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2011 ... Find

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A year round as it evokes the final zero. Year when I realize how much life has changed and how they all end Advanced Degree. Year that would put the bottom of a drawer and find it just as well, though it's hard to find.
This year I was so weak I could feel my own pride was trampled again and again. I felt more alone than ever before, away from the real world around me. Bubble that I lived an experience I hope not to repeat any more, because soap and water drown me, and I would not suffocated.
Definitely it was a year earthquake, in tears, loss, failure, loneliness, joy and kisses fine. Year gave me lessons that, despite everything, not penetrated the bottom and that led me once again starting point.

If I had to define this year in one word would be: DISAPPOINTMENT.

I became disillusioned people.
I disappointed myself. And I deseilusioné
each of my ideals.

A year who knows the gall, although it is covered by a burnt caramel a little ... As you leave that bitter aftertaste. Yes, a year that will be most remembered for what I want. Or so I think yet.

The great line this year was " who spits in the face to the sky falls ." And to say that to me a goblet of snow fell in the eye would not be exaggerating. This has helped me know what not want out of life. Because if something has been positive in these 365 days ... is that I've come much closer to those who do not want to be than it ever had before.

Sometimes I think with each passing year my inner artist dies. It seems that the Peter Pan who lives in me farther and farther away from Neverland, and it kills me a little. I do not know if that's "mature" because it seems more "torture." But nobody really cares if my soul is run down or poorly survives the process. There are times when even I feel that the soul does not matter. Alma recalls feeling, and feel is something I do not like anything.

I have no goals for this new year to keep on track. I have no desire to breathe another day. I have no curiosity to wonder how it ends War and Peace (Book I leave and I return for several months, not because I do not like- the contrary, it captivates me! - but because I had read or inspiration). And I do not expect more than laid off, some welcome and a farewell to mutate my life.

2011 is supposed to be a year of changes. Back to the old and leave the season and used in the closet. But whenever one turns to put that old garment that had almost forgotten the little he remembers why he left kept a long time ... and although sometimes the old is back in fashion, sometimes only a symbol of a past that portrays a time that is why it is not repeated.

I do not know if my return to the past means a new fad or please put it back into the cardboard box!, but whatever will I wear it and look in the mirror before making a decision. Anyway there are not many options after that. May not be fashionable is not as bad as it seems ...

So start this year without any expectations. I'll see if I am surprised over the days, or just moving as if he had nothing else to do.

Life ... I expect nothing from you or your life. Not one you want, not a goodbye, let alone a whispered I love you under the moonlight. Today I do not expect anything from you. Neither today, nor tomorrow, nor the 362 days which remain before the 2012 I slapped his face.

.

.

2010 dismissal you! ... You and 2011 ... with a "hello" will be more than good.

LE

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"She already found a future without me ...

... and I am only a past without it"

.

.

.

.

(phrase found in a diary of a man who knows no love. Or at least he did not know love when due.

say that years later realized that freedom accompanied by the solitude was not so good. But when she opened her eyes and felt the emptiness of his heart it was too late.

She had gone on one or embracing another man. And although at times it reminded ... I could never love again.

escuesen wounded hearts and salt before kissing the past. It is best to leave the wound to heal with time and distance. Although more than once a patch has been good enough.

Luckily everything tends to heal, or gangrene, but infects the body and destroys it. Killing without mercy.

Another thing I say stories)

LE

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In the middle of nowhere Rose was born very weak ... just and could give life, they bear the icy winter winds. He was born in a place where the spring barely touch the ground. After a couple of winters, proud, caring for her little button, a beautiful ebony button.

spring arrives and finally blossomed, slowly opening its petals, black as the terrible darkness.

The rose was strange the heat of the sun's rays, was born in the icy depths of the night, his soul was a stormy, starless sky ...

Those who come to it feel the cold around your environment, your face is cold like oblivion, in the blackness of its petals lose many souls, their dark out moans and sobs.

In spring, the rose looks at the sky, then falls in love with a star and remains so beautifully pensive and sad until dusk, when the pain of his spirit shades and look at the top of clarity and calm .

Someone cut roses, white roses, red roses and far away, in the most arid, go to the black rose, goes to her, and turns around, cut the other roses ... "While there are roses ..." he thinks.

Go the distance to the black rose its thorns but not forgive, comes and goes and Fly the black rose as mobs of black pain butterflies.

Winter came and stripped the trees. Froze the winds that reached the black rose.

