<?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-4029951194927623494</id><updated>2012-02-08T19:44:43.092-06:00</updated><title type='text'>~·Murasaki ame·~</title><subtitle type='html'>Black Melancholy</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5373944835222331184</id><published>2012-02-08T19:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T19:44:43.102-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Final  Act</title><content type='html'>&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Do you really have to leave?"&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I promised. The people I love, are waiting."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;i&gt;"...I don't understand. Not at all. But...please take care of yourself."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Of course...I'll come back to you. Even if you don't promise to wait. I'll return knowing you'll be here."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;p&gt;LOVELESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5373944835222331184?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5373944835222331184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5373944835222331184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2012/02/final-act.html' title='Final  Act'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-7536739490794609035</id><published>2012-02-06T00:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T00:14:08.891-06:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVELESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Final Fantasy: Crisis Core&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prologue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end The goddess descends from the sky Wings of light and dark spread afar She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Act I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess We seek it thus, and take to the sky Ripples form on the water's surface The wandering soul knows no rest &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Act II&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is no hate, only joy For you are beloved by the goddess Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul Pride is lost Wings stripped away, the end is nigh &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Act III&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow No matter where the winds may blow My friend, your desire Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess Even if the morrow is barren of promises, Nothing shall forestall my return. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Act IV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My friend, the fates are cruel There are no dreams, no honor remains The arrow has left the bow of the goddess My soul, corrupted by vengeance Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey In my own salvation And your eternal slumber Legend shall speak Of sacrifice at world's end The wind sails over the water's surface Quietly, but surely &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Act V*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if the morrow is barren of promises, Nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land To spare the sands, the seas, the skies I offer thee this silent sacrifice&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-7536739490794609035?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7536739490794609035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7536739490794609035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2012/02/loveless.html' title='LOVELESS'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3032418738575568012</id><published>2012-01-18T19:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T19:18:17.233-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I realized</title><content type='html'>It's pretty awkward you know...&lt;br /&gt;back before, at that time, at that moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always told me,&lt;br /&gt;how much you loved me,&lt;br /&gt;how much you longed for me,&lt;br /&gt;how much you desired me,&lt;br /&gt;how much you admired me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't never get to understand...&lt;br /&gt;not because of a lack of sense,&lt;br /&gt;not because of that uneasy feeling,&lt;br /&gt;neither because I couldn't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just didn't wanted to be loved...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventhough, I loved you too&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't see it at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's late, I regret nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3032418738575568012?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3032418738575568012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3032418738575568012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-realized.html' title='I realized'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-7090622242981945510</id><published>2011-12-07T22:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T22:16:13.959-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Alt.end</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;by The Cure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah it's a big bright beautiful world&lt;br /&gt;Just the other side of the door&lt;br /&gt;Six billion beautiful faces&lt;br /&gt;But I saw them all before...&lt;br /&gt;No this is not about running out on you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not a case of right or wrong&lt;br /&gt;It's only that it's over and done for me&lt;br /&gt;It's already been and gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want another go around - I don't want to start again&lt;br /&gt;No I don't want another go around - I want this to be the end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I want this to be the end - I don't want to start again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this to be the last thing we do&lt;br /&gt;It for me and you...&lt;br /&gt;For all my dreams came true&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I know I should care if you come with me&lt;br /&gt;Yeah and I should care if you go&lt;br /&gt;Really should care about your love or your hate of me&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I should care... but I don't&lt;br /&gt;And it's not about giving up on you&lt;br /&gt;It's not a case of do or die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's simply that it's over and out for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no more room inside&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want another run around - I don't want to start again&lt;br /&gt;No I don't want another run around - I want this to be the end&lt;br /&gt;I want this to be the end - I don't want to start again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I want this to be the last thing we do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It for me and you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this to be the last thing we do - this to be it for me and you&lt;br /&gt;This to be the last we go through&lt;br /&gt;this to be the end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For all my dreams came true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-7090622242981945510?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7090622242981945510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7090622242981945510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2011/12/altend.html' title='Alt.end'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5275770445622103244</id><published>2010-12-13T16:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T16:57:20.065-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The last day</title><content type='html'>Yo sé, que el día que te vuelva a ver&lt;br /&gt;vas a morir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te veré por última vez, te veré en tu debilidad,&lt;br /&gt;tu flaqueza, tu enfermedad, tu desgracia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morirás frente a mis ojos, porque no pude hacer más.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5275770445622103244?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5275770445622103244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5275770445622103244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/12/last-day.html' title='The last day'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5216872645173093188</id><published>2010-11-19T01:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T01:34:23.317-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Me incomoda&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Porque?&lt;br /&gt;Mis fotos ya no tienen alma&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5216872645173093188?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5216872645173093188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5216872645173093188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/11/photos.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-4359836287794756504</id><published>2010-11-11T23:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T23:14:33.470-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu cárcel</title><content type='html'>Consolidaste tu cárcel,&lt;br /&gt;Impenetrable desde afuera,&lt;br /&gt;Débil en su interior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sus celdas guardan&lt;br /&gt;Recuerdos, sentimientos,&lt;br /&gt;Secretos, penas, personas,&lt;br /&gt;¿Alegrías?