#ray fuego

[innytoes]

For the generated AUs, I got Supernatural Is Known AU + Orphanage AU ^^

Okay but Caleb Covington's Home For Extraordinary Orphans. He's not exactly evil, but after 20-plus years of dealing with everything from mermaids to were-elephants, he is Grumpy.

The Molinas always wanted a big family. Most Werewolves do. Something about a big pack just makes them happy. Not all of them turn, Julie and Victoria don't, but Rose, Ray, and Carlos do. (There have been So Many Arguments in the past about Carlos chewing on Julie's shoes.)

Except Rose found out that after her cancer, she wouldn't be able to have any more kids. They'd been trying for some time but hadn't had any more after Carlos, and now there was no more chance to have any at all. They mourn for a year, before talking it over as a family and deciding that pack is pack and they don't need to be blood related to be family. When Julie is fourteen and Carlos is ten, they finally get approved to adopt.

Victoria goes with them, if only to make sure they don't 'bite off more than they can chew'.

They meet a lot of kids, and just like Victoria expected, they want to take home Everyone. She has to be the voice of reason that no, they do not have a big enough back yard to convert into a lake to adopt that mermaid girl. And adopting Willie, the raccoon shifter, was a terribly unsafe idea because Carlos still hadn't learned to control his chasing-prey instinct. Do they not remember the ordeal with the Henderson's cat?

Eventually, Carlos and Julie come running up to their parents, dragging just about the palest young boy Rose has ever seen.

"Mami, this is Reggie!" Carlos proudly proclaims. "He likes dogs and music and pizza so he has to be our big brother."

Reggie is a sixteen year old vampire who is just grateful he got turned after he was allowed to drive. It's better than being fourteen for the rest of his (after)life, that would be rough. Oh shoot sorry Julie. It gets better, he promises.

Ray and Rose are just so charmed by Reggie and the way he naturally fell into a big brother role for Julie and Carlos that they decide yes, they will adopt a sixteen year old vampire. No they do not care that he won't age. Once he actually matures mentally into adulthood (which vampires do, just a lot slower than than humans) they will help him get emancipated.

Victoria is not there to talk them out of it. Victoria, in fact, is in Caleb's office, getting the paperwork done to adopt Willie.

("What? I said it was dangerous for him to be around Carlos until he gets his prey instinct under control during the full moon. I don't turn, my prey instinct is fine! The only thing I hunt is a good bargain.")

So they take Reggie and Willie home, and things are great. Willie and Reggie were friends at the orphanage, they get together for Family Dinners every Friday except on Full Moons, everything is great. Reggie fits in really well and admits that even before he was turned ten years ago, he didn't have a great family, so having two parents that care about him is really nice.

Except sometimes Reggie acts in a way that can't be attributed to being a vampire, or adopted, or maybe a little traumatised from spending ten years in an orphanage run by a grumpy werepanther. He zones out, and sometimes he talks to himself, or laughs at nothing. Ray and Rose love Reggie, and are fully willing to support their new son and all his quirks (Ray immediately started learning about Star Wars when he realised Reggie was obsessed), but they also want to make sure this isn't anything mental illness related that will hurt him.

So they talk about getting Reggie evaluated, about asking Doctor Turner if she has any recommendations for therapists who specialise in vampirism... But Reggie overhears them.

And then Rose overhears Reggie. Talking to himself in his room again. Except this time it's not under his breath.

"No dude, don't worry about it. I'll just... I'll make something up. I mean, you've always said that I might be autistic, maybe we can just... Nobody's going to find out and send you back, I promise."

Which is of course when Rose pushed open the door before adopting a now Very Familiar Pose to Reggie. The Mom Pose. Hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

The boy on Reggie's bed slowly started going invisible again, and Rose pointed at him. "Don't you dare!"

He stops fading out of view. He looks to be about Reggie's age.

"Can you just turn invisible, or are you a ghost?" Rose asks. "Because if I find out you've been letting someone go hungry under our roof, Reginald, you are grounded, mister."

