Wednesday, August 03, 2005

the traveller

Poets and travellers are angry people because they see the world as whole.
The traveller is the one who speaks with his eyes and sees with his mouth.
He is not afraid of death, just afraid of dying bored.
He likes to be surprised but he is so used to deal with the unexpected that he can only be surprised by himself and the things he can do.
The traveller always finds his own rythm and follows his own pace.
The true traveller behaves like natives and mingles but he carries news from other places and therefore he always changes the places he goes with his presence.The traveller respects the environment cause he know he will die otherwise.
The traveller looks for experience, the tourist for entertainment.
The traveller looks for the process. The tourist looks for achievement.
The traveller enjoys the journey, the tourist prefers the return.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

The immigrant perspective

> face it.
> i am lost in a place of non language
> i am entitled to silence with no rhythm
> i have friends that don't exist
> in a house that doesn't belong to me.
> i am from the sea
> do mar, do existir
> Not a bird with wings or kidneys
> See, my friends say they have no fear and those are
> the ones
> "they" call reals.
> But that ain't one person with no fears.
> Salve Dalai Lama, Bless Him.
> I am not a lyer, but a pretender
> A real one, mind.
> I don't eat fashion
> but I eat meat.
> And I've never killed no one.
> Except mosquitoes...
> Mainly in India.
> I don't believe in politics
> They get all the attention
> What about the poets?
> The poets of no-language
> Don't they get a voice?
> Cause, see, i have a cause
> I got more then one cause
> But most of all my cause is me.
> My freedom.
> My expression.
> And all I want is to communicate
> All we ever wanted was to
> commune
> communicate...and now.....
> we commute to commit
> To see the bridges to our future
> I ain't got a voice
> I ain't got a mirror
> I ain't got make up on...
> Damm it! I forgot my sleepers!
> But I got a job.
> Men! I pay taxes.
> And I feed the state. I feed the wheel...
> And boy....oh! boy!!!
> I can't still express my ass.
> I can't cook for the President.
> Mr.President:
> Yesterday I have eaten fried chicken.
> And I've paid a couple of words.
> Say what? Pounds? Dollars?Euros?
> Who gives a chit?
> All the same. I ended up eating chit
> and I still don't have a voice.
> And I say, oh you, mr.terrorist
> will you kill Bush?
> Will you kill the mother fuckers who raped your wifes?
> Will you kill the bastards that put ideas in your
> minds?
> Will you consider Islam?
> Think about it.
> you.i pay taxes.
> i respect.
> You want my opinion?
> ask me. I'll tell you.
> See my life?
> I'm here cause you made me come here.
> Cause you sold me a dream.
> And made me leave my country.
> Well, thank you.
> Now give me my freedom.
> Do not kill the innocents.
> the immigrants
> -