01 - La Mejor Idea del Mundo [The Best Idea in The World]
(Just, whateverFind what works for you and do it, use itThe biggest thing here is that each layer becomes a little darkerAnd that way it creates that illusion of depthBut that's okay, gives you a lot of practiceYou learn by repetition, doing it over and over and overIn some circles they call that practiceAnd if there's any secret to this technique or any techniqueIt's practice, that's allJust practiceIt's like tying your shoeWhen you first started it was quite difficultYou had to look and take your time and really work at itAnd now you do it probably without even lookingI told that to a lady one time and she looked down and saidWhy are you wearing loafers then?So anywaySome of us learn better than others)
All ears went numb,listening to mouths with nothing to say.Caged, they laugh and try to competefor the most horrible idea they could come up with.
Another day goes by—and I survived.I’m always trying to smile.Nothing special to be found there,just one more mute soul and a script without end.
And without warning, it suddenly came to me—the contradiction that seemed to suggestsomething was real, and the truth was about to arrive,like noise inside a silence that could never be heard.
This isThis isThis isThis isThis isThis is
A lightthat can’t be seen,a way to believethere will still besomewhere to runwhen no one wants to have faith.
It’s not just something else—yet it always is.It’s just something else—yet it always is.It’s not just something else—yet it always is.It’s just something else—yet it always is.
I feel the beyond collapse in my chest.How many nights have I spent in this hell?All the time I feel, I think, I remember.This is my duty—until I drop dead.
Toward infinity I go.
A lightthat can’t be seen,a way to believethere will still besomewhere to runwhen no one wants to have faith.
This isThis isThis isThis isThis isThis isThis isThis isThis is
02 - Virtud Quimera [Chimera Virtue]
From the ether, in a frenzy—visions become a feast.New ways to feelwhat I never understood.
Falling, in a circle.
How do I tell them what I sawthat night I discoveredthe meaning of existence?Everyone’s going to die.
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
And then something startled me—I began to float, calm,between lakes in my hands.And I saw a creator sitting,a bit alarmed.
His creation wasn’t cooperating,and he’d forgottenthat he wasn’t boundby a bunch of rules he’d never made.
What an idiot, he thought,as he looked at what he’d built.He forgot to be afraid—and never came back.
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
I thought I’d stay still.Nothing happens while time passes.And this life—I hope it’s some kind of comfortfor the hours that watched mecry and crash against the floor,which now feels like velvet.
Though now I’m just tired—Is it wrong to always crave something new?All the time trying to capture the wind.
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
Elevation, chimera virtueLife is just light that resonatesSo moving, they panicWhen they find more footprints in the sand
An onion made me cry.I wasn’t cooking it or anything.I just forgot it on top of the fridge—who knows how long ago.
Until suddenly, today,I noticed something peeking through the mess.And when I got closer—there it was.
The onion.Half-rotting,completely dried out,but—
wearing a graceful green sprout,and a tiny bundle of roots.
So I peeled off the damaged layersand planted it in a plastic bottlewith a bit of soil.
Now it rests on the kitchen counter,watching a city from above.
How many onions can say that?How many of us even havea fraction of that will—
to be,to exist,to experience somethingthat’s never been experienced before?
And here it was—a simple onionlaughing in the face of the odds,reaching for morefrom literal rot.
And that idea made me cry.An onion made me cry.
And I decided to name her—Chispa.
[Spark]


03 - Todos Los Fuegos El Fuego [All Fires The Fire]
Where do they think they’re going?If there’s really nowhere left to run.And today is such a beautiful day—Why would they want to cry?
And their eyes will burnwhen they seehow much a sparkcan illuminate.Can illuminate.
In some sudden dream,a fish drowns trying to swim.And even though it wasn’t really a dream,it still managed to wake up.
And their eyes will burnwhen they seehow much a sparkcan illuminate.Can illuminate.Can illuminate.Can illuminate.Can illuminate.
Self-immolation.


04 - En La Esquina Hay Un Reloj [There’s a Clock on the Corner]
There’s a clock on the corner—a simple mechanism of incalculable value.A transcendent object that divides in twothe ethereal air within terror.
There’s a clock on the corner—a cluster of pieces, so precise,rotating and spinninginside a plastic box probably made in China.
Cheap, but carefully made,it can measure seconds even in the worst kind of confinement,and listen closely to the slips in silence.It can shift its shape as the day falls quietly.
And to the rhythm of a gentle wobble,it reminds me, again and again, where I am—staring at me with its voice,because there’s a clock on the corner.
There’s a clock on the corner,and its shadow lunges in backlight—a flood of sensation,a total lack of color.
There’s a clock on the corner—an unworthy cross, a monstrous idea,a ruined city destroyed by mistake,a histrionic reminder that it can always get worse.
Though worse than these daysis hard to imagine:bodies stacked, bills to pay,thousands of problems we’re forced to think about,and the faces of a clockthat never wait their turn.
And I wish it would stop watching me.I live in a constant rush and have nothing left to give.Though someday I hope to wake up and just be myself—but I keep losing friends,and there’s a clock on the corner.
There’s a clock on the corner,and as I think about time, all I feel is pain—because time was never anything,and that time is over.
We’re running out of water,and we’re not even ashamed.When will they start charging us for air?No one has homes anymore—just obsessions.
But there’s a clock on the corner,and it always knows exactly where I’m going.So when I’m lost,it can remind me that I’m an impostor.
And I invented a glowing excuse of a faceto forget the hours I spentstaring at imperfection.
A vile lie I still remember today,just to feel like somethingmeant something.
And while the world burns,I feel a disillusion spreadingin the wake of a disasterthat always unfolds without reason.
And I wish so badly I could be with you—but I’m still trapped at home,and there’s a clock on the corner.