"I'm a ghost," the boy in the bed said. "I'm so sorry, it's just that, you were taking Reggie, and your sister was taking Willie, and they're all I have and I just couldn't stay there and I'm so so sorry..."

The more he talks the more solid he looks and Rose is not sure if that's a good thing or not, so she just interrupts him. "Right, we need to call Caleb right now."

"No, don't send him back!" Reggie said. "Send me back instead, please, you'll love Alex, he's great, he's funny and cool and he likes music and pizza too. I mean he can't eat it anymore but-"

"We're not sending anyone back," Rose promises, wrapping Reggie in a hug and hovering a hand near Alex' shoulder. "But we do have to arrange some paperwork so Ray and I don't get brought up on any kidnapping charges, alright?"

[emvisual]

Esta es una versión del libro Fahrenheit 451 de Ray Bradbury. Es una versión sensible al calor. Al contrario que en la novela, cuando se calienta aparece el texto.

[somosorigen]

Pósters Oficiales: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja MarcasPósters Oficiales:

Continue reading Pósters Oficiales: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja MarcasPósters Oficiales:

[laberinticababilonia]

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

[esuemmanuel]

It is not sadness when I write… it is nostalgia when I look at what I am today and what I will never be again. It is to see my soul stained, broken and extinguished, without the fire that burned it when I took the pen and, on the page, devoured it. It is to find myself so alone, under a sorrowful moon, without a ray of light, without a drop of madness, without a flower to be moistened by the thirst of my fingers or lips to name my silences with desire. I am finished. I'm sorry.

No es tristeza al escribir… es nostalgia al mirar lo que hoy soy y lo que ya no seré jamás. Es verme con el alma mancillada, rota y apagada, sin el fuego que la quemaba al tomar la pluma y, en la hoja, devorarla. Es encontrarme tan solo, bajo una luna apesadumbrada, sin un rayo de luz, sin una gota de locura, sin una flor que se humedezca por la sed de mis dedos ni unos labios que nombren con deseo mis silencios. Estoy acabado. Lo siento.

[mizu-chin]

Yes My Lord "The Hidden Song"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The morning was calm at the Phantomhive mansion. The sun began to rise on the horizon, casting golden rays through the tall windows, creating a spectacle of light and shadow in the elegant corridors. It was early, and the mansion was enveloped in an almost sacred silence. S/n, who had been awake for some time, was in the armory room, cleaning her daggers.

With meticulous movements, she slid the cloth over the blades, making them shine under the soft light. As she worked, she began to sing softly, almost without noticing. Her voice, clear and melodious, filled the room with the lyrics of the song.

"Cae la noche, me está buscando Hay luna llena y las loba' estamo' cazando Caí en el party, humo volando Di un par de paso' y vi que me estabas mirando..."

Sebastian, always attentive, was passing through the corridor near the armory. The sound of S/n's voice caught his attention, making him stop. He silently approached the slightly open door, curious and enchanted. He had never heard S/n sing before, and the softness of her voice combined with the intensity of the lyrics surprised him.

"Oh, te acercaste y me pediste Fuego pa' encenderte un blunt Ni lo pensé Te lo saqué de la boca, lo prendí y te dije que..."

She sang with a passion and rhythm that Sebastian did not expect. The words flowed naturally, and he could feel the emotion in each verse. There was something captivating in the way she moved, even while performing a simple task like cleaning her daggers. He stood there, immobile, almost hypnotized by the scene.

"Detrás del humo no se ve, no, no se ve Acerquémono' un poquito, que te quiero conocer Te lo muevo en HD, un perreo HP Una hora, dos botellas y directo pa'l hotel..."

Sebastian entered the room silently, his steps inaudible. He leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on S/n. She was so immersed in the music that she did not immediately notice his presence. He observed her every movement, from the way she cleaned the daggers to how her lips moved as she sang. There was a natural sensuality and strength in her performance that left him fascinated.

