacto minuto q aparece..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;[deberiamos aprender a cerrar los ojos para soñar...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;.........................................................................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Es el miedo de despertar al sueño lo que condena al insomne. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sí, que el sueño esté despierto es lo que permite soñar. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113757397766815089?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113757397766815089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113757397766815089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113757397766815089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113757397766815089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/blog-post_17.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113756369451271020</id><published>2006-01-17T21:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T21:57:50.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>no me rompas la mirada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no te acerques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no dirijas palabra alguna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejame en silencio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejame sola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no rompas la estaticidad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no cortes el aire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejame a mi conmigo misma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a veces me entiendo mejro con mi sombra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y con esa unica vocesita q me indaga desde mis sienes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mejor no te acerques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq esto puede terminar mal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113756369451271020?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113756369451271020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113756369451271020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113756369451271020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113756369451271020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/no-me-rompas-la-mirada-no-te-acerques.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113752634211205098</id><published>2006-01-17T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T11:32:27.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/Imagen%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/Imagen%20015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pequeñisima,&lt;br /&gt;infima,&lt;br /&gt;palida,&lt;br /&gt;distinta,&lt;br /&gt;fragil,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asqueada de cariños,&lt;br /&gt;sedada por demás,&lt;br /&gt;escapàndole a la vida,&lt;br /&gt;corriendo,&lt;br /&gt;sobreexigiendo cada musculo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pequeñisima,&lt;br /&gt;desarropada por las noches,&lt;br /&gt;ingenua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigue corriendo,&lt;br /&gt;todo alrededro suyo, verde.&lt;br /&gt;todo intermitente a sus ojos...&lt;br /&gt;todo demasiado fragmentado para sentir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;descocida por dentro...&lt;br /&gt;descocida muñeca de trapo,&lt;br /&gt;almita remendada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigue corriendo,&lt;br /&gt;corriendo oscurece tambien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;traicionada,&lt;br /&gt;ingenua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora extraña,&lt;br /&gt;ahora aprende a llorar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;solo vos la ves&lt;br /&gt;y sin embargo..es tan visible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es q nunca fui un secreto bien guardado...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113752634211205098?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113752634211205098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113752634211205098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113752634211205098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113752634211205098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/pequeisima-infima-palida-distinta.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113745124631987382</id><published>2006-01-16T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T14:40:46.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ciega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de tanto verte a los ojos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ciega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de tanto en tanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por querer huir de aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ciega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para crear así&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi propio mundo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113745124631987382?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113745124631987382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113745124631987382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113745124631987382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113745124631987382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/ciega-de-tanto-verte-los-ojos-ciega-de.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113729912274805217</id><published>2006-01-14T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T20:35:19.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/eye_home_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/eye_home_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayudála, ayudála&lt;br /&gt;dale&lt;br /&gt;ayudála!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esta sola&lt;br /&gt;esta rota&lt;br /&gt;ayudála, ayudála&lt;br /&gt;dale&lt;br /&gt;ayudála!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;redujo hombres al llanto&lt;br /&gt;rompio una montaña&lt;br /&gt;pero ahora está sola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayudála&lt;br /&gt;dale ayudála!&lt;br /&gt;q ahora esta sola&lt;br /&gt;y esta rota&lt;br /&gt;ayudála, dale!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q se rompió una pluma&lt;br /&gt;y no recicló sus neuronas...&lt;br /&gt;ahora está rota&lt;br /&gt;está sola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayudála&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mirala&lt;br /&gt;cuan frágil en verdad es...&lt;br /&gt;mira como sabe llorar tambien&lt;br /&gt;mira como puede sangrar tanto como vos&lt;br /&gt;o mas....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayudála a q no dé ese paso&lt;br /&gt;y se quede de este lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dale ayudála&lt;br /&gt;ahora q la sangre hierve&lt;br /&gt;retenela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tiempo atrás lo salpicabas todo con tu encanto,&lt;br /&gt;te he visto reducir hombres al llanto&lt;br /&gt;y a la fortuna despreciar.&lt;br /&gt;Hoy rayas el mediodía casi desconocida,&lt;br /&gt;sos un flamenco con el ala herida,&lt;br /&gt;con la interperie te arropas...&lt;br /&gt;como yegua derramaba su esplendor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eramos salvajes,&lt;br /&gt;sin frenos en el amor y en la misma fantasía,&lt;br /&gt;se fundía y se reia de los dos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algunas noches soy fácil, no acato límites&lt;br /&gt;Hoy, quizás la sutileza me guardo un rescate,&lt;br /&gt;me fui avivando en otro par de escapes,&lt;br /&gt;me vine sabio en boicotear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con el tiempo fui aprendiendo a ser robot,&lt;br /&gt;era progamable en cuestiones del amor...&lt;br /&gt;y en la misma fantasía,&lt;br /&gt;me fundía y se reia de los dos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perdido estoy, perdido estoy&lt;br /&gt;perdido estoy, todos saben quien soy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-babasonicos-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113729912274805217?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113729912274805217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113729912274805217&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113729912274805217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113729912274805217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/ayudla-ayudla-dale-ayudla-esta-sola.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113721863842940653</id><published>2006-01-13T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T22:03:58.