BienMal

innerness is no more
than intensified sky.

an ecology of invisible
beings is observing you,

wondering what is
the weather like
under your mask.

get in girl,
we are going to take the throne
from gravity’s perpetual tyranny.

when the words
sound like shady lines,
you look for the
truth in the eyes,
but they can also
be in disguise,
just remember
that it’s all in the vibes,
they can never tell lies.

when you begin to suspect that everything you are seeing is not real and might be AI-generated slop, just remember—buddhists have been calling this fake reality Samsara for 3,000 years.

the gestalt of our era is this need to render each new event as extraordinary, dulling the memory of yesterday’s excesses, now dismissed as ordinary.

even absence has a shape,
and just like the space between notes makes the music, we are tailored by ethereal silhouettes.

yeah babe, the highest level of idiocy is having an IQ gated society that the machine is about to overcome.

we better work on invaluable traits that AI cant perform: vibes, taste, insight & intuition.

and maybe we can call it having a high VQ.

your compulsion with mentally rehearsing conversations with me is creating multiple copies of me that are trapped in different theatrical realms were they are doomed to mindlessly keep replaying those endless discussions that will never happen here. please stop.

it all started as
all things should…
with getting lost.

i was building the walls
of the maze taller.

while you where knocking
though some doors.

revenge is absolutely forgiven in the spiritual realm, but only if you serve it extravagantly, with great relish, sparing no expense.

no soy este cuerpo,
ni esta mente.
sino una tercera
cosa secreta,
que tengo que llevar
por esta puerta,
hasta la cima de la torre,
soltar y dejar flotar
y a ver que chingados
es lo que queda
que lleve mi nombre.

so the oligarchs in the US now own the presidency, the government, the military, the media, the social platforms, AI, the podcasters, the comedians, and the contrarian militias.

They are the “They”. we know their names.

if knowing that doesn’t one-shot a revolution, i don’t know what will.

es muy temprano,
prefiero esperar
un poco más
en reaccionar,
las emociones se
tardan mucho
más en concretar,
algunos dirían
que nunca se
terminan de cocinar,
quizá antes de expresar,
una sensación es
eternamente incompleta.

there’s something magnificent about reaching the age of rediscovering the beautiful spectrum of colors that paint world while getting covered in bruises (i have astigmatism)

“still got it!” i say to myself, but then i immediately lose it by reminiscing about the time when i didn’t have to think i had it.

en la vastedad de la superficialidad,
donde no hay consuelo de dios.

mi mamá no me advirtió que casi todo se desvanecería sin decir un adiós.

dicen por ahí
que hay grietas en todo
y así es como entra la luz;
pero hay veces que,
más allá de lo quebrado,
no hay brillo por ningún lado, y lo fracturado,
sirve para derramar sombra por todos lados,
y terminan por dejar
a todo el mundo de obscuridad embarrado.

desbordarme a lo tonto me tiene hasta el orto, no me soporto, pero siempre es mejor pasarse que quedarse corto.

según yo, mi punto
de inflexión estaba cerca,
pero adrede permito
que la gota que derrame
el vaso sea eterna.

time has not been our friend lately.

it disappears like quicksand through our hands.

the moment is now to steal as much time as we can.

i say hi to the tide
that will drag
another kingdom
into the sea.

as the new river,
flowing with possibility,
passes me by.

now i know
that the setting sun
isn’t really a goodbye.

remember how
it all began.

it is written
in the stars.

everything has
a proper ending
fitting for its start.

he quedado como tonto tantas veces en la persecución de conexiones humanas que sería más tonto detenerme ahora.

do you really mean i have to compete with the way music makes her feel? oh no, i rather be distant and a little bit mean.

you see, to create a god is to manifest its chimerical opposite, get ready for a tsunami of new temptations.

I miss when all our
curated distractions
used to stimuli
inspiration or envy.
now they become
attention devourers
for time-wasting.

it seems planet size, give it time, in a while, it’ll be a stranger passing by.

do not idolize anyone
who does not make
your synapses explode
like fireworks
and all your goddamn
nerve endings scream.
that spark you feel?
that's the raw current
of existence flowing
through you.
do not try to be chill.