"Dá calor quando chega perto de mim Que vontade de sentar em você Faz aquele jeito do macentin' Mírame, y hágale Por trás da fumaça tu sarra em mim Tomamos três goles de prazer Olha nos olhos, olha nos ojos, ah..."

S/n finally noticed Sebastian's presence when she lifted her gaze and saw him watching her. She abruptly stopped singing, a look of surprise crossing her face.

"Sebastian," she said, putting the dagger aside. "I didn't know you were there."

He smiled softly, stepping out of the shadows. "Forgive me for interrupting, Miss S/n. Your voice is... enchanting. I didn't know you could sing."

She shrugged, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It's just something I like to do to pass the time. It helps me relax."

"I must say, it was a pleasant surprise," he commented, approaching her. "The lyrics of the song are quite... intense."

S/n laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Yes, it's a song I like. It has an energy that makes me feel alive." Sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze intense.

"You have many talents, S/n. Every day I discover something new about you." She looked at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of challenge and curiosity. "And you, Sebastian? Do you ever allow yourself to be surprised?"

He smiled enigmatically. "Rarely. But I must admit, you manage to do so more than most." There was a palpable tension between them, something that went beyond words. Sebastian, always controlled and calculating, felt something new and disconcerting.

S/n, for her part, perceived a vulnerability in him that she had never seen before. She stepped closer, her eyes fixed on his. "Perhaps you should allow yourself to be surprised more often. It can be... invigorating."

He tilted his head, the smile still present, but his eyes showing a depth of emotion he rarely revealed. "Perhaps you're right, S/n. Perhaps I should."

In that moment, the invisible barrier that existed between them began to dissolve. It wasn't just attraction or mutual respect, but something deeper. A recognition that, despite their differences, there was something that connected them in a way they were both still learning to understand. As the sun continued to rise in the sky, casting a golden glow over them, S/n and Sebastian stood in silence, a mutual understanding growing between them. It was the beginning of something new, something that promised to change not only the dynamics between them but also the very essence of the Phantomhive mansion.

[little-ars0n]

Good Morning

Houston, Texas.

It was early morning. A wide bed with white sheets as soft as silk itself, fluffy starched pillows and the smell of feminine perfume all over the bedroom with a big picture window where you can see the city. The sun rays coming through the window and illuminating Annabelle's peaceful and pretty face. She suddenly woke up, her eyes opened slowly until she let out a soft yawn. She was alone, but by the way the sheets look wrinkled on the other side of the bed, it was obvious that someone was sleeping with her before.

She sat on the edge of the bed, fixing her messy red hair for a few seconds, and then finally got on her feet. It was hot outside, so she was wearing a baggy t-shirt with nothing else but her panties. She was putting on her slippers when suddenly she started to hear music outside, so she opened the door to see what was happening. The first thing she saw was Aracely sweeping the entrance while hearing the music playing, she didn't recognized the song, but could understand some words of it. "Fuego" fire. "Agua" water. "Castillo" castle. And more.

She kept walking, now going to the kitchen. She started hearing a voice... a deep, hoarse voice, singing. When she got there, she peeked through the doorway.

Kaine, turning his back while doing breakfast. Annabelle could see his broad and muscular back, with some scars on his skin. Some simple grey pants kept him from being half-naked. As he sang...

Soy el fuego que arde tu piel

Soy el agua que mata tu sed

El castillo, la torre yo soy

La espada que guarda el caudal

Tú, el aire que respiro yo

Y la luz de la luna en el mar

La garganta que ansío mojar

Que temo ahogar de amor

Y cuáles deseos me vas a dar, oh

Dices tu, mi tesoro basta con mirarlo

Y tuyo será, y tuyo será...

Since when Kaine learned how to pronounce spanish so well?, spending time with Aracely has his benefits.

When Kaine noticed Annabelle's presence, he turned around and looked at her with a slightly serious face.

"Good morning. I made breakfast."