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/eye.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;se podria decir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;q tomé prestados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;desde algun día &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hasta para siempre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;los pedacitos de vida q compartimos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;me robé los fragmentos de sueños q cumplimos, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;los segundos q consumimos de a dos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y los escondí del resto,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;bajo mi piel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aunque quieras &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no podrás volver a verlos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no podrán volver a tus retinas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ni tus manos sentirán la textura de sus ayeres&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;otra vez más&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nada puede evitarlo ya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;me apropié hasta de tus colores&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mientras no mirabas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sin intenciones de devolucion a largo plazo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;perdón por eso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero así soy más feliz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113721863842940653?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113721863842940653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113721863842940653&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113721863842940653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113721863842940653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/se-podria-decirq-tom-prestadosdesde.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113713051381265006</id><published>2006-01-12T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T21:45:06.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>(.·´&lt;br /&gt;( No es lo mismo ya,&lt;br /&gt;`·.¸ eso de conformarse con los restos del amanecer...&lt;br /&gt;¸.·)´&lt;br /&gt;(.·´ sabias bien que querias el sol y todos sus rayos&lt;br /&gt;`*.* para guardarlos en el bolsillo, bien escondidos,&lt;br /&gt;.·) hasta que se apaguen todas las velas,&lt;br /&gt;(.·´ y todos los ojos esten bien cerrados....&lt;br /&gt;( y ser entonces, el único observador&lt;br /&gt;`·.¸ de tu maravillosa pertenencia robada, secuestrada,&lt;br /&gt;¸.·)´ condenada a ver solo el vacio de su escondite solitario...&lt;br /&gt;(.·´ condenada a brillar solo ante tus ojos,&lt;br /&gt;`*.*´¨) solo para hacerte sonreir una vez más, una unica vez más...&lt;br /&gt;¸.·´¸.·*´¨) y permitirte reir nuevamente, con tu risa perversa&lt;br /&gt;(¸.·´¸.·`¨mientras ella explota no dos, no tres,&lt;br /&gt;¸.· ´¸.·*´¨) sino mil veces por segundo&lt;br /&gt;(¸.·´¸.·*´¨¸.·*¨) gastandose su luz &lt;br /&gt;. ¸.· ¸.·*´¨¸.·*´con el unico proposito de hacerte feliz...&lt;br /&gt;(¸.·*   (*´¨  aunque eso le signifique apagarse lentamente &lt;br /&gt;                   -y aunque no lo notes-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113713051381265006?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113713051381265006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113713051381265006&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113713051381265006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113713051381265006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2006/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113607296159715323</id><published>2005-12-31T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T15:49:21.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;se acaba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;se acaba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;se acaba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero en verdad no...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;(sabemos q recien empieza)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;-look closer-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113607296159715323?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113607296159715323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113607296159715323&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113607296159715323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113607296159715323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/se-acabase-acabase-acaba-pero-en.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113590535950394975</id><published>2005-12-29T17:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T17:48:03.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ojos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/ojos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ansias de verte&lt;br /&gt;y sentir la comodidad otra vez&lt;br /&gt;cuando toques mis labios,&lt;br /&gt;cuando beses mi frente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ansias de tenerte de frente&lt;br /&gt;y q con una sola mirada&lt;br /&gt;notes lo q quiero decirte&lt;br /&gt;otra vez...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y q descubras este secreto a voces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pq no es ninguna novedad eso de quererte...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113590535950394975?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113590535950394975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113590535950394975&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113590535950394975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113590535950394975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/ansias-de-verte-y-sentir-la-comodidad.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113574044845011255</id><published>2005-12-27T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T19:27:28.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>incongruencia en las palabras&lt;br /&gt;cuando se está aferrada a la coteideanidad&lt;br /&gt;con los dientes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rasgando medias, rasgando pieles&lt;br /&gt;un dedo masticado y una herida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muy profundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y demasiada sangre&lt;br /&gt;goteando hacia el suelo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cartas rotas amarillentas&lt;br /&gt;y ajadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;una busqueda eterna&lt;br /&gt;de aquello q buscamos ya sin ganas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;desde hace rato...&lt;br /&gt;ahora es tiempo de una segunda oportunidad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113574044845011255?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113574044845011255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113574044845011255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113574044845011255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113574044845011255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/incongruencia-en-las-palabras-cuando.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113573855302776253</id><published>2005-12-27T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T18:55:53.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/DSCN6752.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/DSCN6752.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're The Real Thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're Even Better Than The Real Thing..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113573855302776253?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113573855302776253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113573855302776253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113573855302776253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113573855302776253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/youre-real-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113484216459817128</id><published>2005-12-17T08:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T09:56:04.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/broken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/400/broken.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caminando&lt;br /&gt;siempre hacia adelante&lt;br /&gt;ni siquiera daré la vuleta para ver los destrozos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113484216459817128?