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadenas, candados, llaves&lt;br /&gt;No hay llaves…&lt;br /&gt;Buscarlas… no quieres&lt;br /&gt;Te ayudo, no quieres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muchos esperan salir,&lt;br /&gt;A veces se quieren quedar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora se derrumba…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-4359836287794756504?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/4359836287794756504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/4359836287794756504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/11/tu-carcel.html' title='Tu cárcel'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5652211378784504666</id><published>2010-11-09T23:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T23:25:35.317-06:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>Paralizandome&lt;br /&gt;Jamás podre esperarte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Y no tengo porque esperar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El Rito, Soda Stereo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5652211378784504666?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5652211378784504666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5652211378784504666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-9149228236167150548</id><published>2010-11-04T22:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T22:52:35.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinceramente</title><content type='html'>Me cagas y es todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Igual la quiero, pero no le digan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-9149228236167150548?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/9149228236167150548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/9149228236167150548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/11/sinceramente.html' title='Sinceramente'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-2497378398275258628</id><published>2010-11-02T17:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T17:30:01.923-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Entonces</title><content type='html'>Ahora resulta que cada persona que ayudas&lt;br /&gt;desarrolla algun tipo de amor incomprensible hacia ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totalmente interesante&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-2497378398275258628?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/2497378398275258628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/2497378398275258628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/11/entonces.html' title='Entonces'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-7501790202605919165</id><published>2010-10-31T20:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T20:42:35.147-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Error</title><content type='html'>Y todo recae en que es mi culpa,&lt;br /&gt;La razón de tus males, la cara de tu desgracia,&lt;br /&gt;El cuerpo de tus miedos, pesadillas…&lt;br /&gt;Las pastillas que te intoxican y te matan.&lt;br /&gt;El cuchillo que te hiere…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simplemente, tu condena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo no quise que fuera así&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-7501790202605919165?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7501790202605919165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7501790202605919165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/error.html' title='Error'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-7730119237348392341</id><published>2010-10-28T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T22:46:03.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Must confess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Your body aches from mistakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, help him please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-7730119237348392341?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7730119237348392341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7730119237348392341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/must-confess.html' title='Must confess'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-8123546526993680511</id><published>2010-10-25T23:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T23:03:47.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm falling away...</title><content type='html'>時間が傷を癒すことがあります&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-8123546526993680511?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8123546526993680511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8123546526993680511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-falling-away.html' title='I&apos;m falling away...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5589991690193850870</id><published>2010-10-25T22:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:33:08.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A ti...</title><content type='html'>Siempre te preferí así...&lt;br /&gt;Insípida, &lt;br /&gt;Indefensa,&lt;br /&gt;Inodora, &lt;br /&gt;Intangible, &lt;br /&gt;Inexplicable,&lt;br /&gt;Inalcanzable,&lt;br /&gt;Incolora, como tu mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero sobre todo...lejana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5589991690193850870?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5589991690193850870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5589991690193850870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/ti.html' title='A ti...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-4782966471337992942</id><published>2010-10-19T23:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T23:19:20.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alsatia</title><content type='html'>by Galneryus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;We'll find the path of Alsatia&lt;br /&gt;We'll lose if we don't fight now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can play in the sculpture garden&lt;br /&gt;Petrified faces are watching in the dark&lt;br /&gt;Assimilate yourself in this mystical world&lt;br /&gt;That's all you have to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Day after day, you got tragic situation&lt;br /&gt;Night after night, you tried to break the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortune is calling you in this mystical world&lt;br /&gt;You'll find a way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cloud in the mists of time&lt;br /&gt;You must take aim and play your game&lt;br /&gt;Emotional neglect is the price that you must pay to your desire&lt;br /&gt;It's Alsatia&lt;br /&gt;You just believe in the lie to forget the awful truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;You know the disturbance never ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no reason to take this process&lt;br /&gt;Resentment will change into sweet desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;You'll run for your life in this mystical world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware of the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawl in the mists of time&lt;br /&gt;You must face the wall of the hate&lt;br /&gt;Eternal vigilance is the price that you must pay to your desire&lt;br /&gt;It's Alsatia&lt;br /&gt;You just go against the law, fall into delusion&lt;br /&gt;You know the disturbance never ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-4782966471337992942?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/4782966471337992942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/4782966471337992942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/alsatia.html' title='Alsatia'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3578229669577450503</id><published>2010-10-12T20:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T21:15:27.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The world</title><content type='html'>"Eres lo único que funciona del mundo...eres el mundo como debería"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sigh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3578229669577450503?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3578229669577450503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3578229669577450503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/world.html' title='The world'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-6600175394290321561</id><published>2010-10-08T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T22:30:05.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not coming back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;):&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-6600175394290321561?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6600175394290321561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6600175394290321561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3261811389366399680</id><published>2010-10-05T10:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T10:33:47.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Commercial for Levi</title><content type='html'>by Placebo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You're the one who's always choking Trojan&lt;br /&gt;You're the one who's always bruised and broken&lt;br /&gt;Sleep may be the enemy&lt;br /&gt;But so's another line&lt;br /&gt;It's a remedy&lt;br /&gt;You should take more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the one who's always choking trojan&lt;br /&gt;You're the one who's always bruised and broken&lt;br /&gt;Drunk on immorality&lt;br /&gt;Valium and cherry wine&lt;br /&gt;Coke and ecstasy&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna blow your mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand the fascination&lt;br /&gt;I've even been there once or twice or more&lt;br /&gt;But if you don't change your situation&lt;br /&gt;Then you'll die, you'll die, don't die, don't die&lt;br /&gt;Please don't die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't die u.u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3261811389366399680?