The icy wind carries their whispers, her voice seems weak to pronounce words of love do not come from his lips and laughs that brighten your soul. The cold wind hurts your black petals one by one they fall, mingling with the air of winter ... and yet another winter resistant.

The winter gives way to a new spring. Many have stopped at the darkness of their petals, waiting for a ray of light arise within them. They wanted to see it shining and lost in time.

After a long winter finally died, alone, without anyone to share her perfume, no one contemplated the nostalgic merry dark.

Nobody knew he had a heart that never questioned him ..

(do not know the author)

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was easy to forget between mirrors painted black. The face and not reflected, and thus it was impossible to tell the darkness of her hair in contrast to former glory. I wanted to mourn, but did not know why that was. Some echo of his head he shouted something she should know, should feel ... but did not feel. It did not matter how hard I tried reflected in the mirror to find the lost, because even though it sank, there was no way to reconnect with what once was and now he had disappeared. She had painted mirrors with a thick brush and a can of paint. I knew at that time that the giant might be tempted to try again when they had left behind, and so decided to avoid all memory eliminanto it with a layer of black paint. And it had been, because even focus their eyes in the mirror I could not see anything but the even lines left by the brush.

.

.

Songs "?.

Yes, some grumbling from the sky

"Images?.

Poor mostly Thanks to Allah did not say anything beyond its pixels

Kisses "?.

was machinery. Lips, perhaps tongue, and saliva sweet.

Butterflies "?.

had hovered too far away and never return.

.

.

could

Because swallows return every spring, but she was gone. And his heart had gone with her.

.

. LE

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The seven streets ... Bilbo

Bilbao's name comes from BIL-VAO , which means fordable area, as was the area with less depth of the channel of Nervión river.

was founded in 1300 by D. Diego López de Haro V, in Valladolid. In 1317 María Díaz de Haro forced Orduña the road between Bilbao and Bermeo pass by, displacing Bermeo as the main port for the export of English wool.

In 1571 after several floods and a major fire, the walls were demolished to allow expansion of the city. In 1602 it became the capital of Vizcaya, a title he held until then Bermeo. In 1937 it was capital of the autonomous state of Euskadi ephemeral.

Seven bustling streets ...

Somera, Artecalle, would tend, Belosticalle, Old Butchery, Barrencalle, Barrencalle Auger and The Round is a cluster of seven streets that gave birth to Bilbao.

were walled and grew around the cathedral of Santiago, patron of the villa. The pilgrims who chose the sea route to arrive at Compostela, made a stop in the village. As a pilgrim again, the Virgen de Begoña also sought refuge in the shelter of the walls.

"In late 1836 - Manuel Basas account - the year of the siege of Bilbao by the Carlist, which endangered the sanctuary of the Mother of God of Begoña, which was half destroyed and that the image itself was in danger of being lost in the explosions of war, was lowered to the church of St. James, where he was, covered and beleaguered as the rest of Bilbao, until his release on Christmas Day, by Espartero.

remained installed in the family chapel Barrenechea, which then put a picture as a souvenir of this unforgettable stay in Santiago, which lasted until August 1, 1841, he returned to rise, procession, until the restored temple. "

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have written in your heart Bilbao half story. At number 10, Round Street, the September 29, 1864 came into the world Miguel de Unamuno. On the street Bidebarrieta born Admiral Mazarredo, the writer Luis de Castresana, when he wanted to be a painter, set up his studio in a garret Artecalle, and so many poets, writers and bohemians sought a place to dream among the old roofs of the village.

currently part of the Basque intellectual life has its corner meeting each other in this lifetime Bilbao. Txikiteros also have chosen this area as a sanctuary. Each two-door is a bar and delicious freshly cooked kebabs.

tradition is so crews every year txikiteros his feast is celebrated and paid tribute to the sweet joys ethylic the Virgin of Begoña. Pleasure with the holy water-water Bilbao call the champagne-the locals are a sacred rite.

In front of those seven blocks, between two bridges that link the town hall and the sandy ... I was born.

think one of my earliest memories is one of those evenings when it was sunny y. .. I sat down to play in the gazebo. The seven streets along with the river that separated us, is one of those memories that will remain engraved in the memories with ...

remember those walks in the sand by the river, with the bike and my cousins, shopping Santiaguito (marshmallow candy) ... I have few pictures of that area as we were growing up, and then ... with the crew of txikiteo and tops, celebrating the big week, San Blas, Easter ... The mud removed

whole crew in that flood of 83 between tears and laughter to all be together here by taking a hand where we could ...

These images of the seven streets of my botxito are for me one of the most beautiful parts of my life ...

