Lego tale


That crazy ability to create fantasy reality through the quotidian.
It’s like you could mix two different dimensions on the same view.
As living two realities at the same time: the official one and the one living in your mind.
Plus Intuition.
Knowing what happened even haven’t been there.
that wake you up or make you sleep.
Very close to the magical realism of Allende or Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Where everything is possible.

A writer healing
locked in his writing
and a lit candle facing a corner window.
A mind full of riddles,
a closed heart,
but the same sparkle in the eyes.

Madrid at nightfall,
my Goloka incense,
the stars of my central African island.

That random poem by that poetry instructor
that talked about eating plums
and caught my attention for no reason.

No fear to feel or imagine.
Every dream has particles of reality
and the power of a builder.



When I was a kid
I used to walk through a poppy field
road to the nearby sea;
it was my moment with mom.
The sun’s rays illuminated the wheat,
only our presence broke the silence.

Two city women on the Mediterranean coast,
because she adored the sea.
80`s woman holding a black belt in judo
and a faithful on yoga culture,
gave birth to a sweet girl with a fiery character
and named her with a star name.

Philosophy and letters,
poetry and baroque,
opera and culture,
my grandfather’s piano, playing every Sunday morning.

Chamomile tea and herbal liqueur,
heated debates on politics, communism, and transition.


The piercing gaze of my black grandmother,
she used to laugh because I never looked away in front of her look.

Take your foot off the gas.
When you let go of everything, what is real remains.

Last days of summer


A sky blue shirt
not my size,
the sun on my face,
lo-fi music,
and my skin wet.

The smell of summer.

We feel things intensely on this side of the ocean.

People who make me laugh as a day-to-day basics
I keep them in my heart forever.

My laptop burns and my head is heavy.
Documents, requests, researching, letters.
And then that «Girl, keep doing what you are doing».

I know so many things that nobody knows and I will never say.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s counterproductive
to have this gift of realizing even what I don’t want to realize.

I feel grateful
for who I am
for my life
for those around me.
I am blessed to be surrounded
by people so full of love.

Months ago I thought I was making changes in my life
to seek happiness.
Today I know that happiness is only moments
is a choice, an attitude.
What I was really looking for
it’s fullness.
My fullness is my balance.

A tad of mindset


Maybe I’m not the best at comforting
but I assure you that I can be the best
reminding you of your power and making yourself healthy.

I won’t be that one helping to paint victimism portraits
when all that energy can be channeled into growth.

Time goes by…
better you know how to get out of loop patterns quick
if you don’t want to waste it.

By observing MMA fighters
found out the best are not the ones who hit the hardest,
but those who best withstand the blows
and those with the greatest ability to dodge them.

That’s life.

There comes a time when you start to like the game.
You start having fun with the ups and downs. With challenges.

Holding on, protecting yourself, and keeping running.
Allowing yourself to leave your mind blank.
How many people are enslaved by their own thoughts?

Used to wandering through the jungle
I pray to God every day,
I water my plants,
and I love stormy nights like tonight.

Blue Moon


I live in an eternal mood of ‘chill-out house playlist’ Ibiza style.
Calm, but always active.
My mind never stops.
For a person with such a hectic inner world
all banal and superficial ends up being boring.

Playing chess with no rules.
There are periods when I do not express, and only observe.
My timings of silence speak about learning.

Then there comes a day when giving voice to myself becomed dangerous
because it caused hurricanes.
The power to speak the truth.
So I learned to shut up and talk with my eyes and other arts.
Maybe that way no one would get hurt.

But injustice eats away at me.

Maybe I should have learned to be an actress
and thus observe the shit with a frozen smile on my mouth.
But I was born as a warrior princess
And I can’t live any other way.



¿Nunca has tenido la sensación de vivir rodeado de dormidos?
Mi teclado suena día y noche.
El tiempo pasa; no hay pausa.

Y suspiros frescos en el aire.

Siento el tumulto agitante de cuando un cambio brusco se acerca.

Mi mente mantiene pensamiento de escalada en ascendente.

«Estás en el limbo».
No, ¿Qué quieres de mi?

No es que no sea seria,
es que ya no apuesto por cualquiera.

Mi camino está lleno de cálida luz solar.

Necesito coger un avión al otro lado del mundo
y recordar por qué estamos aquí.

Las mujeres de mi casa.

El destino es amarillo.

Intento no jugar.

Black Coffee.

Y la miel en los labios.

Parar el mundo


—¿Nunca has parado el mundo?
— ¿Qué es parar el mundo?
—Parar el mundo es decidir conscientemente que vas a salir de él para mejorarte y mejorarlo. Para poder moverte y moverlo mejor.
En ese tiempo debes intentar que nadie ni nada te cree problemas. Alimentarte de buena literatura, de buen cine y, sobre todo, de la conversación de una única persona que te inspire en este mundo. ¿Y sabes qué…? 
—Luego el mundo te premia. El universo conspira a favor de los que lo mueven. Y ésos son los que lo paran. ¿Tú qué quieres mover el mundo o que te mueva?

(Albert Espinosa, 2011)

Efecto musa


Vives en una Tierra en la que te sientes extraterrestre,
por lo que solo comprendes el lenguaje de la música
-y su efecto medicina-.

“Nunca se sabe qué encontrará uno tras una puerta. Quizá en eso consiste la vida: en girar pomos”.

La rebelde, la que no cede, la que ataca con la lengua.
La dulce, la delicada, la que habla con los ojos.
El sabor de la sabana junto al azafrán castizo.
No le teme al miedo.
Sigue sus impulsos y actúa de forma genuina.
Porque le da igual cuantas veces este mundo la pise
por ser real,
está dispuesta a pagar el coste de la pureza.

Toda musa
vuelve a su origen.

Welcome to my nirvana.

Trenes perdidos


Te fuiste
que no te olvidara.
Pero cómo voy a olvidarte,
si formas parte de cada recuerdo memorable almacenado en mi veintena.
Nos dejamos marcados el uno al otro, con tinta en la muñeca
y cientos de trayectos por la ciudad que nunca duerme
donde nuestros sueños se inyectaban insomnio.

Sabes que siempre me levanto y trato de tocar los astros.
Pero hay veces que nos llega la luz de estrellas que ya están muertas,
pero que a través del juego del tiempo parecen seguir ahí.

Quizá sea una de ellas.

Así que ni creas en mí ni en mi recuerdo,
porque ya no existe.