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3261811389366399680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3261811389366399680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/commercial-for-levi.html' title='Commercial for Levi'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-344991926887599240</id><published>2010-10-05T10:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T10:31:47.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Narcoleptic</title><content type='html'>By Placebo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Slip and stumble at my first offences&lt;br /&gt;It's not treason, it's no lie&lt;br /&gt;You talk in paragraphs&lt;br /&gt;I write my sentence&lt;br /&gt;It's not treason, it's no lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed a place for us to dream &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crush and crumble under your defenses&lt;br /&gt;It's not treason, it's no lie&lt;br /&gt;You frame the photograph&lt;br /&gt;I sit on fences&lt;br /&gt;Change of season, love can die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed a place for us to dream &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we tear out the tumor&lt;br /&gt;It's later, never sooner&lt;br /&gt;If we tear out the tumor&lt;br /&gt;It's later, never sooner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed a place for us to dream &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd better keep it in check&lt;br /&gt;Or you'll end up a wreck&lt;br /&gt;And you'll never wake up&lt;br /&gt;You'd better keep it in check&lt;br /&gt;Or you'll end up a wreck&lt;br /&gt;And you'll never wake up&lt;br /&gt;Wake up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que despierte...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-344991926887599240?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/344991926887599240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/344991926887599240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/10/narcoleptic.html' title='Narcoleptic'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-1311285516832032976</id><published>2010-07-21T22:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T22:46:20.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deudas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"No todo puede pagarse,&lt;br /&gt;aveces hay que resignarse a estar siempre en deuda"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chinese Jars - Wllliam C. Gordon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-1311285516832032976?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1311285516832032976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1311285516832032976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/07/deudas.html' title='Deudas'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-1461441333594512468</id><published>2010-06-26T23:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T23:58:17.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Respuestas</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"¿Cómo se hace para vivir una vida vacía?, ¿cómo se hace para vivir una vida llena de nada?" &lt;/em&gt;-El secreto de sus ojos-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me quiebro, me quiebro cuando me preguntas algo así.&lt;br /&gt;Vienes a mi en busca de respuestas, soluciones.&lt;br /&gt;No puedo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No creo que sea necesario que te cuestiones tanto.&lt;br /&gt;Y mucho menos a mí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solo somos personas, comprendelo.&lt;br /&gt;Si, eso tampoco significa nada para ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo intento, en verdad lo intento, lo sabes.&lt;br /&gt;Pero insistes, no te culpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sé muchas cosas, y tu tampoco.&lt;br /&gt;Date cuenta, de lo que hay, de lo que tienes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que digo no ayuda, perdón.&lt;br /&gt;Dejarte en las mismas, repetir, repetir, repetir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué si estuviera en tu lugar?&lt;br /&gt;Probablemente yo haría lo mismo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En verdad, espero que lo encuentres...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si, no tiene sentido, me vale..pero me queria desahogar. Igual lo reescribo luego.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-1461441333594512468?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1461441333594512468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1461441333594512468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/06/respuestas.html' title='Respuestas'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-7027586498061825766</id><published>2010-06-13T16:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T16:59:17.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"La ladrona de libros"</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;By Markus Zusak &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"He odiado las palabras y las he amado, y espero haber estado a su altura"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epic&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-7027586498061825766?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7027586498061825766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/7027586498061825766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-ladrona-de-libros.html' title='&quot;La ladrona de libros&quot;'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-6516651549185449614</id><published>2010-06-13T16:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T16:59:48.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>De esas personas</title><content type='html'>Ella es de esas personas que se muestran fuertes y valientes, pero que facilmente se elevan y explotan.&lt;br /&gt;Explotan entre llanto y tristeza, cuando de irse se trata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-6516651549185449614?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6516651549185449614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6516651549185449614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-esas-personas.html' title='De esas personas'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5755882538779794812</id><published>2010-06-13T16:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T16:53:39.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"La última extranjera" Página 38</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Las calles de la ciudad estaban llenas de gente, pero la extranjera se habría sentido más sola de haber estado desiertas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5755882538779794812?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5755882538779794812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5755882538779794812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/06/la-ultima-extranjera-pagina-38.html' title='&quot;La última extranjera&quot; Página 38'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3071446730426462250</id><published>2010-05-13T16:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T16:35:46.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Marcha atrás</title><content type='html'>By Kinky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rompo mi ataúd&lt;br /&gt;Y las arrugas se reestiran&lt;br /&gt;Vuelve la razón &lt;br /&gt;En este viaje a la semilla&lt;br /&gt;Se esfuma el amor, &lt;br /&gt;El beso vuelve a ser saliva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo lo que sé&lt;br /&gt;En esta escuela se me va&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcha atrás&lt;br /&gt;Dale marcha atrás&lt;br /&gt;Caminemos a paso lunar.&lt;br /&gt;Marcha atrás.&lt;br /&gt;Dale marcha atrás.&lt;br /&gt;Que tu texto vuelva al celular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sale de mi piel&lt;br /&gt;Y mi tatuaje se hace tinta.&lt;br /&gt;Juego con robots&lt;br /&gt;Y se me encojen las costillas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volver a gatear&lt;br /&gt;En este viaje a la semilla.&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de alguien más&lt;br /&gt;Y soy esperma que se va... , se va... , se va.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No quiero hablarte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero contestarte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero recibirte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero recibir&lt;br /&gt;El texto que me dice adiós.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No quiero hablarte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero contestarte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero recibirte, &lt;br /&gt;Ya no quiero recibir&lt;br /&gt;El texto que me dice adiós.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3071446730426462250?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3071446730426462250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3071446730426462250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/05/marcha-atras.html' title='Marcha atrás'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3235181604971198919</id><published>2010-05-05T22:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T22:49:07.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quisiera...</title><content type='html'>Quisiera no quererte más...&lt;br /&gt;así no me harías soltar mis tristes aguas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera que no me importara...