[mgstappie]

The SMIB x TNO Fest 2024, held on August 10th in Amsterdam, was a major success, bringing together the hip-hop culture and streetwear community in a vibrant celebration. Organized by SMIB and The New Originals, the festival featured a diverse lineup, showcasing both emerging and established artists across multiple stages, each drawing a unique crowd.

In addition to the music, there was a strong emphasis on food, fashion, and art, with exclusive merchandise that added to the festival's unique atmosphere. A highlight was seeing Jacin Trill live, who electrified the audience with the announcement of Happyland 3. Appiemusssa and Brunzyn delivered high-energy performances that had the crowd dancing and jumping, while Ray Fuego, Tads Thots, GRGY, and Yung Nnelg perfectly closed the event with some classic hits. The sunny weather and vibrant energy further solidified this festival as a staple in the Dutch urban scene.

(@smibtnofest) • Instagram-foto’s en -video’s

[gatutor]

Barbara Rush-Sterling Hayden "Pluma de fuego" (Flaming feather) 1952, de Ray Enright.

[innytoes]

Inny rewatches JATP 4-6

Episode 4:

-Okay so this school has: a swim team (mentioned at the rally) and lacrosse team, cheerleaders, special FURRY cheerleaders, and a marching band. Dances in the middle of the week. Who the fuck is funding this school?

-I've decided I'm going full rarepair and I ship Nick with That Poor Boy Whose Sticks Julie Steals.

-When the boys write Hello Bobby on the mirror, the y has the little Sunset Curve swoop.

Episode 5:

-Willie enjoying the show while also saying hi to all his ghost club coworker pals never stops being good.

-Having fun going through the parts I've matched a million times and noticing all the little details. Did you know the bottoms of Caleb's shoes are shiny purple? I can just see him at his desk with a bottle of shimmering nail polish.

-Also spotted some some ladies dancing together. Dante and Fuego have competition. Let's go lesbians!

-The tiniest little nod when Alex asks Caleb to let Willie know he was looking for him and you're like: GAY ACCEPTANCE. HE'S BEEN WHERE YOU ARE. MY FEELS.... and then like 5 seconds later you're reminded Caleb is still a soulstealing evil bastard.

Episode 6:

-Still not over who the hell planned a dance on a school night. Julie missed THREE CLASSES? And then all those people going to Carrie's after party... I'm sure she wasn't the only one who overslept.

-Luke and his sadness flannel and the chocolate cake and I'm not crying my eyes are just sweating.

-Ray you know I love you but babe what is that hat. Please, sir. No.

-Also it is my personal belief that Ray went to Eats and Beats to see Carrie because he knows her fucking dad won't and even though she and Julie aren't friends anymore he wants there to be an adult who supports her.

[somosorigen]

Póster Oficial: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja Marcas

[agendaculturaldelima]

#Poesia #AmigosInolvidables

📣 FESTIVAL EMBISTE #3 📜✒🐂💜

💥 Lecturas de poesía y microrrelatos con la participación de poetas y narradores locales y de provincia en escena, presentaciones de libros y sorteos.📇📕📚

© Producción: La poesía embiste.

📝 PROGRAMA:

📆 Jueves 04 de Julio

🕖 7:30pm.   

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Andrea Castillo, Eduardo Borjas, Milagros Chávez, David de Soto, Quilev Ray, Daniel Escudero y Cristhian Cárdenas

  🏫 Casa Astarté (pasaje García Calderón 111 - Centro de Lima)

📆 Viernes 05 de Julio

🕖 7:30pm.

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Ivonne Bernuy, Juan de la Fuente, Marianela Garrido, Miguel Cotrina, Malú Cabezas, Andrea Jara y Paola de la Jara

📖 Presentación del Libro: “DANZAN LAS AVES” 💃🐦

✍️ Autoría: Lenyan Veka

🎤 Comentarios: Diego Bardález

🎶 Música: Mika Stonem.

📆 Sábado 06 de Julio

🕡 6:30pm.

