Reflexiones Inocuas e Inverosímiles de un Replicante Insomne - Rage

Como siempre que me pasa en la inspiracion o en el miedo, que se pueden tomar como dos caras de la misma moneda, mi cuerpo vibra espásticamente mis manos frias y labios secos. Tengo que sacarme este texto de la mente por que sino va a perderse entre tantas otras cosas que me quedaron por decir.

Facebook es extraño. Un chiquero de fracaso, comentarios idiotas, minas buenas que agregan a todo el mundo con intenciones de roce y nunca te hablan, etc. Miríadas de boludeces que te mandan porque "tkm ;)" (aunque algunas son geniales, como los piropos obreros marxistas). Para una persona que mantiene contacto con aquellos que le importan siempre, es inutil, sólo una faceta mas de la Web 2.0 que paso de adorar la información pura a la adoracion de la persona como un ente en la internet. Y no me van a decir que esto es mentira; el ejemplo mas puro de todo esto son los fotologs, llenos de camwhores que se quedan cortas por que nunca obedecen las reglas de oro. Ni pelan, ni se van a la mierda.

Cada tanto uno se topa con frases interesantes, pero no les da bola. Solo cuando alguien dice precisamente lo que uno mismo piensa hace eones acerca de si mismo algo toca los confines de la mente.

Varias veces he escuchado acerca de la ira, la rabia, como un combustible. Como el mas potente de ellos. Y a veces pienso que es verdad. Como un pequeño carbón blanco, en pleno diafragma, la bronca quema y te lleva a sentirte tanto bien como mal. Solo depende de que quieras sentir. Una mueca feroz, extática a la lluvia fue mi amuleto durante mucho tiempo, y lo sigue siendo. Me hace sentir listo para lo que sea. Encontrarme con alguien que presione todos mis botones a la vez, listo para pelear por lo que yo creo correcto, por lo que se que no debe existir.

La furia bien dirigida puede crear grandes cosas; dejar de ser un "sentimiento destructivo" para ponerte en contacto con el todo, y expandirte.

Solo hay que tantear el carbón. Sentirlo allí.

Usarlo.

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And then the long pulse of Zion Dub.

Future Legend

And in the death
As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare
The shutters lifted in inches in Temperance Building
High on Poacher's Hill
And red mutant eyes gaze down on Hunger City
No more big wheels

Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
Coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of Love-Me Avenue
Ripping and rewrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers
Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
Any day now

The Year of the Diamond Dogs

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Maybe you'll think of me when you are all alone
Maybe the one who is waiting for you
Will prove untrue, then what will you do?

Maybe you'll sit and sigh, wishing that I were near
Then maybe you'll ask me to come back again
And maybe I'll say...


"Maybe."

Estallando Sobre el Océano

She had my head on a plate
With her sweet and sour sauce
She was riding in her car
I was riding on my horse
Neck to neck along the road
Well, I have nothing left to hide
So, what the heck
Firefly cars, women rushing past
The road was long and the race was fast
Gradually I fell behind
It was the blind leading the blind
It was the blind leading the blind

Over the hills, over the prairies
Down in the pampa, up in the tundra
And in Paris in spring. And in old Pekin
And in Katmandu. And in Xanadu
I'm bursting out of the ocean
I'm bursting out of the ocean

Uh,Uh, it was another gas station
Uh,Uh, it was another you
Uh,Uh, it was another gas station
Uh,Uh, it was another you, and that's true
Baby, that's true and that's true
Baby, that's true
Gimme this and gimme that
I've got no need for your sudden attack
Gimme this and gimme that
I've got no need for your bipperty,
Bipperty, bipperty
It's Just my horse and me
It's Just my horse and me
It's Just my horse and me

Over the hills, over the prairies
Up in the tundra, down in la pampa
And in Paris in spring. And in old Pekin
And in Katmandu. And in Xanadu
And in Timbuktu, What?
I'm busrting out of the ocean
I'm bursting out of the ocean
I'm swimming out of the ocean

Shooting out!
Burst out!

Shot Into Eternity

Starved in metropolis
Hooked on necropolis
Addict of metropolis
Do the worm on necropolis
Slamdance cosmopolis
Enlighten the populace

Hooked in necropolis
Girlfriends
Shot into eternity
Methadone kitty
Iron serenity

Strung out committee
The guards are itchy
Broken bottles
Grafted in a jiffy
Strung out committee
Sitting pretty
Grafted in a jiffy
Jean arthur rimbaud
1873
Paris commune
Died in marseilles
Buried in charleville
Shut up in eternity

Guatemala
Honduras
Poland
The hundred years war
Tv rerun invasion
Death squad salvador
Afghanistan
Meditation
Old chinese glue
Kick junk
What else
Can a poor worker do?

-- Allen Ginsberg and The Clash - Ghetto Defender