Marcaba con ahínco el negro lápiz sobre las delgadas hojas del periódico. De repente se detuvo y, mirando sobre los anteojos, dijo como si hiciera una pregunta:
- Palabra de sies letras para felicidad absoulta...
Ella, sin pensarlo mucho tiempo, respomndió:

* - I guess it was her instinct of selfdestruction
(and I guess you have to have your own ideas...) *

Again the sky has fallen down on me
Once more a world has crumbled down and over me
And yet in some twisted way

I enjoy my misery
And in some strange way
I have grown together with my agony
I feel home in despair for I dwell in grief

and I feel home when the air's too thick to breathe
and I feel home anywhere human lives are going down the drain
Yet I know the worst is still to come

(Sami Lopakka)

Lyrics always help in some way. They show what I wanna say but I can't find the right words... for me, they act like literature in general but mixed with music, feelings, fire and ice. The perfect way for create images based on the human soul and translated into words... And to make me say a lot of silly things like right now...
That's just what I feel

I am dying down… growing weaker now
It could seem that I'm doing fine but I'm broken to little pieces deep inside
Sami Lopakka

"Si no hiciera una locura por lo menos una vez al año me volvería loco"
Vicente Huidobro. Altazor

Luz de Luna entre visillos...

*Now I'm alone again... as I've always been...*