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Teresa Orbegoso, Verónica Torres, Emilia Chávez, Marie Linares, James Quiróz, Carlos Rosales, Helmut Jerí, Andrea Castillo, César Olivares, Renato Salas y Marco Quijano

📖 Presentación del Libro: "Mujeres en Fuego [Antología Poética]" de María Antonieta Tejada (Arequipa), Gloria Mendoza Borda (Puno), Eldi Toro( Lima), Gabriela Cuba (Lima), Isabel Sabogal ( Lima), Marita Palomino( Lima), Leda Quintana (Lima), Edith Vega Centeno ( Cusco), Katherine Estrada (Lima), Ana Vera ( Lima), Gimena Vartu ( Lima), Lisset Vera ( Cusco), Alhelí Málaga (Lima), Lenyan Veka ( Cusco), Andrea Angles (Quillabamba), Muki Sabogal ( Cusco), Daniela D. Barrios (Arequipa), Ana Claudia Moca ( Chiclayo), Sandra L. Calsín (Juliaca), Nelly Patricia Mamani ( Cusco), Frida Loy Tice( Puno), Luz Dávila( Lima) y Yuliana D. Luque (Juliaca).✍️  

🎤 Comentarios: Lenyan Veka, Gimena Vartu y Katherine Estrada.

📘 Editorial Fuego

🏡 Restaurante Cultural Tierra Baldía (av. Del Ejército 847 – Miraflores).

📌 JORNADAS:

 📆 Del 04 al 06 de Julio

🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂️ Ingreso libre.

[makoche]

He estado jugando bastante UUBL aprovechando que está disponible y he estado intentando crear (con resultados... mixtos) un equipo de Stall centrado en Lanturn+Scizor.

Soy un gran fan de Lanturn en ADV, resistir tanto hielo como agua y la inmunidad a eléctrico le permiten ser básciamente imparablecontra determinados atacantes especiales. Con una naturaleza modesta y con los EVs al máximo se vuelve una cañón muy respetable, yendo el resto dedicados a defensa especial. Su gigantesca vida permite esta distribución, de forma similar a Blissey. Con Toxic+Protect+Leftovers y la ausencia de arena en UU la cantidad de ocasiones en las que puede entrar, ser intocable, curarse un 12% y forzar daño a través de Spikes le hacen una muy buena opción. También se puede cambiar Toxic por algún otro ataque según las necesidades del equipo (notablemente Hydro Pump o Ice Beam). También puedes liarla con Confuse Ray, si es lo que te gusta. Los atacantes mixtos pueden darle problemas eso sí.

Hay demasiado Dragonite, así que de envenenar se encargan otros.

Encargado de la parte física está Scizor, que funciona de lujo en UUBL por un simple motivo: resiste los numeros atacantes de tipo normal que abundan en UU (como Kanghaskan o Tauros) sin miedo de abosrber un Earthquake. Los tipo fuego más notables son Houndoom y Entei; el primero no te hace nada y el segundo no está por la labor de entrar y comerse un Toxic. También tiene Morning Sun. Lo cual es muy sorprendente. Los 8PP definitivamente se tienen que tener en cuenta, pero es curación consistente. Lamentablemente no es compatible con Baton Pass y el resto de sus movimientos son un tanto... mediocres. Yo tiro de Return y HPGround, que saliendo de un ataque base de 130 no está nada mal. HPFighting es también una opción muy buena, peeeero me da miedo Misdreavus. No es imbatible ni mucho menos, y pokémons con Guts como Hariyama o Ursaring no tendrán miedo a entrar, pero para eso está el resto de tu equipo.

Siempre relegado a Baton Pass, este cambio le sienta muy bien si me preguntas.

A ver, no soy ningún experto ni mucho menos, y de hecho no he conseguido buenos resultados aún, pero este núcleo defensivo es bastante potente y creo que se puede combinar de diversas formas y hacerse un hueco en todo tipo de equipos. El objetivo de este post no es otro que el de, tal vez, despertar algo de interés en estos dos Pokémons de nicho en un formato todavía más de nicho. Además son chulísimos, me vas a decir que no.