&lt;br /&gt;así no me habría telarañas en mi mente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera ignorarte...&lt;br /&gt;así no me darían paros cardiacos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera ya no verte...&lt;br /&gt;así te olvidaría fácilmente &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera no verte a lo ojos...&lt;br /&gt;así no me recorrería este escalofrío&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera me dijeras las cosas..&lt;br /&gt;así no estaría hecha un manojo de nervios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quisiera pensar menos...&lt;br /&gt;así no sentiria esta sensación de vacio y mareo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera sacarlo de mi mente...&lt;br /&gt;pero no puedo, ¿entiendes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero quisiera que leyeras esto...&lt;br /&gt;talvez así me dirias la verdad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;u.u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3235181604971198919?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3235181604971198919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3235181604971198919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/05/quisiera.html' title='Quisiera...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5549354653646891981</id><published>2010-05-02T23:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T23:39:49.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Tigers I've Known...</title><content type='html'>From Wild Tigers I've Known&lt;br /&gt;Directed by Cam Archer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do﻿ you think about breaking things? We could break things." &lt;br /&gt;"Hearts?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Don't break my heart"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5549354653646891981?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5549354653646891981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5549354653646891981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/05/wild-tigers-ive-known.html' title='Wild Tigers I&apos;ve Known...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-1613287737303250988</id><published>2010-03-23T22:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T22:47:33.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Incomprensible</title><content type='html'>Y desde la ventana blindada me asomo para observar su pálida y anémica figura. Solo para encontrarme gritos ahogados entre sueños durante su insomnio. Mientras la música filosa suena para dar una puñalada más, una cortada más, una herida más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De esas que no parecen cicatrizar nunca, quizás y así sea siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tratando de llegar a la madrugada busca sin sentido su sentir sin llegar mas lejos de lo que sus cadenas permiten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atado a su realidad creada, ideas que no escapan, vaivén de momentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desvarío de esperas, llegan tarde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buscan un porque que no existe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muy tarde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora duerme.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-1613287737303250988?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1613287737303250988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1613287737303250988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/03/incomprensible.html' title='Incomprensible'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-720664908565363699</id><published>2010-02-18T18:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T18:45:32.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;(Dreams In Digital)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Orgy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's lost in coma where it's beautiful&lt;br /&gt;intoxicated from the deep sleep, deep sleep&lt;br /&gt;do you wonder what it's like&lt;br /&gt;living in a permanent imagination?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sleeping to escape reality, but you like it like that&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;guilty by design &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's nothing more then fiction. &lt;br /&gt;she dreams in digital, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cause it's better then nothing. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that control is gone, &lt;br /&gt;it seems unreal, &lt;br /&gt;she's dreaming in digital. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;she dreams in digital.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and your pixel army can't save you now&lt;br /&gt;my finger's on the kill switch&lt;br /&gt;i remember i used to compose your dreams&lt;br /&gt;control your dreams&lt;br /&gt;and don't be afraid to expose yourself&lt;br /&gt;before i shut you down&lt;br /&gt;you made some changes since the virus caught you sleeping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-720664908565363699?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/720664908565363699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/720664908565363699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/02/fiction.html' title='Fiction'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3495379789913465644</id><published>2010-01-30T23:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T23:29:39.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brooklyn Blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;By Barry Manilow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I flew in from the West Coast&lt;br /&gt;Just the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I flew in from the West Coast&lt;br /&gt;and we circled J.F.K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie ended and I pulled up the shade,&lt;br /&gt;looked out the window while the Muzak played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But in my head I'm singin',&lt;br /&gt;singin' the Brooklyn Blues.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're growin' up in Brooklyn&lt;br /&gt;the Bridge is like a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Said when you're growin' up in Brooklyn&lt;br /&gt;that Bridge is sure your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that river, looks a hundred miles wide&lt;br /&gt;when all your dreams are on the other side,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that can start you singin'&lt;br /&gt;singin' the Brooklyn Blues.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've got myself some money&lt;br /&gt;a mansion in Bel-aire.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I've spent a lot of money&lt;br /&gt;and I"ve been most ev'ry-where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still there's somethin' missin' I"ve got to find,&lt;br /&gt;a part of me I must've left behind,&lt;br /&gt;that makes a guy start feelin',&lt;br /&gt;feelin' those Brooklyn Blues.&lt;br /&gt;My my.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've sung love songs to a princess&lt;br /&gt;more than once or twice.&lt;br /&gt;I"ve sung rock 'n' roll in Paris,&lt;br /&gt;jazz in paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's a song of mine I couldn't have sung,&lt;br /&gt;a tune I started back when I was young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've come home to finish,&lt;br /&gt;finish my Brooklyn Blues.&lt;br /&gt;My Brooklyn Blues&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3495379789913465644?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3495379789913465644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3495379789913465644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/01/brooklyn-blues.html' title='Brooklyn Blues'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3824167106511343195</id><published>2010-01-02T22:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T22:22:02.342-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Empty streets, empty words</title><content type='html'>Fin de la jornada, camino por las calles,&lt;br /&gt;como siempre, pero ésta noche....&lt;br /&gt;Las calles del centro completamente vacías,&lt;br /&gt;ese centro antes atiborrado de gente, con prisa,&lt;br /&gt;con niños, con problemas, con su vida. Hoy, solo.&lt;br /&gt;Vaya, hasta puedo oír el eco de mis pasos,&lt;br /&gt;y la luz mercurial que siempre me enferma,&lt;br /&gt;parpadea con su ritmo. Algo con sentido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miro al cielo, despejado, luna llena.&lt;br /&gt;Miro hacia atrás, nada, oscuridad, pasillos desiertos.&lt;br /&gt;Susurros de tormento, crujidos de felicidad,&lt;br /&gt;bolsas rodando, basura, abandono. Y nada más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Nada más? ¿Es todo lo que puede dar?&lt;br /&gt;Una ciudad tranquila y vacía, y...&lt;br /&gt;No es un día normal, empieza un año...&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué me puede dar si lo recibo con lágrimas?&lt;br /&gt;Espero que algo más que calles vacías, espero…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3824167106511343195?