Pray for humanity.

Hi mum, sorry I cannot come back home today after the concert, see... things got complicated in there, none of us who were dancing and laughing were expecting what happened.
Do you remember when I was a child and you used to decide what kind of clothes should I wear that day? Well... today someone else made the decision for you, for me and for our surrounding.
They have decided that I musn't keep on breathing, that I'm a chosen one to honour someone who is called God. They have decided that you ,from now on, cry  everyday hugging my pijama, and that our relatives had no strenght and no attitude and they didn't feel like celebrating Christmas within a month. They have not want me to sleep in my bed tonight and the thruth is that here on this corner and with my own blood around it's pretty cold... now I miss the soup you make for dinner in winter.
When you begin receiving news about me and my friends you are going to get so sad, and even though you will have not answer, you are going to wonder a thousand times 'why'.
I know I promised you that I would call you when I went out the party, but I have not had time to see the face of the one who was killing me.
It was so noisy, the las thing I have heard before falling to the ground has been my friend screaming, then I don't remember anymore, just a hard pain that made me lose consciousness.
Mum you will be called to identify my corpse, so remember I'm wearing my favorite jacket and that my tattoo is in my right wrist.
Please, don't never forget the sound of my laugh, my fixation for going out with my unmade bed everyday. I know you will miss me and I know I will miss you too. I had no opportunity to tell you how much important you were to me, that's why I let you this message now, because I know you and when it is 11:00 p.m. and I'm not at home you get worried.
I'm so sorry I cannot save yourself this annoyace, I wish I could tell you face to face what I have just seen.
Remember now you must be so strong, more than ever, I will always be by your side.
I will love you forever, mum. Don't be awake waiting for me.

I bet, I bet...

One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet.

One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat.

One of these days the clocks will stop and time won't mean a thing.

One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything.

One of these days your eyes will close and pain will disappear. 

One of these days you will forget to hope and learn to fear.


But easy for you to say..., your heart has never been broken, your pride has never been stolen... not yet.

But one of these days I bet your heart will be broken, I bet your pride will be stolen... I bet, I bet...


One of these days...

you can be whoever you want, even yourself

   

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. 

Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers.

 Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. 

Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. 

Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. 

Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future.

Choose life.

pink socks

It was a Friday night...
she had just arrived home.
She had spent the whole day with her boy,
they had eaten together,
they had  had a nap,
they had walked the capital city,
the cold,
the snow,
the hot coffee...
all those little things
that had made them remind
they are still alive.

Tonight she is just remembering,
laying on her bed,
with her favourite pink socks,
the person who had told her
'You are also mine next Sunday'
is, probably, the best person
she could have had by her side.

And that is all she can dream when she sleeps with her favourite pink socks.

·MAN ON THE EDGE·

Despite all those men who tried to talk to Danny they couldn't stop him. 
Danny, that man who was  fired and left by his girlfriend, decided to jump from the balcony of his hotel's bedroom. Everybody around the hotel was watching that kind of 'drama show' he was starring, there was a lot of traffic and the city was crowded that morning, perfect moment to light up a cigarette and stop to think about it but he was seeing himself over, so he finished his cigarette and jump. While he was falling, he opened his eyes and regretted about the fall. In that moment he desired whit all his energies not to die and closed his eyes again but suddenly something fantastic happened... he was on the top, on the edge as if God had made Danny return up there, as if it all had been a miracle...

so here I am...

https://youtu.be/CvtJVku_mJw

I've been here before a few times and I'm quite aware we're dying, and your hands they shake with goodbyes and I'll take you back if you'd have me...  so here I am I'm trying, so here I am, are you ready?
Come on let me hold you, touch you, feel you always. Kiss you, taste you all night, always...
And I'll miss your laugh your smile, I'll admit I'm wrong if you'd tell me; I'm so sick of fights, I hate them... lets start this again for real... so here I am I'm trying, so here I am, are you ready?

Contrasting types of music.

On the one hand, 'punk' or also called 'punk rock' was born in 1970. It owns an independent and amateur attitude.

 The guitars are characterised by a noisy and agressive background. In the picture we can see Johnny Rotten, singer from the English band 'Sex Pistols.'

On the other hand, we see Rostropovich a Russian man who plays 'classical music',

 a kind of soft music where the artists want to represent the perfect, natural and balanced beauty that the classical mussic has.