Que los sentimientos son algo tan delicado como los colores de un arco iris, algo tan abstracto como la magia, aquella que suele ser ese puñal invicible que te clavan en la sien y en el corazon, pero al cual como un perro que ha sido maltratado por su amo, a el, siempre regresas... a esos sentimientos de los cuales TU no tienes el control.
I feel the calling of my art. I know, though, the troubles and dark omens it comes with it. But my hands have the proof that I'm destined for something great. Still, am scared of losing the one I got. The fucking calling, if you have it in you, you know what Im talking about. I cant tell the people that sorround me about it, they wouldn't understand, they wouldn't know what it demands of me.

Feeble mind
anti mind
Desintegrate mind
What are you talking about
boneless beheaded one,
did did I feel feel
as stone under water
Yes, the cold sweat of an afternoon watching ghosts stumbling through their crevices
Those mighty intelectuals can't figure it out.
Soul I say, Spectrum their mouth mimics,
and I run through white doors and turn myself into black cycles
and keep searching for you when I dont need to search no more
Fuck, I say I hate, those words when we can't find the same definition,
Love, yes, all are four letter words, and and and but they are not, so what?
Do I need three letter words on my relations? Assosiations? Encarnations?
I say no! Can't you just accept me as what I am, fucked up, dark, and lost...
Hope for the future that comes.

Jack Raif