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3824167106511343195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3824167106511343195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2010/01/empty-streets-empty-words.html' title='Empty streets, empty words'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-6495793927074701290</id><published>2009-12-08T21:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T21:44:34.471-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vinyl</title><content type='html'>by Zoé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoy desperté deslizándome en un rayo de luna&lt;br /&gt;Embriagado de ti, del calor de tu flor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un huracán se levanta en la punta del cielo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Se abre paso hacia mí, &lt;strong&gt;con violencia de amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que me hará sentir&lt;br /&gt;Que me hará soñar&lt;br /&gt;O que me hará sufrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yo sé que nunca es sabio abrir tanto la puerta&lt;br /&gt;Pero es que arrastro con un peso mortal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aunque dijiste que era solo cosa de una noche&lt;br /&gt;Ya no me aguanto por volverte a tener&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En explosión, sin gravedad&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de vinyl chorreando las nubes&lt;br /&gt;En explosión, sin gravedad&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de vinyl chorreando las nubes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Y aunque me digan que no eres una chica fácil&lt;br /&gt;Ya no me aguanto por volverte a tener&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En explosión, sin gravedad&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de vinyl chorreando las nubes&lt;br /&gt;En explosión, sin gravedad&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de vinyl chorreando las nubes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-6495793927074701290?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6495793927074701290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6495793927074701290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/12/vinyl.html' title='Vinyl'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-8364294328462670299</id><published>2009-10-16T19:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T19:55:27.951-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Poli</title><content type='html'>by Zoé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Recuerdo a Poli &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;era mi chica ideal &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;una dulce perla blanca mexicana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;la cual yo amaba&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pero nunca pude tener &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ni mostrarle todo lo que le escribi &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;en el fondo del mar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;satelites &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;flotando por el universo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;en busca de señal &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;señales de vida &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;en su constelacion &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;electroradiograma de amor &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;destellos de mil años luz &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;esta es la historia de una vieja cancion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;la de la primera vez &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Recuerdo a Poli &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;era mi chica ideal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;una dulce perla blanca mexicana &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;la cual yo amaba &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pero nunca pude tener&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ni mostrarle todo lo que le escribi&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;en la espalda del sol &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;satelites&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;flotando por el universo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;en busca de señal &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;señales de vida &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;en su constelacion &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mensajes o evidencia de amor&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;destellos de mil años luz &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;esta es la historia de una vieja cancion &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;la de la primera vez &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she's all i wanted &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;she's all i needed &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the dream &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the dream of all the men in Mexico&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-8364294328462670299?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8364294328462670299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8364294328462670299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/10/poli.html' title='Poli'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-8213852679437867217</id><published>2009-07-30T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:32:57.845-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Despierta...</title><content type='html'>El crepúsculo de su vida, un monumento horrendo de mirar.&lt;br /&gt;Las horas dejan de pasar, ¿Pero que es el tiempo a fin de cuentas?&lt;br /&gt;Despierta….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encerrado en el calabozo de sueños rotos,&lt;br /&gt;Cada tanto, suelta débiles alaridos que apenas y perturban las luces.&lt;br /&gt;Despierta…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todas sus memorias, filosas como espadas,&lt;br /&gt;Se acercan sigilosamente, para hundirlo más ¿Qué tanto más?&lt;br /&gt;Despierta…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciego, antes las alas carmesí del odio, esas bellas alas.&lt;br /&gt;Que desaparecen por siempre entre mentiras antes de que note su esencia.&lt;br /&gt;Despierta…&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;¡Que despierte de una vez!&lt;br /&gt;Antes de que anochezca y cierre los ojos para ya no pensar.&lt;br /&gt;Pero esperare a que salga el sol. Aunque sé que no lo hará.&lt;br /&gt;Llueve todos los días, y él no despertara jamás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-8213852679437867217?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8213852679437867217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8213852679437867217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/07/despierta.html' title='Despierta...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5388729588796056633</id><published>2009-07-01T13:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T13:47:07.512-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatever</title><content type='html'>By Zoé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whatever you,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever I,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever dream,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever song,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever heals, whatever feels right,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever up, whatever down,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever god,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever fix,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever need, whatever I want&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all the spiders in my mind,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;all the thing we never said.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maybe the last day of my life,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;when I look at the world,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;through the blue of your eyes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whatever peace,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever war,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever door,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever kiss,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;whatever happens we are the spaceman&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all the spiders in my mind,&lt;br /&gt;all the thing we never said.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the last day of my life,&lt;br /&gt;when I look at the world,&lt;br /&gt;through the blue of your eyes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maybe the last day of my life,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;when I look at the world,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;through the hole in your heart...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5388729588796056633?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5388729588796056633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5388729588796056633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/07/whatever.html' title='Whatever'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5965552508083780160</id><published>2009-06-09T23:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T23:27:39.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>¿Por qué tus cuadros no callan?</title><content type='html'>¿Por qué tus cuadros no callan?&lt;br /&gt;gritan incesantes cuando quiero dormir,&lt;br /&gt;cuentan las oscuras historias detrás de tu arte&lt;br /&gt;los secretos detrás de las luces y sombras,&lt;br /&gt;el dolor y el sufrimiento presentes en los colores,l&lt;br /&gt;a tristeza oculta por sus muchas formas plasmadas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¡Cállalos! No quiero que sigan susurrando&lt;br /&gt;como el viento en mis oídos, al caer la noche.