05 - Contratiempos (Respirando Como Si Doliera)
[Offbeat / Setbacks (Breathing As If It Would Hurt)]
Breathing out of syncwhile the hoursfall likebombs from the sky.
Slowly collapsing,just to avoid bleeding—when everything is little,nothing feels real.
Breathing out of syncwhile the hoursfall likebombs from the sky.


06 - Y Las Focas Aplaudieron En Sus Jaulas
[And the Seals Clapped in Their Cages]
I saw you again begging for the gallows.What the fuck has you all so happy?Their words never mean a thing.Their eyes always shining with pride.
I won’t listen to noise anymore.No more days spent dazed.I can’t take one more second of you.
I heard you again inside your cages.How many more times will you kiss the floor?You can’t even see the traps—You can’t even comprehend.
Getting to know a kind of freedomGrowing more cruel every day.They will applaudTheir own end.
Maybe there’s still no wayto be saved—To lock away your shadowsfor nothing.
And if there’s no one leftwho still feels fascinating—Then burn every traceof us.
Getting to know a kind of freedomGrowing more cruel with every day.They will applaudTheir own end.
And forgettingeverything you ever had—you’ll agonizeartificially.
Clap!Clap!
Don’t stop clapping!Don’t stop clapping!Don’t stop clapping!
Nothing will remain in the sky.No more sleepless nights.No one will applaudwhatever truth is left.
I saw you kill your offspring,waiting for a reward.And since the dream wouldn’t end,there was always something left to do.

07 - Intentos Fallidos [Failed Attempts]
I never believed in fate, but—I think something’s not right.I’m not sure if I’m lost,though I can kind of tell.
Maybe an idea was onlysomething to fear,something to hold,something to learn to understand.
I wish I knew about miracles, orat least where they are.I don’t even knowif I want to get back up again.
Because now, the floorfinally feels likethe best place to rest.
And I no longer feel like changinga world where nothing ever mattered.I no longer dream of leaving the houseI no longer believe there’s a way to keeptrying like a madmanto find what’s never going to be found.
I got tired of being a jokeThat no one would tell.Years of work for nothing—And how could they know what is like to fail?
I faced hell itself—and for what?
I only managed to suffocate!Is there no one listening in this disgusting place?!
Always unfinished dreams.Nothing more.

08 - Yaldabaoth (La Noche de La Calamidad)
[Yaldabaoth (The Night of The Calamity)]
Calm.Nothing can hurt us.What kind of ending could really come?
Calm.A currentdistills itself when I’m at peace.Nothing could everstop us from moving forward.
But in the end, the end arrived.The void always winsin this earthly realm.Calm.
It was such an ordinary day—as ordinary as death—when the door gave way,and I realized I wasn’t that strong anymore.Nothing could be saved.And now my love paintswith woundson crystal canvases.
And I thought I radiatedsome kind of divinity.But in the end, I was never anything—nothing in particular.Just another confused fishdrowning in the sea.
I just wanted to leave somethingbetter than how I found it.I only thought of mornings at sunset.
And to worshipsomething that fills the eternala little more,before losing faith.
But it was written even in my blood—the sacredis what has always been.

09 - Lo Que Siempre Fue [What Has Always Been]
When embracing becomes suffocating,survival is the only feat.If the days are built on contrast,there’s always something yet to meet.
In circles, always searchingfor the greatest revelation,the failed, frustrated attemptswere the true vision all along.
Because nothing can be perfect—only this wild urge to keep trying.And even if it was the worst attempt,something always remains.
Every kind of affectionhas the power to strangle—to burn down an entire forestor illuminate it.To guide us through the nightor start to distort it.
Because nothing can be perfect—only this wild urge to keep trying.And even if it was the worst attempt,something always remains.
These days werejust one more lie.I dragged myself, sick—only to findamong the fallen leaves,right at the end—what has always been.what has always been.

10 - Consecuencias Emocionales de Intentar
[Emotional Consequences of Trying]
No no no no no no no noNo no no no no no no noNo no no no no no no noDon't worry so muchDon't worry so muchBecause in the endAll years will end