I leave a video of a ride through the streets, with a good mix, the book fair, my bilbo, y. .. a good blues, who could ask for something better? only one .... be there!

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Generation of the 60 ... Our Generation

For sip ... belong to that generation born in the midst of all but not for anything specific highlight ..

Waking in the 60, but did not give us time to belong to the generation 'baby boom', the flowers, the hippies had grown up and instead of seeking peace and love, seeking work and therefore ... they ran out of fun.

hear talk of the party buffet but we were young to attend, or we catch the tail.

We are the sandwich generation, through it all, but yes, we ate it the whole transition.

With the new curricula, overcrowded school, we ate the first time of crisis, and we were the first standing

We'd run the school, with our packs full of Alpine and Rio, and of course gum with 'cream' that we could not miss and the chiripitiflauticos merendabamos. We

the last of that population explosion between 40 and 60, which economically speaking, will reach retirement or when there are no plans or anything to survive because we are a burden to the state ...

We find the latest technology in the middle of our path and we had no choice but to fight with it and assume it to our lives without any preparation ...

And amid all this, still here ... Passing through a second period of unemployment, not knowing if we stay for a long retirement to work, trying to make our children become independent and live your life, but if they know they have the independence we wanted us but ... without the financial burden, that's what daddies ... in finss ...

40-50 years now to join our social security contributions also because we belong, by education, yet this generation railroad that he could not raise his voice to parents, and the house was they said and you had to follow the rules, in which the responsibility for our elders instilled in us the fire, and now we are in the midst of the children do not want to leave yet ... enter our parents.

has not been easy, our groundbreaking or link generation or sandwich or you please call to have taken the best of 40 and 50, has been implemented under the premise .... hit-error and has been doing for generations 80-90 whole human beings.

**

a veil to the music but the introduction of item ... worth seeing, so yes, let no volume, ejemmmm

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often enough ....

often enough to be:

arm wrapping,

Word consoles, Silent

respects,

spread Joy, Tears

run, petting
Look, I hope that satisfies
,
Love that promotes ...

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Until today ....... Murua Kepa

And I have nothing better

to look out the window

existence in hands

that people train interiors.

Hoping commonplace,

I have known more than the hours

drawing nudes in time.

Better to have but have not returned.

It unless the city had as the day

an ephemeral sense. Women

streets and save it

bridges grew at the same

frost walls. And from the windows

meat could catch air.

-minded young eyes

outdoors, birds were

or watches the game on the floor wing. Loving

slowly ...

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mountaineer of Dreams: A Tribute to Antonio Vega

Antonio Vega

The large drop us do something more than a year, that May 12 was all felt that part of our music and it would be difficult for someone to take his place.

After last time you realize it was not necessary to occupy, if not just remember.

Several artists have shared this idea and have participated in "The Climber Of Dreams: A Tribute to Antonio Vega", a tribute album in which musicians of the stature of Bunbury, Iván Ferreiro, Amaral, The Planets, Sidonie ... etc musician performs songs

The album will be released next October 26 and will have the following tracklist ...


-Combat Of Giants (Zahara and Santi Balmes) Carry
He was leaving (Sidonie and Anni B Sweet)
-Stations (Bebe and Shinoflow)
-tenths of a second (Bunbury)
-Chasing Shadows (Zoe)
-Elixir Of Youth (Shuarma)
-I Want Better ( The Planets)
-winning smile (Napoleon Solo)
-the site of my Leisure (Marlango)
-Waiting For Nothing (Lori Meyers)
-Treasures (LA and Nena Daconte)
-Disorderly Room (Ivan Ferreiro)
-The Girl From Yesterday (Irma La Dulce)
"My Home In Any Site (Depedro and Calexico)
-Back (Amaral)

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by: Nerissa Leone

Let me be a part of you ...

of nowhere that dwells in your breast.

Del pain in your soul.

be part of your all

And nothing of your being.

Let me, love you till the end of time.

When the light is extinguished

When darkness is all

And Nothing is absolute.

Let me be all and be all ...

be night and day

be anything that does not crave ...

And be no what you want.

Let me be the shadow that follows your steps ...

Day after day, night after night

Under the clear light of the stars that you praise from the top.

Let me be from now ...

Your everything and your nothing.

be your sin and redemption.

And until the time becomes infinite ...

And the silence is absolute ...

I'll be your light and your darkness.