&lt;br /&gt;No quiero que sigan quejándose de la desdicha,&lt;br /&gt;ni de la miseria con la que cargaran por siempre,&lt;br /&gt;o el odio con que nacieron...o con el que no nacieron,&lt;br /&gt;si no que adquirieron con el tiempo, el olvido y el desprecio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La verdad, no me importa que tanto se guarden,&lt;br /&gt;o que tanto sientan...pero ¡que no me lo digan!&lt;br /&gt;Me atormentan con sus voces malditas,&lt;br /&gt;arrastradas por el gran peso que les impusiste,&lt;br /&gt;ese peso con el que tú no puedes cargar,&lt;br /&gt;se lo dejaste a ellos! ¿qué fácil es no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero, ¿por qué he de ser yo quien los escuche?&lt;br /&gt;¿qué he hecho yo, que no haya hecho cualquiera?&lt;br /&gt;¿porque tienen que seguir alimentando mi insomnio&lt;br /&gt;y envenenando mi espíritu? según parece, nunca acabaran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez, acabaran cuando terminen de destrozarme,&lt;br /&gt;cuando este completamente intoxicada,&lt;br /&gt;cuando mis ojos ojerosos y enrojecidos,&lt;br /&gt;no lo soporten más...cuando me caiga de anemia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero y lo hagan antes de todo eso, o por lo menos,&lt;br /&gt;antes de que yo misma destroce mis oídos,&lt;br /&gt;me envenene con las obscenas pastilla de colores,&lt;br /&gt;y me desvele por la paranoia que me causan...&lt;br /&gt;y todo, para acabar con el ruido que me rodea&lt;br /&gt;gracias a ti, a ti y a tus cuadros malditos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Déjenme dormir una sola noche, ¡Déjenme!&lt;br /&gt;¡Espera! ya sé porque tus cuadros no callan...&lt;br /&gt;No callan por todo lo que tú si callas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que callas y guardas, que al parecer, es mucho...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5965552508083780160?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5965552508083780160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5965552508083780160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/06/por-que-tus-cuadros-no-callan.html' title='¿Por qué tus cuadros no callan?'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-8088995460466749739</id><published>2009-06-05T23:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T00:11:04.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Donde tus palabras jámas me alcanzaran...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sin0jib9hAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/hFxwLp_DfoE/s1600-h/cuerdas-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344071324228486146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sin0jib9hAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/hFxwLp_DfoE/s200/cuerdas-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bailo y giro sobre la frágil cuerda de tus sentimientos&lt;br /&gt;Juego sobre ellos, como si no me importase en lo más mínimo&lt;br /&gt;no te mentiré, en verdad, no me interesan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me paro pisando la cuerda, y sigues sin comprender&lt;br /&gt;es mucho lo que quiero decir con ello, entiéndelo ya&lt;br /&gt;Corto la cuerda, pero tú sigues atando los cabos sueltos&lt;br /&gt;¿Cuándo te rendirás?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corto, corto, y vuelvo a cortar cada puente&lt;br /&gt;todos los que intentas crear entre tu y yo&lt;br /&gt;No, tu nunca me alcanzaras...jamás&lt;br /&gt;ni siquiera tus palabras, tus pensamientos..&lt;br /&gt;aquellos plasmados en algún papel, un monitor&lt;br /&gt;nada de eso, y tampoco tu amor...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-8088995460466749739?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8088995460466749739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8088995460466749739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/06/donde-tus-palabras-jamas-me-alcanzaran.html' title='Donde tus palabras jámas me alcanzaran...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sin0jib9hAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/hFxwLp_DfoE/s72-c/cuerdas-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-6765896978106108960</id><published>2009-05-25T17:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T17:29:33.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Por Zoé&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sé, sé, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sé como se siente Amor, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como muerde el Corazón, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;cuando se entrega el Alma. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perdón, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nunca quise hacerte Mal, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pero siempre que me acerco al Fuego, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se me escurre el Diablo.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Siento que me vo' a Morir, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Contemplando la membrana Azul, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;De tus ojos fulminando el Tiempo, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;y el Espacio. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Siento que me voy a hundir, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que mis labios no funcionan más, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;y que tus lágrimas de laser, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desintegran mis palabras.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dead, Dead, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dead, Dead Dead, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dead, Dead, Dead &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Siento que me voy a Morir, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Contemplando la membrana Azul, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;De tus ojos fulminando el Tiempo,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; y el Espacio. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Siento que me voy a hundir, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que mis labios no funcionan más,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;y que tus lágrimas de laser, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desintegran mi alma. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desintegran mi alma, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desintegran mi alma, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desintegran mi alma, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desintegran mi alma, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desintegran mi alma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoé &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Talvez y los vaya a ver cuando vengan!! Sería lo mejor!! Espero que si se pueda....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-6765896978106108960?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6765896978106108960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6765896978106108960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/05/dead.html' title='Dead'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-8112761177731955940</id><published>2009-05-10T18:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T18:24:21.502-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Escóndete</title><content type='html'>Me encontraba caminando sola por las calles repletas de la ciudad nocturna. La gente me miraba con extrañeza. Pero ¿qué importa? Yo los miro igual…&lt;br /&gt;Especialmente a aquellos que se esconden… ¿detrás de que se esconden?&lt;br /&gt;No de una máscara, ni de un disfraz…Mucho menos en la sombra, o en la oscuridad. Ni siquiera en los rincones.&lt;br /&gt;Te preguntaras en donde lo harán.  Entonces, te diré… Se esconden detrás de alguien más, de un completo extraño, de un rostro anónimo.&lt;br /&gt;Míralos, llenos de mentira…pero  ¡felices!  Me dan lastima, terminan personificando a alguien y dejan de ser ellos mismos. No puede haber peor escoria.&lt;br /&gt;Todos son viles copias de una misma persona. Parecen no notarlo, ¿lo sabrán? Quizás nunca lo sabrán, quizás lo niegan, quizás…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aun con todo esto, nos vinimos a encontrar. Sí, en el lugar y en el momento menos indicado. ¿Por qué? No lo sé, no parece razonable, pero nada tiene sentido…Lo sabes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El tiempo acaba de enseñarme algo…  ¡tú eres como ellos!  ¡Te escondes exactamente igual! ¿Cómo no lo note desde el principio? Eres igual que esos desdichados…&lt;br /&gt;¿Acaso no puedes ser tu mismo? ¿Tanta desgracia, pena, tragedia y miseria hay en tu vida?&lt;br /&gt;¡Deja de fingir de una vez! No te creo nada ya, mejor cállate para que dejes de tratar de llenarme con tus mentiras y extasiarme con tus falsas palabras de amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué? ¿Qué dices? ¿Yo también lo hago? Tonterías, ¡Cómo te atreves a decir eso! Nunca haría algo tan bajo como eso. ¡Yo no soy como ustedes!&lt;br /&gt;“Todo el mundo es igual, tu lo has dicho, no te cansas de repetirlo”&lt;br /&gt;No vuelvas mis palabras en mi contra, cierra la boca ya.&lt;br /&gt;“Acéptalo, y escóndete de nuevo…que ya se dieron cuenta…”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-8112761177731955940?