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113484216459817128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113484216459817128&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113484216459817128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113484216459817128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/caminando-siempre-hacia-adelante-ni.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113453885108170705</id><published>2005-12-13T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T22:00:05.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/nena%20sin%20arbol.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/nena%20sin%20arbol.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;la nena sin arbol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;revuelve y revuelve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;revuelve bajo la luz de ese farol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;su carita sucia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;su melancolia por dias mejores&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;revuelve y revuelve &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;bajo la penumbra de la noche&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;puede darse el lujo de mirar por las ventanas de reojo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y ver las luces felices , pero ajenas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;revuelve y revuleve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;bajo la luz de ese farol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y sueña con encontrar tesoros&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;roñosos tesoros olvidados por alguien&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;revuelve y revuelve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;en busca de esa infancia q le robaron&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;esa infancia q no tuvo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;es muy tarde para estar afuera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero ella sigue en busca de quien sabe que,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a la luz de ese farol,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sin animarse a pisar el cordon de la calle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;algo tiene&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;algo encuentra de tanto revolver y revolver&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;su carita sucia se limpia con las lagrimas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;se lava, se acaricia de dolor propio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de dolor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;la nena sin arbol quiere &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sonreir y no sabe como&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;olvido como era eso de ser feliz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;alguien la ve desde lejos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;la reconoce&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ve su pena&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ve su alma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;reconoce sus ansias de jugar, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de pertenecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;alguien la ve desde lejos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a la nena sin arbol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;q sueña con estrellas fugaces y poder pedir un deseo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;alguien recuerda la infancia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mirando desde lejos como la nena sin arbol revuelve y revuelve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y sigue revolviendo en busca de un regalo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de un tesoro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;ya es muy tarde&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y la nena ya no está bajo la luz de ese farol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no me animo a decir si fui yo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quien la vio desde lejos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;verter esa lagrima que le lavo la mejilla sucia de vivir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y sintió ahogarse en llanto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;no me animo a decir si fui yo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quien sintio verguenza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de llorar más q la nena sin arbol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113453885108170705?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113453885108170705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113453885108170705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113453885108170705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113453885108170705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/la-nena-sin-arbolrevuelve-y-revuelve.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113442606657014022</id><published>2005-12-12T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T14:21:06.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>En la Nada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/para%20nicolas%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/para%20nicolas%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Flema&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un arco iris se desangra&lt;br /&gt;Veo a la muerte sonreir&lt;br /&gt;Mientras el sueño se mete en mi piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me derrumbo&lt;br /&gt;Me estoy llendo a ningun lugar&lt;br /&gt;Solo caigo...&lt;br /&gt;Me estoy llendo a ningun lugar&lt;br /&gt;Solo caigo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recostado en las sombras&lt;br /&gt;Quizás por no molestar&lt;br /&gt;Miro al cielo antes de partir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me derrumbo&lt;br /&gt;Me estoy llendo a ningun lugar&lt;br /&gt;Solo caigo...&lt;br /&gt;Me estoy llendo a ningun lugar&lt;br /&gt;Solo caigo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113442606657014022?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113442606657014022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113442606657014022&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113442606657014022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113442606657014022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/en-la-nada.html' title='En la Nada'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113409435984010075</id><published>2005-12-08T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T18:12:39.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lucesitas de colores&lt;br /&gt;apagandose en cada instante&lt;br /&gt;en todos lados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo soy el cortocircuito q las hace estallar&lt;br /&gt;yo soy el derrumbamiento de los arboles de pie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la noche esta demasiado silenciosa como para  este colapso&lt;br /&gt;nadie me va a escuchar cuando decida estallar&lt;br /&gt;y los moños y ribetes salten por los aires&lt;br /&gt;cantandote villancicos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soy el cortocircuito q pondrá en penumbras esta noche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"mas trsite q todos los arbolitos de navidad muertos"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113409435984010075?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113409435984010075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113409435984010075&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113409435984010075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113409435984010075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/12/lucesitas-de-colores-apagandose-en.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113282132222083904</id><published>2005-11-24T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T00:35:22.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>amanece&lt;br /&gt;y todavia no decido&lt;br /&gt;si abrir o cerrar estos ojitos mios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amanece y sigo despierta&lt;br /&gt;pero no del todo&lt;br /&gt;ni demasiado,&lt;br /&gt;ni apenas un poquito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amanece&lt;br /&gt;e intento no reposar estos huesos&lt;br /&gt;pq se q no podria levantarme otra vez&lt;br /&gt;si es q amanece...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113282132222083904?