Que la arroba se produzca con el Alt Gr y la Q.
Ver marineros de tierra en Coyoacán
Tortillas azules, maíz para las elites
Señoras sacandose el monedero de sus pechos
Que cuando este comiendo de repente la gente me hable y me diga: Provecho
Seguir paso a paso la bronca linguística más sangrienta que he visto: o es Taxqueña o es Tasqueña. Yo prefiero Taxqueña y ya hice mis apuestas.
Tanta palabra en Náhuatl y que me corrijan al pronunciarlas
Mis nuevas amistades
El horno que puede ser un microbus (perhaps not sooo much)
Yesterday is an odd kind of word, a feeling in the head, more like it, because most of the time I spend my time thinking about those yesterdays. Some are more intense than others, some less than others, Mergruen was thinking the other day just on these kinds of thoughts. I too find myself now in that enmeshed vine that we deem to call yesterday. She spoke of smells and other things that our mind collects without our permission. There is a yesterday that is rather strong for me now, there is a sensation that ails, I think of that yesterday and I readily understand why it is so. But yesterday also feeds the soul, it nurishes it though it might produce uncountable other by-effects of the carnal persuation. Yesterday will always be there, and even though those yesterdays were shared with loved ones, in the end, its is just you and those yesterdays that one only has to look back at.