(Un)Fashion - Book Review

(Un)Fashion – A statement of multiculturalism

A stand for equality screaming from every single corner in the world. A place where humanity gathers, regardless of attire to state

indifference for material divisions.

Where the new black becomes the new yellow, the new brown, and even the new white.

A place where time seems to disappear through the crease of the book. The stiffness of the images leaves no room for time, just space placed in front of us.

Fashion in the form of colors, food, and even cactuses display th

eir uniqueness all over the global catwalk, followed by pieces inspired in women, in armies, in sand from the most remote beach in Oceania; the models carrying a shade of cum cum and color dry coconut powder as an outfit, facial tattoos as makeup and pieces of Amazonian Oak Tree as bobby pins. With bee wax as underwear, flower pigments as moisturizer and a cap opener as pendant.

Some of the ornaments distinguish them from marital status, some from religion and even national identity; some segregate them as tribe members. I still don’t quite understand the point behind all those necklaces, how the fuck!? Do you slee

p with them? Doesn’t that hurt? What about showering with them? If you take them off how far

forward does your head go?

The watch of Sadam Hussein with Arabic numbers, ironically containing a label that says made in Japan, lol.

Last but not least: Confessions from within

Oh, the first love: Pure, sincere, bold, cute, true, imaginary.... utopic

I lived in the land of my own fantasy for five years; a fantasy I came to face in 2008, as I embargoed on my journey back home. For over five years I kept this dream alive and I had to spend over a grand to understand that it wasn't him, it was me....

I don't regret what I did and I certainly do not think less for living in la la land for such a long time. I have learned and moved on.

I came across the last one of the documents from the trilogy of writings from 2008. In the memory of ASCOD aka u2carlos, aka anything I ever wanted before my ex Alejandro.

Mi queridísimo Carlos,

Cuéntame, por que me has robado un trozo de mi vida?

A veces me pregunto, verdaderamente como eres? Hay tantas cosas que aun asi, despues de haberte visto, me intrigan. A veces me gustaria sentarme en una esquina y observar lo que he aprendido de ti y esperar a que llegues y no te des cuenta que he llorado en agonia por tanto tiempo, sin encontrar respuesta alguna.

A veces tambien me pregunto por que apareciste en mi vida? Por que no te puedo comprender? Y por que nunca te podre sacar del sitio donde recides dentro de mi alma? La vida es mas grande de lo que imaginamos y el destino nos pone a prueva innecesariamente para que aprendamos a comprender el por que de nuestra existencia.

Creo que de una manera u otra estoy delatandome… mostrandote algo de mi que nunca podria mostrarte al tenerte frente a mi. me gustaria pensar que lo que vivi contigo todo este tiempo es meramente un sueño que aun no me deja despertar. Y con eso no he dicho suficiente… de solo imaginar verte sonreir al leer estas leves palabras me hace seguir soñando en el idealismo de mi ser.

Dime que he hecho para merecer que me pienses en tus tardes solitarias al fumarte un cigarillo y pensando en el sabor del café que solo se consigue en nuestra tierra. La tierra a la que desafortunadamente deje de pertenecer desde que el destino decidio darme una mejor oportunidad lejos de ti.

A veces se me va la ilucion y las ganas de verte. Sera que nuestra vida ya no es diferente, hacemos todo igual que el resto de la gente. Esas son las cosas que me costaron tanto decirte a la cara. Ahora solo puedo aguantar las muchas ganas de verte. A veces creo que me gustaria ser tan fuerte como tu, es mas solo desearia ser una pequeña porcion de lo que te hace ser tan tu.

Como dice la cancion: mientras no me olvides y dejes nuestros abriles olvidados en el fondo de placard del cuarto de invitados, como en tiempos dorados en donde el pasado siempre sera mejor... Y aunque casi me equivoco y te digo poco a poco no me mientas, no me digas la verdad, no levantes la voz ni me pidas perdon… cuando verdaderamente la que desearia escuchar aquellos reproches soy yo.