[esuemmanuel]

A diario se me recuerda de alguna manera lo extraño que soy para este mundo; lo diferente, lo único, lo ajeno. Cada día el universo me hace abrir los ojos con dolor y sorpresa ante la realidad de lo que es ser un ser humano; ese ente material, sujeto a la tangilibilidad y propenso a las leyes universales de la física. Me duele ¿sabes? Me duele lo que me hace ver la realidad. Me duele darme cuenta de lo raro que soy. Me duele tener el mal de la imaginación, del sentimiento, de la emoción... Me duele amar lo intangible y trabajar para traerlo al papel en la palabra escrita. Me duele tener presente que soy más que un pedazo de carne que se mueve, que piensa, que respira... ¿Que por qué me duele? ¡Porque no hay nadie como yo! ¡No hay nadie, puta madre, como yo! No hay nadie que cierre los ojos y busque ver el alma... No hay nadie que abra las manos y se entregue ciegamente a la palabra... No hay nadie que olvide su nombre, su cuerpo, su apellido, su casa para perderse en la plenitud de lo incorpóreo, en eso que sólo puede ser visto con los ojos del espíritu... ¡No, no hay nadie, carajo! Estoy solo en este mundo... He estado solo desde que nací, porque nací enfermo... Nací enfermo de luna, de aire, de éter, de sueños, de imaginación y de irrealidad. ¡Me duele! ¡Oh, me duele! Y nadie, claro que nadie, lo va a poder entender, porque no son yo... No tienen en los ojos las nubes del cielo ni en las manos las plumas de las aves... No tienen en el pecho el latido de una fuente que no deja de verterse en agua... No tienen en el plexo el fuego del mañana, de ese sol que arde buscando quemar con sus rayos la oscuridad que me castra... Me duele ser un alma que no sabe ser un cuerpo, que no sabe ser un nombre, que no entiende de necesidades físicas ni materiales... No hay día que el mundo no me lo recuerde y me haga sentir un alienígena... He querido aprender a ser humano, pero, fallo... Siempre fallo... Porque mi alma no fue hecha para este mundo y eso, carajo, duele aceptarlo.

Every day I am reminded in some way of how strange I am to this world; how different, how unique, how alien. Every day the universe makes me open my eyes with pain and surprise at the reality of what it is to be a human being; that material entity, subject to tangibility and prone to the universal laws of physics. It hurts me, you know? It hurts me what makes me see reality. It hurts me to realize how rare I am. It hurts me to have the evil of imagination, of feeling, of emotion... It hurts me to love the intangible and to work to bring it to paper in the written word. It hurts me to keep in mind that I am more than a piece of flesh that moves, that thinks, that breathes, because there is no one like me! There is no one, motherfucker, like me! There is no one who closes his eyes and looks for the soul… There is no one who opens his hands and gives himself blindly to the word… There is no one who forgets his name, his body, his surname, his home to lose himself in the fullness of the incorporeal, in that which can only be seen with the eyes of the spirit… No, there is no one, damn it! I am alone in this world… I have been alone since I was born, because I was born sick…. I was born sick of moon, of air, of ether, of dreams, of imagination and of unreality. It hurts me! Oh, it hurts me! And nobody, of course nobody, will be able to understand it, because they are not me…. They do not have in their eyes the clouds of the sky, nor in their hands the feathers of birds…. They do not have in their chest the beat of a fountain that never stops pouring water…. They do not have in the plexus the fire of tomorrow, of that sun that burns seeking to burn with its rays the darkness that castrates me…. It hurts me to be a soul that does not know how to be a body, that does not know how to be a name, that does not understand physical or material needs… There is not a day that the world does not remind me of it and makes me feel like an alien… I have wanted to learn to be human, but, I fail… I always fail… Because my soul was not made for this world and that, damn, it hurts to accept it.