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_nereis_ had 100,000 fewer visits is 
if I'm a bad person, you do not like me i guess I'll go
, make my
own way it's a circle to mean cycle
i can not excite you anymore
where's your gavel? your jury? What's my Offense
this time?
're nott a judge but if you're gonna judge me
well sentence me to another life.
don't wanna hear your sad songs
i don't wanna feel your pain
when you swear it's all my fault
cause you know we're not the same
we not the same
oh we're not the same
the friends who stuck together
we wrote our names in blood
but i guess you can't accept that the change is good
it's good
it's good
you treat me just like another stranger
well it's nice to meet you sir
i guess i'll go
i best be on my way out
ignorance is your new best friend
this is the best thing that could've happened
any longer and i wouldn't have made it
it's not a war no, it's not a rapture
i'm just a person but you can't take it
the same tricks that once fooled me
they won't get you anywhere
i'm not the same kid from your memory
now i can fend for myself
don't wanna hear your sad songs
i don't wanna feel your pain
when you swear it's all my fault
cause you know we're not the same
we not the same
oh we're not the same
we used to stick together
we wrote our names in blood
but i guess you can't accept that the change is good
it's good
it's good
you treat me just like another stranger
well it's nice to meet you sir
i guess i'll go
i best be on my way out
CHTMLX
All the streets in Puente Alto are equal. The same pavement, the same tiny cottage, the same stops, same here. Everything is identical . The schools themselves indifferent, the same old ladies reclamonas.
me dizzy!
I had to skip a kind of 'gate' I went beyond the waist, really to move to the lane where I was served the metrobus because here one has to give all around to get to the next lane. Then the micrero did not even acknowledge when he shouted to ask where was the call insulza alleyada 'The Pearl', which, incidentally, when I got in it was full of people, places and vegetables through the fair and there was nothing . When I got there and looked to my right, trying to get my bearings, I saw mountains. When I looked towards the left saw more hills. When I looked in front, a little exasperated, I saw other mountains, identical to the previous. And when I looked back I saw buildings, smog and, oh! more hills! And someone can explain to me who do you think of telling a serenense out-and-out when you get off the narrow street in the 'perto 'follow address range?! Everything was the same! No more blue strip, nooo, only hills and more hills equally between them. The truth, if not because he had been on the happy road before had not known where to go. Well, the happy ending is that I arrived at my grandmother's house (which is equal to all the houses of Puente Alto) safe and sound, re-evaluating my sense of the orientation and ate rice and corn chips. And the strange thing is that when my cousin (the intellectual owner of the indications and illustrators who also went to lunch where the grandmother) left the