Ya ni se que mas te pueda pedir en este instante. Solo quiero que nunca te olvides que te quiero y que te llevo presente desde que ya nace el sol en el ocaso, hasta que las estrellas invaden la noche. Al llegar a mi casa y mirar hacia mi mesa de noche, solo me percato de la mitad que me traje desde Colombia; una mitad tan ajena a mi, significativa pero inconclusa. Una mitad que se sumonta al recuerdo de cada Segundo de las 5:30 de la tarde del 26 de enero del 2008. El instante que me devolveria el alma al cuerpo para arrevatarmela en el instante que parti con rumbo a Miami. Esos ultimos instantes aprendiendo lo que ese destino que clave en mi camino significaria en los minutos a seguir, al continuar mi vida como cualquier dia. Ese sueño del que nunca queria despertar llego a su fin, ancioso de continuar viviendo eternamente dentro de la mas preciada memoria de mi juventud.

Hay momentos en los que solo recuerdo esa conversacion, un dia antes de regresar a mi vida habitual. La conversacion que posiblemente dio conclusion a lo que pensaba encontrar en mi larga jornada, en la que quise recoger mis pasos y en el intento quedaron derramados en sitios tan inalcanzables y llenos de magia, que verdaderamente podria volver a vivir. Quisas lo haria de una manera diferente. Como nos dice Bumbury: Habremos cambiado? Quisas sea peor…

Creo que mi error en esta travesia casi impalpable a mi consistente realidad, fue no haber anticipado verdaderamente lo que me esperaba. Y como me dijiste una noche de cervezas, de una manera muy sabia: No puedes esperar a que el mundo cambie alternamente al mismo tiempo que tu lo haces ya que el mundo no gira entorno a ti. Ideas sabias que le cambian a uno la vida. En ese momento uno se da cuenta que todo puede pasar, sin dares cuenta que al notarlo, se haya uno verdaderamente solo. Nadie es nada, solo adentro de su propio mundo. Y al pasar los años y uno todavia cree que puede creer y tener todo el poder sobre su destino, te podras despertar a su debido tiempo y darte cuenta que verdaderamente no tienes nada. No fue producto de una ilucion, simplemente la misma asumcion de ser el dueño de algo sobre lo que no tienes control.

Constantemente corre por mi mente una escena la cual compartimos juntos el primer dia de este año. Estabamos en la sala de tu casa, con tu papa escuchando musica de aquellos diciembres. Me quedo encrustado en la mente ese momento en que la cancion decia:

Y como es el?

En que lugar se enamoro de ti?

De donde es?

A que dedica el tiempo libre?

Yo solo respondia: es tan ajeno a esta vida y al concepto de toda la existencia que he conocido, que la verdad no se ni quien es.

Ha llegado la hora de marcharme a encontrarme con otros horizontes que tampoco entendere hasta que verdaderamente acepte que las cosas son como son, y no como a uno le gustaria que fueran. Hasta que verdaderamente acepte que debo vivir en el aqui y ahora y ya cuando llegue el tiempo que estamos esperando tan anheladamente, vivirlo sin limite y aprender a disfrutar cada instante de lo inconcluso que te hace ser tu.

-A

Recollections of my memories from Back Home

The Second document found this evening is titled " Recollections from My trip to Colombia". From reading it, I am certain that I never had the chance to quite finish it. At this point doing that would be absolutely pointless, given that I can summarize my trip in one and a half sentences:

"I did what I had to do; I found what I was looking for and I definitely did not have as much fun as everyone else seems to have".

From reading it, I can say that this was written less than a year after I got back from my trip (so give or take around September of 2008). Once again, la voila...

Recollections from My trip to Colombia

Quite frankly, there are many things that remain unanswered, and every attempt to decipher their purpose within my own life is rather meaningless.