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113282132222083904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113282132222083904&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113282132222083904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113282132222083904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/amanece-y-todavia-no-decido-si-abrir-o.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113281021085137444</id><published>2005-11-23T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T21:30:10.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/rosa%20negra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/rosa%20negra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suelo sentir la lejania,&lt;br /&gt;aun cuando no esta presente entre dos.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;suelo verla acercarse lento...&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;pero ya no más entre estos dos.&lt;br /&gt;ya no más vacios.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;a seis pasos del precipicio, digamos, se ve todo muy distinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113281021085137444?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113281021085137444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113281021085137444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113281021085137444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113281021085137444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/suelo-sentir-la-lejania-aun-cuando-no.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113246396085121117</id><published>2005-11-19T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T21:28:11.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ojo%20celeste.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/ojo%20celeste.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido del viento, de las casas golpenadose unas con otras,&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido de la locura organizada,&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido de cada pedido que se ha hecho de rodillas,&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido de las noches de verano entre las sabanas,&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido de las madrugadas cantadas desde un arbol,&lt;br /&gt;en el ruido de las caricias de esta piel,&lt;br /&gt;y en el de las lagrimas de este rostro,&lt;br /&gt;estoy, digamos, demasiado presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quizas por eso, hoy quiero perderme. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113246396085121117?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113246396085121117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113246396085121117&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113246396085121117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113246396085121117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/en-el-ruido-del-viento-de-las-casas.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113246106887978110</id><published>2005-11-19T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T20:31:08.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/tablero.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/tablero.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dejamos de ser duendes, pero está bien.&lt;br /&gt;siempre y cuando no nos olvidemos de q existen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;permanezcamos lejos del relampago, y a resguardo de la lluvia..&lt;br /&gt;encontremos el sol en las mejillas, y escondamoslo bien en un bolsillo del sobretodo gris.&lt;br /&gt;eso es absolutamente todo lo q necesitamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eso y correr bajo los tilos en mediodia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113246106887978110?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113246106887978110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113246106887978110&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113246106887978110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113246106887978110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/dejamos-de-ser-duendes-pero-est-bien.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113235922571398401</id><published>2005-11-18T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T16:13:45.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/DSCN6159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/DSCN6159.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;no será la nada...será algo intermedio entre estar y no estar..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;vos vas a decidir estar..y lo c &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;yo voy a decidir querer&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;decidamos quedarnos en el nosotros y permitamos q viva por siempre muy dentro de la cajita mental de los recuerdos, adentro del concepto de nuestras almas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;sigamos siendo, lo pido por favor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;sigamos siendo, aun cuando la cotideanidad se nos muera&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;sigamos siendo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;se los quiere mucho chicos, se los adora, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;hermosos 5 años,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;un gustazo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113235922571398401?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113235922571398401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113235922571398401&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113235922571398401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113235922571398401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/no-ser-la-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113219608466586443</id><published>2005-11-16T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T18:54:44.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nena no me llores,&lt;br /&gt;nena me estas llorando&lt;br /&gt;hoy&lt;br /&gt;nena no me llores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo no ando en busca de perdones,&lt;br /&gt;nena, no me llores,&lt;br /&gt;nena q me estas llorando&lt;br /&gt;hoy&lt;br /&gt;nena, no me llores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ni por las nubes grises,&lt;br /&gt;ni por las paredes negras,&lt;br /&gt;vos mejor, nena,&lt;br /&gt;no me llores&lt;br /&gt;hoy&lt;br /&gt;nena, q me estas llorando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113219608466586443?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113219608466586443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113219608466586443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113219608466586443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113219608466586443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/nena-no-me-llores-nena-me-estas.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113212304384651884</id><published>2005-11-15T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:37:23.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/nena%20anime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/nena%20anime.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bajo un yunke marca acme,&lt;br /&gt;yace el cuerpo de una niña,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la que reia con ganas,&lt;br /&gt;la que lloraba con pasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se creyó invencible y se paró debajo,&lt;br /&gt;esperando soportar la carga...&lt;br /&gt;esperando sobrevivir al golpe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no sabia de su humanidad :&lt;br /&gt;se mintió con fantasias coloreadas en crayones violetas,&lt;br /&gt;se mintió con muñecas despeinadas y voces rotas.&lt;br /&gt;se mintió con un castillo de arena,&lt;br /&gt;y se creó un principe de mazapán.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se mintió.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agobiada como estaba,&lt;br /&gt;de tener un unico color,&lt;br /&gt;una muñeca afligida,&lt;br /&gt;granitos de arena bajo las uñas,&lt;br /&gt;y apenas pocas voces retumbando en su cabeza&lt;br /&gt;quiso probar que era mentira todo lo que se construyó...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el unico crayon sangró violeta cuando se murió, y hasta las muñecqas quedaron palidas al verle un pie descalzo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero las voces nunca llegaron&lt;br /&gt;a retumbar fuerte en su cabeza...&lt;br /&gt;las voces nunca llegaron...&lt;br /&gt;y nadie leyó la carta escrita&lt;br /&gt;con un crayon violeta,&lt;br /&gt;que se aplastó en su mano,&lt;br /&gt;cuando se aplastó con ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113212304384651884?