~§*§~

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Sometimes I forget what it is.
or remove it from my mind.
Yes, my reason.
I do not like feel.
I die inside.
But I can not do it.
"The wise feel?
may only see and understand.
confused emotions the intellect.
definitely feel it is not my thing.
be that much and I'm drowning ...
... I do not know or feel.

Maybe it's something I never learn.

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October 19: Day Breast Cancer ..

English Association Against Cancer held every October 19 the "Day Against Breast Cancer" to appeal to society to this serious problem.

One in 8 women will suffer it but ... every day there are more women who can say they have overcome breast cancer and also have a quality of life very similar to others that have not gone through this disease.

Cause of this advancement in the prevention and treatment of this cancer is early diagnosis and exploration of the self of the breast, as well as the implementation of mammographic screening.

A disc to fight cancer

Coinciding with the World Day Against Breast Cancer, the BMG label also released the album on 19 "Woman," in that work the best female voices of Spain, which is designed to raise funds for the fight against the disease. Tamara, Ana Torroja, Pasión Vega, Niña Pastori, Rosario and Maria Dolores Pradera are some of the artists participating in this project.

us because we put the pink ribbon Breast cancer is unfortunately all too common disease. Because it is no longer a taboo and because each year can reap more lives than AIDS. But above all, to alert you all very well and tell them loud and clear that the only way to stop this epidemic is to early diagnosis and good treatment for cancer.

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When a woman cries ....

When A Woman Cries

When

a

woman cries When a woman cries

can wash your world away When stars

eyes fill

When stars fill her eyes

You never know what to say

did not say a

word

not say anything She do not need your truth or lies

only her in his arms and love

When she cries ...

No more sad song So I apologize

You apologize Even if you do not know who has done wrong

But if you really want to make her happy

sobbing and the sound

only her in his arms and love

When

woman cries Just do not waste your time thinking of what

must say Just put your arms around her
Until the clouds are far

When a woman cries ...

She can tear your world apart

When stars fill her eyes ...

can break the soul of a poor man

And if you find you

crying too Do not let anyone surprise

only her in his arms and love

When she cries ...

She can tear your world apart

When stars fill her eyes ...

can break the heart of a poor man

When the woman cries ...

That girl can wash your world away

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Award "Like your Blog" Knowing

Arkaitz that great pen pal who insists on giving us awards granted to him by their good blogger, and in the background ... you leave that vein masochistic reading ... to be there every day demonstrating the affection we have and good work. Well I'm sorry

Lastanosa, but although no longer keep count of the awards have given me ... still will not catch the ham that both yearn.

I know you will forgive me, but I am vague these days. Total ... I have no favorite makeup, I usually restore the first you rascal, you know ... cover some pores, a little titanlux and run ...

So this prize was split between all aguantáis me and I occasionally you pass by this corner retalero, because the great truth is that ... I award you deserve it more than me, for putting up and read my

A big big kiss to all and thanks again Arkaitz for that corner of yours if it is to nominate in all these awards

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be, knowing how to be ... person ...

There are events in daily life that sometimes bring you memories of childhood.

I thought of words like ... only you and what you always be that ... respect others and yourself.

often laugh at me when I say I need my living space to exist, and have always tried to respect the others, is to feel you're there when you need it, but introduce you to their space without drowning.

But some people do not work that way, you notice it when you're in a place half empty, and you're stuck without contemplation.

People who think your life is so empty if stick to other people can not survive, people who run your life better than yours, perhaps because of them is empty. Perhaps because they work like that insect species living at the expense of other species of life chupópteros?, Energy thieves? ...

not live or let live.

gently enter your life, making friends, opening doors, and when you realize ... you which puppet in their hands, without energy, without living space, and the worst is over ... you lie all the blame.

When you see come ... stay away from them, and if it is late since they already have at your side, ask someone some good scissors and cut all the wires as soon as possible ....

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Lights escape as rays of contention.

Broken Dreams on the sidewalk of a hot day.

Blood poured into a black glass and sharp.

Three strikes on the surface of pale skin.

An echo him opens his eyes and see the destruction of itself.

feel free. Nothing the Moors.

never dreamed again.

And the world turned in a room of mirrors: no images, no forms, no shadows.

LE

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Today

I've loved for good reason. Without reason. I loved her dearly and with lack or excess of it.
I cried for love and laugh through it. I
blinded eyes looking outside, dreaming of laughter outside, feeling an echo imaginary one I love that never existed.
Someone has cried for me, and I brought the tears.
I pronounced names during the morning bath-different names with varying intensity. I wanted to have some, and perhaps (at least someone) wanted to have me.
More than once I said "I miss you." And others I have answered "me too you."