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8112761177731955940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/8112761177731955940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/05/escondete.html' title='Escóndete'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-5450390613404632829</id><published>2009-04-29T20:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:48:04.532-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lady of Shalott</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;by Alfred Tennyson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Willows whiten, aspens quiver, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Little breezes dusk and shiver &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Through the wave that runs for ever &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;By the island in the river &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Flowing down to Camelot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Four grey walls, and four grey towers, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Overlook a space of flowers, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the silent isle imbowers &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Only reapers, reaping early, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In among the bearded barley &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hear a song that echoes cheerly &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;From the river winding clearly; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Down to tower'd Camelot; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And by the moon the reaper weary, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Piling sheaves in uplands airy, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There she weaves by night and day &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A magic web with colours gay. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She has heard a whisper say, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A curse is on her if she stay &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To look down to Camelot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She knows not what the curse may be, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so she weaveth steadily, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And little other care hath she, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But in her web she still delights &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To weave the mirror's magic sights, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For often through the silent nights &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A funeral, with plumes and lights &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And music, went to Camelot; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or when the Moon was overhead, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Came two young lovers lately wed. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am half sick of shadows," said&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She left the web, she left the loom, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She made three paces through the room, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She saw the water-lily bloom, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She saw the helmet and the plume, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She look'd down to Camelot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Out flew the web and floated wide; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The mirror crack'd from side to side;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The curse is come upon me," cried &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Under tower and balcony, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;By garden-wall and gallery, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gleaming shape she floated by, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dead-pale between the houses high, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Silent into Camelot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Out upon the wharfs they came, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And around the prow they read her name, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who is this? And what is here? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in the lighted palace near &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Died the sound of royal cheer; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And they crossed themselves for fear, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the Knights at Camelot; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But Lancelot mused a little space &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said, "She has a lovely face; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God in his mercy lend her grace, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lady of Shalott."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otro poema en inglés antiguo jaja..y tambien esta bien extenso. Sólo puse lo más importante. Y pues la historia esta bastante triste, pero me gusta. Ah...hay un manga: "Camelot Garden" que incluye muchos versos de este poema.  Ese manga esta bien triste y perturbante, pero esta bueno y es nadamás de 1 volumén.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-5450390613404632829?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5450390613404632829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/5450390613404632829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/04/lady-of-shalott.html' title='The Lady of Shalott'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-1795972593662404141</id><published>2009-04-20T22:53:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T00:18:59.682-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Huyo</title><content type='html'>Huyo…&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para no enfrentar la verdad&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para no tenerte que lastimar&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para no hablar de más&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se1D4OLI3RI/AAAAAAAAAEM/_vFoSUwCYLY/s1600-h/20060614222322_19seconds_gr_9655.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326988567405714706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se1D4OLI3RI/AAAAAAAAAEM/_vFoSUwCYLY/s200/20060614222322_19seconds_gr_9655.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para no tener que fingir cada día&lt;br /&gt;Fingir mi ausencia, mi vacío, mi apatía&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para que tus palabras no me alcancen&lt;br /&gt;no quiero que me envuelvan para que finalmente caiga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo porque no quiero que digas nada&lt;br /&gt;Porque no quiero escuchar todo de nuevo..&lt;br /&gt;Todo lo que crees que tengas que decir,&lt;br /&gt;al fin y al cabo yo muy bien lo sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para no tener que hablarte con esa frialdad,&lt;br /&gt;Esa frialdad que te congela y después te destroza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo porque hay cosas que me cuesta enfrentar,&lt;br /&gt;Porque no siempre soy tan fuerte como me ves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo para que dejes de aparecerte por doquier&lt;br /&gt;Y trates de robarme alguna palabra, alguna mirada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huyo porque hoy puedo decir que te quiero,&lt;br /&gt;Pero no como tú esperas, nunca lo haré&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esa es tú condena y es mi tormento&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-1795972593662404141?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1795972593662404141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1795972593662404141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/04/huyo.html' title='Huyo'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se1D4OLI3RI/AAAAAAAAAEM/_vFoSUwCYLY/s72-c/20060614222322_19seconds_gr_9655.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-1346916015470080898</id><published>2009-04-13T20:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T19:16:37.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Polvo</title><content type='html'>El polvo representa el paso del tiempo,&lt;br /&gt;Lo que se deja atrás, lo que se olvida&lt;br /&gt;Lo que se guarda celosamente solo &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SePoq13AjLI/AAAAAAAAACc/QvHpjZ0PFCU/s1600-h/dust.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324355007192009906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SePoq13AjLI/AAAAAAAAACc/QvHpjZ0PFCU/s200/dust.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para permanecer como un recuerdo,&lt;br /&gt;Como un recordatorio, ¿quizás?&lt;br /&gt;De que el tiempo corre y no se detiene&lt;br /&gt;Y nosotros tampoco, o no deberíamos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Limpiar, sacudir, remover el polvo,&lt;br /&gt;Solo para intoxicarnos con la nostalgia&lt;br /&gt;Del ayer y embriagarnos con la dulzura&lt;br /&gt;De los buenos recuerdos, lo que se fue&lt;br /&gt;Y no regresará jamás….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasa el tiempo, pasan los años,&lt;br /&gt;los meses, las semanas, los días,&lt;br /&gt;las horas, los minutos, los segundos...&lt;br /&gt;Pasa la vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y nosotros ya no somos los mismos...&lt;br /&gt;y ese polvo seguirá acumulándose...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-1346916015470080898?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1346916015470080898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/1346916015470080898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/04/polvo.html' title='Polvo'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SePoq13AjLI/AAAAAAAAACc/QvHpjZ0PFCU/s72-c/dust.