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113212304384651884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113212304384651884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113212304384651884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113212304384651884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/bajo-un-yunke-marca-acme-yace-el.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113195047552450476</id><published>2005-11-13T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T21:51:19.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/foto%20azul.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/flashero.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/flashero.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si me entendiste, por algo fue...&lt;br /&gt;quien sabe si es culpa de mis pies por caminar lento, o tal vez demasiado rapido...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero me entendiste, cuando frené.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me habias enseñado a no correr con tijeras. peligoroso. evita lo peligros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sin embargo... me resulta tan divertido, como el azul de este cielo raso q se desfigura para mi deleite. divertido como los agujeritos de mi persiana q saltan enloquecidos una danza dedicada a mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me entendiste cuando frené...y la tijera salio despedida. una marcha ceremonial en su honor. despedida por entre mis manos, despedida por mis manos, no vuelvas, no te quiero, despedida por este lugar, no vuelvas, no queres volver, no te queremos acá...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despedida...y se clavo en el parquet. como si fuera una estaca...y le suelo queria retorcerse y llorar del dolor...el suelo queria sangrar su muerte...pero la tijera ininmutable se quedó ahí..quieta....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos la miraste, yo la miré. no c si entendimos bien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;podrias haber sido vos ..podria haber sido yo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;podrian haber sido estas venas....pero no lo fueron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te diste cuenta q lo pensé, y fue tan vivido, pero no querias dejarme seguir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mis ojos te dijeron bien a dodne iba. no querias dejarme seguir. preferias seguirme, y empezamos el trote, la escapada, la huida veloz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la puerta fue el destino, alejarse lo maximo posible de ese suelo asesinado, de ese suelo sangrante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en el marco de la puerta nos atascamos como en todo. siempre relegandome a lo sin importancia, siempre pisando tus talones. pero no esta vez. esta vez yo sería más fuerte. esta vez yo iba a poder más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;miré bien y en la puerta estaba sola. nada q indique tu presencia me imepdia pasar, nada que indique tu presencia me atascaba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tome el picaporte con decision y antes de dar un portazo ruidoso para abandonar ese cuarto, apenas un segmento de la casa entera, observe con atencion y solo pude ver la tijera contra el parquet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;solo eso pude observar del todo q me rodeaba. solo la tijera clavada en la madera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y el suelo desangrandose a mas no poder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero mirando mejor no....no era eso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mirando mejor, ahora q no estaba atascada...vi que eras vos quien sangraba y no el suelo..eras vos quien gemia por el martirio de verse atascado, culpa de esa tijera, que clavada en el piso, retenia tu carne en ese sitio, y la desgarraba en cada movimiento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;era esa sangre la que te fluia de a poco y te mataba más rapido. era esa tijera la que te asesinaba pacientemente, aunque vos estuvieras tan movedizo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fue ella quien te atascó en tu camino y no podias escurrirtele. doloroso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muy doloroso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mire unos segundos hasta ver como, afirmativamente, la piel se desgarraba y y el grito no se hacia esperar. no lo soporté, pero sabía q de alguna forma te lo habias merecido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la tijera nunca se movio de su sitio, bien sujeto al suelo, sosteniendote por la carne, totalmente ensangrentada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le agradeci no tenerte a mi lado reteniendome en cada salida a lo distinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le agradeci, di media vuelta y disfruté de ese sonoro portazo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113195047552450476?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113195047552450476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113195047552450476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113195047552450476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113195047552450476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/si-me-entendiste-por-algo-fue.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113191929083689448</id><published>2005-11-13T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T14:01:30.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nunca te paso, acaso...?</title><content type='html'>nunca te pasó, acaso, que la locura se sinte en tu falda, vestida de bufon multicolor? y con esa cara de niña te pide q estrelles las ideas sanas contra el vitreaux del living?&lt;br /&gt;acaso nunca te paso que el bufon psicodelico te ataque por al espalda, mientras vos te hundis en un colchon pintado de verde?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;destruir es crear algo nuevo. decis al tiempo q te das cuenta q afirmabas algo. afirmacion verdadera. verdad de esas para comer con zanahoria y limon. pero te das cuenta que te van a perseguir por subversiva -es q te habias olvidado de que estaba prohibido afirmar verdades y de que las zanahorias eran consideradas terroristas-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora te queda correr por una autopista  infinita, mientras q el bufon te persigue pidiendote q le comas los codos y le condimentes las lagrimas con sal y azucar. acaso nucna te paso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;los vidrios rotos del vitreaux caen con un chisporriante sonido, y la lluvia ahora es de colores, son los cristales del living. vos corré, vos corré q te alcanzan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el bufon te susurra al oido, y vos sabes q no es mas q la locura, pero intenta, sin existo, no caerse de tu falda, en donde esta sentada, y vos seguis corriendo. tarde o temprano se va a caer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahi te ves, de repente frenas...la gente te empeiza a rodear...mira como te rodean, fijate como te rodean....y estas rodeada, arrodillada en el asfalto,en medio de toda esa gente...y entre ellos el bufon multicolor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fijate como te mira, fiajte en sus ojos....fiajte en el reflejod e sus pupilas, ahi te evs, estas vos, en el suelo, con las manos manchadas...eso es rojo, eso es rojo, fijate como te incriminan. "subversiva" fijate como susurran "subversiva" mira como se  dan cuanta q tenes en el bolsillo la zanahoria riendose de ellos..fijate como encuentran las verdades q afirmas..fiajte como condenan..solo porq no sos coimo ellos..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fiajte como no entienden la felicidad..fiajte como condenan todo lo q no es mediocre como ellos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el bufon multicolor te sigue mirando fijo, q corras te dice, q sigas corriendo por al autopista infinita bajo la lluvia kaleidoscopica de los cristales del vitreaux del living q rompiste con las ideas sanas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;q sigas corriendo...q sigas corriendo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca te paso, acaso...que te traigan hacia la mediocridad con un reloj despertador gigante  q arrastra segundos interminables? q te taladra la cabeza con esponjosidad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca te paso, acaso...que el  despertador gigante te rompa un segundero en la frente?y la sangre te lleve otra vez a la autopista infinita, bajo la lluvia de cristales?