It had been about 9 months since I last visited what I considered to be mine; and what for? Well, I did learn a lot about who I am and where I actually belong. I also understood that the world does not necessarily revolve around me. I also learned that there are certain things that regardless of how hard you work to achieve them will not change to favor you, under any circumstances whatsoever, unless they are really meant to be. In which case, they will reveal to you as time goes by.

I also learned that the so-called love of your life will probably not provide you with the best sex of your life, and the one that does will probably not be meant to be yours.

Nevertheless, since one is only made of pure flesh and bone, one gives in and enjoys the pleasure that life provides, without questioning any reasons that may explain, or rather decode the reason of their occurrence.

What was really learned then? Basically that those you will always respect will control your life, unless you take some initiative to get to know yourself. Or else, they will simply predict every move you make, making you a disciple of their mind. The last thing a rational being wants to be is to be processed by another being’s single thought.

Memories buried somewhere in my computer

Goodness gracious; that's all I have to say...
In a moment of boredom, as I was recollecting old files from my computer, I came across three documents that I will be posting here. One made me laugh hysterically, as I can only picture the state that I must have been in, to write such things. Not that I mind; I just think life is too precious to judge my behavior, specially after generating things like this. Oh boy.

A little background information: From what I may remember, I was with Memo sometime back in 2008 (wow, that used to be yesterday!) and we were wondering upon the depths of our minds with the help of substances and sleep deprivation. At any rate.... Here we go.

Memox World

I would have liked to be a European guy in the 70’s, in the middle of the century… Simply being there with my girlfriend from Berlin, inside the townhouses of death.
Really, it was actually more like a Brazilian town called Berlin, and my girlfriend wasn’t really my girlfriend, she was a tramp. My last one would be the last; after the moment I physically die.

He never understood his existence. One of their manifested destinies was eventually encompassing the American continent. Canada and its fellow humanistic friends shall intend to portrait that inner-phase god.

I fell like the seven remaining prophecies and some day, some motherfucker would come to you and be like: What the bloody rataflu, Rastafarianism!? 

Fack una llamada perdidísima.  

Somos un hotel con lucesita roja carai!

Em Português, mas eu não falo Português- is that what I will say when I have my Jacuzzi in London?

Conversacion de gente en la playa: No woman no cry La vida del director de la woman no cry. Se aparece su vida ante si mismo, piensa y se sienta hacia atraz.

Se ve el perfil de la familia feliz y se va de culo porque se da cuenta del contacto con la realidad (esta palabra impenetrable e inconclusa que nos obliga a ser lo que somos y a vernos y percibirnos como tal. Los rojos con los rojos para que entiendan…).

Geko kora se quedo fuqiadita y memoland esta conectandose al cyber espacio…

A tribute to those...

- For the ones who never stopped believing in me, and hoping that I would post something (anything for that matter).... -

DRE - dnklschwrz 2010

As I was wondering about town, lost in the only place I still own, I wrote a sonnet in the sky, with the hopes that I would never forget how we individuals fill the minds of those around us.

Although we make the incoming sources of knowledge become embedded within our own thoughts, these do not remain quite the same. They may even become the core of what defines us, our purpose and even our identity, and yet everything refuses to remain the same.

This is how the flow of information becomes transcendental, from one person to the next. Instead of regurgitating, we add identity to what we think defines us, in a way of assigning our thoughts their own trademark that will forever distinguish us among a crowd.

As I was wondering around in the mausoleum of my head I concluded that what I am right at this exact moment in time can be read in between the lines of the following verses:

My mind is this jar empty of knowledge;

this jar empty of dreams.

Succumb before my darkness,

full of sorrow and mystique.

While recalling how I learned to speak

how I used to be

in the memory of my master

I was faithful, for I only wished to see

Beyond the barriers of those rules.

In a mind of empty knowledge,

in a sole of vague dreams

I stumbled upon bizarre knowledge

that gave me the freedom I enjoy.

When confronting my past memories,

Realizing still how those bonds of yesterday fail to extinguish into nothingness

I acknowledge that the knowledge past onto me became transcendental in a way that distinguishes me even from those used to called Masters.