But this time I do not want to find "I love you" dull, bright eyes and caresses false.

Now I refuse to look .

From now wait for someone to find me. What a treasure hunter look under the cloth under the skin under warm bodies under the drops blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

From today I will not look to the side and let go of attachments. And see if some interesting dive under the fabric, under the skin under warm bodies under the drops of blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

From now close my eyes to love and just open my arms to say goodbye kisses, while some adventure with sword and shield of silver is in under the fabric, under the skin under warm bodies under the drops of blood under the salty sweat and sighs of the lung.

"I love the love of sailors kiss and go ..."

And I love the love my heart gives itself.

I just keep shining, waiting like a treasure.

LE

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The waves ....

Sometimes life is so much like sea ...

Waves come and go ... and like the sea, in one of those waves, you find people and run happy, bouncy, frothy ... Other

with temper and abruptly ....

Sometimes gentle, arriving exhausted at the beach, just to lick the shore and back.

There are people taking relaxing, or soothing, or something even stronger to continue. To me, that is produced by the sea. Their sound, smell, taste, its moisture ... acting on me like a battery charger.

very day, coming down the boardwalk, I could not escape the luxury of putting off my shoes and my feet in the sand, that was my first intention, and I ended up walking along the shore, wet pants, and shoes in hand ...

And of course .... mp3 with this song I put here is not my Biscay, so often missed, nor the Mediterranean, which I have the privilege of living is the Atlantic Ocean, mighty and brave as few .. . All seas have their charm, but ... green color that makes you my Cantabrian with that power you have, not change it for any ....

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More than a year ...

already more than a year that some crazy Internet, we decided to open a blog, and ... here we .

Since that ... things have changed, but the friendship continues.

We have changed ... things in life, day by day. But the ties that began this journey, there are still, and know that real luxury is still there ... your right next and that although they have their problems, You are always giving encouragement and aide you need, trying to get you a smile when they walk on the verge of tears or tired ..

Today, after more than a year in these parts, and three years of knowledge, I have to admit I'm a little person more fortunate than to have legal people to a fault, with a huge fund at all times ... B & G

For all these times, and all those smiles that got me out every day ... It loves you, and much, what you know ....

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Txalaparta ...

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resumes ...

resumes ...

travel again

flying with my mind numb

on sun-drenched fields,

raging seas by the wind,

on the mane of the clouds under a blue sky.

resumes ...

run to you again

magic wings on my feet

with thick forests of birch,

by mountains of haughty rock immortal

the deserts of the night and the steppes of dawn.

resumes ...

see you again before me with my eyes

spellbound in oak caressing wind,

in the foam of the wave hitting the coast,

on Lake of the pagans where bonfires are lit.

resumes ...

be with you again with our arms linked

for souls to be in this one,

to our hearts love the warm outbreak,

for our lips together and life is based on a kiss.

resumes for waking

this with you again my love,

but meanwhile I'm still single

and lost in doubt.

Myrdhin of

Tirith

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... autumn arrives ...

The nights grow shorter, the mornings are cool, the wind is stronger and the leaves of the trees with these earthy tones ... van carpeting the ground.

is the season I like the clouds will fill the sky, at least in my country.

In which I am now ... the harder you fall into, and lasts less, I always said that in the south there is nothing more than two seasons, summer and winter.

miss my fall, their sepia tones in the sky that color mixed with green lovesick My Cantabrian ... is a feast for the senses.

....

How pervasive is the end of the day in the fall! Ay! Penetrating to pain! For there is in him certain bliss, not less intense vague and there is no more steely edge that of the infinite.

large Delight the eyes drown in the immensity of sky and sea! Solitude, silence, chastity of cerulean incomparable! A candle girl, trembling on the horizon, mimetic, in its smallness and isolation of my existence hopeless, monotonous melody of the waves, all that thinks for me, or me for it, because in the greatness of wandering lost self-presto, think, say, but musically and picturesquely, without quibbling, no syllogisms, without deductions.

Such thoughts, however, and out of me, whether arising from things too quickly charge intensity. The energy in the pleasure creates discomfort and suffering positive. My nerves, tired braces, but vibrations are not shrill, painful.

And now the depth of the sky I am dismayed, I exasperate its clarity. The insensitivity of the sea, immutable show infuriates me ... Ay! Is force ever suffer or escape from eternal beauty? Nature charming, ruthless, always victorious rival, let me! Do not tempt more to my wishes and my pride! The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before falling due.

Charles Baudelaire