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca te paso, acaso,....que en la desesperacion el bufon multicolor te agarre de la mano y salgan corriendo en direcciones contrarias? y que la gente q te apuntaba con el dedo "tiene zanahorias y verdades" se pierdan entre los metros y los pies q corren?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca te pasó, acaso...que el despertador estalle en miels de fragmentos y vos sigas corriendo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eran sabias verdades, no eras un criminal..solo mataste la mediocridad en vos....ellos no lo entienden..por eso señalaban , por eso condenaban.... "subversiva" por eso condenaban "tiene zanahorias y verdades"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la locura vestida de bufon multicolor te dio la mano, noto q aun tenias cerebro...eso lo prohibieron hace tiempo, sabes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora por eso, te van a seguir condenando, persiguiendo......."uhm....zanahorias, verdades Y CEREBRO?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"subversiva" "subversiva"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos seguis riendo, seguis viviendo, seguis....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nunca te pasó, acaso...que la mediocridad no te alcance , aunq lo intente?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entonces, felicitaciones...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vos segui corriendo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el despertador va a estallar en breve...q el segundero no se estrelle en tu sien...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(vos seguí durmiendo, q tenes razon...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113191929083689448?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113191929083689448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113191929083689448&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113191929083689448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113191929083689448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/11/nunca-te-paso-acaso.html' title='nunca te paso, acaso...?'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113039035450742997</id><published>2005-10-26T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T22:19:14.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ojos%20azul%20caja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/ojos%20azul%20caja.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113039035450742997?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113039035450742997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113039035450742997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113039035450742997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113039035450742997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post_26.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113038742400018406</id><published>2005-10-26T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T21:30:24.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;busco ese dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;entre los papelitos de mi mente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;en el q eramos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y nada mas q eso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hoy tenemos mucho sobrante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;y mucho ahogamiento entre segunderos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quizas empujando a las agujas para atras &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;liberemos mentes, liberemos trabas, liberemos seres.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113038742400018406?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113038742400018406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113038742400018406&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113038742400018406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113038742400018406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/busco-ese-diaentre-los-papelitos-de-mi.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113021203963397715</id><published>2005-10-24T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T20:47:19.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/suicidio%20pies1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/suicidio%20pies1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la ciclotimia del nosotros&lt;br /&gt;rompiendo cada linea recta del camino,&lt;br /&gt;revolviendolo todo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y estar harta no basta&lt;br /&gt;para terminarlo así,&lt;br /&gt;para alejar las lineas curvas en cada idea&lt;br /&gt;en cada recuerdo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;transgiversar hasta lo imposible&lt;br /&gt;y caer en ondas irregulares sobre la almohada&lt;br /&gt;me hace mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tanto mal.&lt;br /&gt;no tenes idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta de sinusoides,&lt;br /&gt;basta de ciclotimia,&lt;br /&gt;basta de juegos de niños y de montañas rusas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta,&lt;br /&gt;pq me asquié,&lt;br /&gt;y vomitar verdades ya no funciona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113021203963397715?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113021203963397715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113021203963397715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113021203963397715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113021203963397715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/la-ciclotimia-del-nosotros-rompiendo.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113012921645383886</id><published>2005-10-23T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T21:46:56.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/paranormal%20echoes2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/paranormal%20echoes2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso el antes a mi locura,&lt;br /&gt;el pasado del dolor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabiamos como era eso...&lt;br /&gt;Ahora solo conocemos la manera de caer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exitosos tropezones,&lt;br /&gt;roturas de craneo perfectas.&lt;br /&gt;Felicitaciones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113012921645383886?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113012921645383886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113012921645383886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113012921645383886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113012921645383886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/preciso-el-antes-mi-locura-el-pasado.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-113002507146742547</id><published>2005-10-22T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T17:01:48.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/pared%20persona%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/pared%20persona%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naturalmente,&lt;br /&gt;despues de ti, la pared...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no me faltes nunca...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-113002507146742547?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/113002507146742547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=113002507146742547&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113002507146742547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/113002507146742547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/naturalmente-despues-de-ti-la-pared.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112978217279148315</id><published>2005-10-19T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T21:22:52.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/LUCES%20VIVAS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/LUCES%20VIVAS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112978217279148315?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112978217279148315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112978217279148315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112978217279148315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112978217279148315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112977779291226407</id><published>2005-10-19T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T20:09:52.