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#reflexion
Es un deleite divagar un poco, soltarse de la cuerda firme de lo real, dejar que la utopía nos tome de la mano (nos consuma un poco) y caminar, aunque sea a ciegas, hacia lo imposible. Imaginar es un acto de rebeldía silenciosa, una conspiración íntima contra la rutina que tanto aturde. ¿No lo creen? J. Felix
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Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 11:38 PM UTC
Divagar e Imaginar....
Do I truly enjoy every experience, or just find the easiest way to get through it?
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Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 3:15 AM UTC
Phrase of the day
Who will one day say that there is reason in things done by the heart?
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Jan 5, 2025
Jan 5, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC
Frases 1
Somos eso último que pensamos antes de dormir, eso que nos inquieta nada más despertar. Somos sueños, ideas y realidad, una mezcla de lo vivido y un pedazo de cada persona que está, o que se ha ido. Somos eso que guardamos bajo llave. Somos lo que decimos, pero sobre todo, somos lo que callamos.
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Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 6:43 PM UTC
Somos
And at the end of the day All that matters is your soul's way And you may or may not know Your heart's flow.
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 9:00 AM UTC
Reflection
Foolishness should be a crime And a heavy crime, It takes more of oneself than anything ever could with sharp grey razors Penetrating flesh slowly in one's immense pleasure, Oddly satisfying until the end comes,                       And the end is always near                                      As foolishness gets in touch with reality. And what strikes me is that anyone can be a fool, It seems to be embedded in the human DNA                         Holding hands with corruption, For foolishness is nothing but the corruption of oneself At the hands of fantasy.
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Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 7:50 PM UTC
Human nature introspection
The mountains stand like giant ghosts behind the shore, The buildings trap the sand Their electric lights such vigilants of the sea Motorbikes as little dispatchment troops Cars parked as sleeping cops. The buildings, so aware of the sea, Forget the glory of rocky tall ghosts from beyond, Their valleys turned shopping malls and residential areas.
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Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC
The mountains' stand
Sincerety has aligned me with the wrong path                                              to love                                              to success                                              to glory, It certainly draws the potential of freedom and truth                                 yet at the cost of shattering every chance of a quiet life, Even the freedom it brings is only of oneself's mind                                      We have no control                                      We, the sincere,                                        Shall not have our names sang,                                      Yet they will ring for centuries In the ears of the many who never spoke for themselves.
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC
Reverberation
Love will not save you It won't save anyone, Ask any cardiologist. It is a bitter thing, love And every feeling that traps you In ecstasy tying you to another soul. Never more blissful than the effort it takes To handle, The gut screams, the heart fails. The spirit laughs.
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC
It is a bitter thing
in the back seat of a car the headphones in the higher volume, the sound spreads in the back seat of a car with it's secrets veiled by it's mouth only when it's useful it is had with attention but in indifference times disappears in the darkness passing the crossroad a master and it's disciples the mists surrounds it and make it invisible the bell rings the sparrow sings the cigarette burns the blade cuts with it's friends it walks but the loneliness surrounds it into the night a cry of pleasure fills it a nervous laugh followed by the kiss of love a punch that makes it bleed the Patriot gives it it's clothes in the street and freedom around the corner the wind whisper the owl sings the candles on the moon shines in the woods appears smiling, hysterical, naked dancing in endless spirals with it's invisible beings around in a black and white world, ruled a being with colored eyes breaking boundaries and walls the arcana 0 incorporates in the back seat of a car the headphones in the higher volume, the sound spreads imagining the perfect perfection in a place of pain and prejudice the pen between it's fingers dance a silent music the poem of it's pale owner the paper reveals secretly
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Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
It
Dear world, I understand I'm not the perfect picture you paint in your mind Let's be kind to the truth, I Look at my reflexion, something isn't right Dear world, I'm losing my youth never had a connection Day to day I face rejection, You Say there's redemption As I see this reflection of non-perfection I Try getting along But there is all these objections. You echo "I lost connection" Well Connection was never lost, That path was never crossed See world, I don't fall for your lies and deception Saying this world is yours, Well where's mines? You say see its my world, You must play by my rules Well one day I'll say that too, I will one day feel the same way Maybe because, I'll Get you caught up in tricks and lies, Make you feel criminalized, In my world, You'll be victimized You will be called uncivilized You won't be the perfect picture You painted in my mind.
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
Dear World