this is the end

This is the end
Beautiful blog
This is the end
My only blog, the end

Of our elaborate posts, the end
Of everything that reads, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never write into your sites...again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land

Lost in a roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah

There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway, baby
Weird scenes inside the gold mine
Ride the highway west, baby

Read the post, read the post
in the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The post is long, seven miles
read the post...he's old, and his skin is cold

The post is the best
The post is the best
Get here, and we'll do the rest

The blue bus is callin' us
The blue bus is callin' us
Driver, where you taken' us

The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, yes son, I want to kill you
Mother...i want to...fuck you

C'mon baby, take a chance with us
C'mon baby, take a chance with us
C'mon baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus
Doin' a blue rock
On a blue bus
Doin' a blue rock
C'mon, yeah

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill

This is the end
Beautiful blog
This is the end
My only blog, the end

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die

This is the end

*********************************

asi es, es el final de este blog. este blog ha muerto desde hace ya buen rato, porque dejo de tener el mismo significado que en un principio tuvo. el uso que le daba no era el uso que se planeo cuando lo inicie. asi que dejare de escribir aqui y esperare a ver si empiezo alguno otro, otro proyecto diferente. este ya esta muy gastado y ya no hay manera de seguirle.

yo se que se sentiran solos y vacios con esta noticia, se que su mundo dejara de tener sentido sin mis palabras, pero pues es tiempo que mis niños maduren y comiencen a vivir por su cuenta. uno ha llegado al limite de la deformacion mental y espiritual.

recuerden siempre que el alma es como una pelota de goma y que constantemente la estamos azotando contra el suelo con nuestras experiencias sólo para ver que forma toma, y aunque algunas veces descubrimos cosas grandiosas, la verdad es que nunca recuperara su forma inicial.

así que esta es la moraleja, consideren siempre las consecuencias de sus actos porque una vez que los hacemos no hay manera de borrarlos de nuestra memoria.

atte. el rat.