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Go Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cold and frosty morning,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There’s not a lot to say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;About the things caught in my mind,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And as the day was dawning,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My plane flew away,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With all the things caught in my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don’t wanna be there when you’re…coming down,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don’t wanna be there when you hit the ground,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So don’t go away,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Say what you say,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Say that you’ll stay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Forever and a day,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In the time of my life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cos I need more time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yes I need more time just to make things right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Damn my situation and the games I have to play,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With all the things caught in my mind,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Damn my education &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can’t find the words to say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With all the things caught in my mind,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don’t wanna be there when you're... coming down,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don’t wanna be there when you hit the ground,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So don’t go away,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say what you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say that you’ll stay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forever and a day,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the time of my life,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cos I need more time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes I need more time just to make things right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me and you what’s going on?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All we seem to know is how to show,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The feelings that are wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So don’t go away,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say what you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say that you’ll stay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forever and a day,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the time of my life,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cos I need more time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes &lt;strong&gt;I need more time just to make things right&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And don’t go away,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say what you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Say that you’ll stay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forever and a day,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the time of my life,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cos I need more time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes I need more time just to make things right,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes I need more time just to make things right,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes &lt;strong&gt;I need more time just to make things right,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So don’t go away.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112977779291226407?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112977779291226407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112977779291226407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112977779291226407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112977779291226407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/dont-go-away.html' title='Don&apos;t Go Away'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112977715301818357</id><published>2005-10-19T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T20:14:43.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...slide away...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Slide away - and give it all you've got&lt;br /&gt;My today - fell in from the top&lt;br /&gt;I dream of you - and all the things you say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder where you are now? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Hold me down - all the world's asleep&lt;br /&gt;I need you now - you knock me off my feet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of you - and the thought of growing old&lt;br /&gt;But you said please don't... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Slide in baby together we'll fly&lt;br /&gt;I've tried praying but I dont know what you're saying to me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Now that you're mine&lt;br /&gt;We'll find a way&lt;br /&gt;Of chasing the sun&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the one who shines with you&lt;br /&gt;In the morning we don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Two of a kind&lt;br /&gt;We'll find a way&lt;br /&gt;To do what we've done&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the one who shines with you&lt;br /&gt;And we can slide away&lt;br /&gt;Slide away&lt;br /&gt;Slide away&lt;br /&gt;Away&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let me be the one who shines with you&lt;br /&gt;And we can slide away&lt;br /&gt;Slide away.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112977715301818357?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112977715301818357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112977715301818357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112977715301818357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112977715301818357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/slide-away.html' title='...slide away...'/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112969433089344315</id><published>2005-10-18T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T20:58:50.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fin de una etapa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perdon por cada error&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fue hermoso mientars duro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora no queda mas q cerrar los ojos bien fuerte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te quise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perdoname&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no me queda decir mas q adios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adios...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112969433089344315?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112969433089344315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112969433089344315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112969433089344315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112969433089344315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/fin-de-una-etapa-perdon-por-cada-error.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112922707597658976</id><published>2005-10-13T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T11:11:15.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>si es cierto&lt;br /&gt;q no puedo ni conmigo&lt;br /&gt;por las noches&lt;br /&gt;cuando se me escapa el alma,&lt;br /&gt;cuando pierdo la razon,&lt;br /&gt;en los dias&lt;br /&gt;en q me voy de mi,&lt;br /&gt;y de este lugar,&lt;br /&gt;y escapo lejos,&lt;br /&gt;muy lejos...&lt;br /&gt;¿como podria contigo?&lt;br /&gt;¿como te sostendria constante?&lt;br /&gt;¿como dejaria este yo q te hace doler muy profundamnete?&lt;br /&gt;¿como haria para evitar q te caigas, cada dia y cada noche?&lt;br /&gt;¿como te miraria a los ojos?&lt;br /&gt;¿como te pediria perdon despues de cada herida?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si no puedo ni conmigo,&lt;br /&gt;ni con mi alma,&lt;br /&gt;ni con este rostro q me mira&lt;br /&gt;desde el otro aldo del espejo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿como te haria feliz a mi lado?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112922707597658976?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112922707597658976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112922707597658976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112922707597658976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112922707597658976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/si-es-cierto-q-no-puedo-ni-conmigo-por.