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-330117095603807922</id><published>2009-04-07T20:11:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T20:27:37.382-05:00</updated><title type='text'>INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;By William Wordsworth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;X&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sdv7CBWaX7I/AAAAAAAAACU/vqtqrXJ2On8/s1600-h/iris.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322123396809121714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sdv7CBWaX7I/AAAAAAAAACU/vqtqrXJ2On8/s200/iris.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;[…]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sdv6VSagpUI/AAAAAAAAACM/kdcohnvsoRw/s1600-h/2964575713_4305b058e2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;What though the radiance which was once so bright&lt;br /&gt;Be now for ever taken from my sight,&lt;br /&gt;Though nothing can bring back the hour&lt;br /&gt;Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;&lt;br /&gt;We will grieve not, rather find&lt;br /&gt;Strength in what remains behind;&lt;br /&gt;In the primal sympathy&lt;br /&gt;Which having been must ever be;&lt;br /&gt;In the soothing thoughts that spring&lt;br /&gt;Out of human suffering;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the faith that looks through death,&lt;br /&gt;In years that bring the philosophic mind.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Es un fragmento de una Oda, es el 10mo canto(¿se decia canto? ¿ era en otra cosa?). Bueno, eso no es lo importante. Ah, y al parecer hay una película que no he visto que toma su título de este poema: "Splendour in the grass". Ja, muchas películas basan su nombre en poemas...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-330117095603807922?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/330117095603807922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/330117095603807922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/04/intimations-of-immortality-from.html' title='INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Sdv7CBWaX7I/AAAAAAAAACU/vqtqrXJ2On8/s72-c/iris.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3868139357919251839</id><published>2009-04-03T21:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T21:34:11.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Entre dos tierras"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por Heroes del Silencio&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SdbUS2we8SI/AAAAAAAAACE/INraZiEYQfw/s1600-h/purple-butterfly_800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320673430186422562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SdbUS2we8SI/AAAAAAAAACE/INraZiEYQfw/s200/purple-butterfly_800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Te puedes vender,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;cualquier oferta es buena&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si quieres poder..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;y qué fácil es&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;abrir tanto la boca para opinar,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y si te piensas echar atrás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;tienes muchas huellas que borrar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Déjame, que yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pierdes la fe,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cualquier esperanza es vana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;y no sé qué creer;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pero olvídame, que nadie te ha llamado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ya estás otra vez.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Déjame, que yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Déjalo ya,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;no seas membrillo y permite pasar,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y si no piensas echar atrás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;tienes mucho barro que tragar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Déjame, que yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Déjame, que yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;si yo no tengo la culpa de verte caer...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;entre dos tierras estás&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;y no dejas aire que respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buena letra de ésta canción, pudiera no ser demasiado profunda... pero me gustan algunas cosas que dicen por como me encuentro en estos momentos. Bueno, ya luego pongo algo que yo haya escrito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3868139357919251839?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3868139357919251839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3868139357919251839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/04/entre-dos-tierras.html' title='&quot;Entre dos tierras&quot;'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/SdbUS2we8SI/AAAAAAAAACE/INraZiEYQfw/s72-c/purple-butterfly_800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-3521899774882334035</id><published>2009-03-25T20:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T20:55:20.739-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Eloisa to Abelard"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;by Alexander Pope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Fragment) &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Scrt7dtwxrI/AAAAAAAAAB8/45e4C3IGIxY/s1600-h/purple%2520sky_castle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317323915908925106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Scrt7dtwxrI/AAAAAAAAAB8/45e4C3IGIxY/s200/purple%2520sky_castle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;In these deep solitudes and awful cells,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And ever-musing melancholy reigns;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yet, yet I love! — From Abelard it came,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And Eloisa yet must kiss the name. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;How often must it love, how often hate!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;How often hope, despair, resent, regret,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conceal, disdain — do all things but forget.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renounce my love, my life, myself — and you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alone can rival, can succeed to thee. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The world forgetting, by the world forgot.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Far other dreams my erring soul employ,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Far other raptures, of unholy joy:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh curs'd, dear horrors of all-conscious night!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And stir within me every source of love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wake — no more I hear, no more I view,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I call aloud; it hears not what I say;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;To dream once more I close my willing eyes;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alas, no more — methinks we wand'ring go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And wake to all the griefs I left behind. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Éste poema es bastante largo, y es en inglés viejo...así que hay unas cosas por ahí que no entendi. Y pues el nombre de la película de "Eterno Resplandor de una Mente sin Recuerdos" viene de éste poema.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029951194927623494-3521899774882334035?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3521899774882334035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/3521899774882334035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/03/eloisa-to-abelard.html' title='&quot;Eloisa to Abelard&quot;'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Scrt7dtwxrI/AAAAAAAAAB8/45e4C3IGIxY/s72-c/purple%2520sky_castle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029951194927623494.post-6818874584944026726</id><published>2009-03-24T18:46:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T00:16:37.277-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just because...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/ScmAHPNwvEI/AAAAAAAAABs/bcokqKxyMQ0/s1600-h/1228852356737_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316921696919272514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 167px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/ScmAHPNwvEI/AAAAAAAAABs/bcokqKxyMQ0/s320/1228852356737_f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bueno, he decidido hacer éste blog...por novedosa, si. Al rato se me pasa, mientras subiré mis estupideces ja. La verdad no pretendo tener un público o algo por el estilo. Quizá es solo una manera de desahogo, o cosas que quiero recordar de alguna manera..&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/4029951194927623494-6818874584944026726?l=murasakirasen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6818874584944026726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029951194927623494/posts/default/6818874584944026726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://murasakirasen.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-because.html' title='Just because...'/><author><name>Malina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10439243566194588244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/Se07CyLRliI/AAAAAAAAADk/u90HFpwhHMg/S220/Image015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uEWZkMyjEcA/ScmAHPNwvEI/AAAAAAAAABs/bcokqKxyMQ0/s72-c/1228852356737_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