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112823178883317184</id><published>2005-10-01T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T22:43:08.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;soledad en tiempo y en espacio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cuando cada sonido del reloj&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;me aparta mas y mas de vos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aunq no lo quieras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ni yo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;va&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mas alla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que los deseos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;personales y de la voluntad...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;el querer separarnos asi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;es culpa del tiempo y su crueldad,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pero vos y yo seguimos intentando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112823178883317184?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112823178883317184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112823178883317184&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112823178883317184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112823178883317184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/10/soledad-en-tiempo-y-en-espaciocuando.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112805402562355706</id><published>2005-09-29T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T21:20:25.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ojo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/ojo2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; No creiste q iba a ser así, cada día, cada hr....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Esperar a q esta sea la ultima explosion es lo q  te mantenia despierta, cada noche, tras cada sonido aterrador q escapaba de tu mente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Extrañamente ya no es así...muy extrañamente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Las ultimas lagrimas cayeron al fin el ultimo invierno, al lado de unas hojas manchadas de amarillo y tinta negra. Directo al cesto, junto con toda la demás basura. Hechas un bollo enmarañado de ideas no muy claras. No es q esté diciendo q  las de ahora lo sean, nada de eso, simplemente &lt;em&gt;esas&lt;/em&gt; no lo eran...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nunca creiste q sería posible secar por completo esas pupilas q tantas imagenes retuvieron...esas retinas mojadas q te hacian sufrir cada noche, cuando se desahogaban y humedecian todo tu rostro. Ahora lo lograste...ahora pudiste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No creiste q iba a ser así, cada día, cada hr....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Realmente...yo tampoco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112805402562355706?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112805402562355706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112805402562355706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112805402562355706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112805402562355706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/09/no-creiste-q-iba-ser-as-cada-da-cada.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892701.post-112792217302987287</id><published>2005-09-28T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T08:55:54.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/ojo3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/320/ojo3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/176/509/1600/RSCN5908.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Everything I Want To Be"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I find myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm just awastin' my time away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No matter what I do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It always ends up the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One minute moves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Into the next&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My life was simple&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But now it's complex&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it doesn't seem to mean anything at all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And everything I want to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is just another silly dream, you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I'll keep dreaming just the same&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes it's hard to be me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When people stand in my way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I get so easily discouraged&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well, what can I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They try to mess you up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They try to push you around&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They'll do anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To bring you down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Stuck in mediocrity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When everybody's trying to bring me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Back down to reality&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, why can't they see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just how much this means to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Maybe one day I'll be special&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your dreams are special to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But maybe others don't care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It brings you down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you find them disregarded&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And when you're out on your own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's hard to make yourself stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And finish up what it was&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you once started&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Taken down that easily&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When everybody's trying to tell me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What I'm gonna have to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, why can't they see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just how much this means to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Maybe one day I'll be special&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll be special&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It means nothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It means everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It means something to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What you tryin' to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not gonna play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In this little game&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you have created for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You had your chance to do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What you needed to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And not it's time for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To step right up and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Spin that wheel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This time's for real&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's not gonna work this time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cuz in the end it's going to be mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's no need for me to stay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cuz everything is gonna go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7892701-112792217302987287?l=insomniocular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/feeds/112792217302987287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7892701&amp;postID=112792217302987287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112792217302987287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7892701/posts/default/112792217302987287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniocular.blogspot.com/2005/09/everything-i-want-to-bei-find-myselfim.html' title=''/><author><name>.flor</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15666095876064307257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
