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slower than I think

run slower than we think. Act worse than we think. Prisoners of our mind, to be drawn into what our instincts rather do.

I am aware of how much should I wait to ram. Nothing is free in this life and should always look at the right times that should gain momentum without going back out of the holes we fall.

The days are getting tougher and colorful at the same time. Its brightness and blur me will not let me see clearly. Walk with difficulty, constantly stumble and get up with fewer forces. Ghosts haunt me and I'm not afraid. When I look, I made signs to help you understand how I'm alive. I smiled, turning his eyes and keep walking.

I'm not aware of what is lost in life when one does not stop accepting it. I isolate myself on a daily basis instead of my room to catch my breath just a little and could walk the next day. In this small space in which there is no gravity and I can relax for a second and disconnect from the world around me.

I consistent with the things I say and I'm not against my agreements and promises. Callo, look and not think. Just pull the right fist. It's the most I can do. Although I know that I have not met many (commitments), never try to do the opposite, which means that more than once, failed.

Nights are unique and are used to thinking. The missing words are valid only close his eyes. No sleep, no rest. Just because when you close I can see some things clearer. Understanding how to live each, but not to life. Do not waste my time to understand it.

I'm not consistent by the coldness of my actions, which are often responsible for sadness and tears of others. Who are indifferent to the pain itself. Acts that are just product of our instincts, my instincts, they do not measure or analyze reasons consequences. That are linked to what we are or rather, I am.

Game chasing dreams. It frustrates me the idea of \u200b\u200bliving without one. I feel confident of not having it. I do not quite understand why I wait here. I do not quite grasp. Every night before bed, I wonder who I am and every morning wake up more confused about my existence.

is easier and no less hard to walk without moving. I go as fast as I can. I live more quickly than sorry. I scream louder than I listen. I get up before falling. I wake up before bedtime. I see the moon before nightfall. I see me birth before dying. I lose before you play. I destroy before crashing. I think that lie before.

My reality whispers in my ear, I'm going slower than you think.

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Slaves of pain that chokes

ended recalling the principle of all . Thanks for the lessons learned and promising what not to do anymore. The soul was flooded with grief and overwhelmed by our eyes. Tears.

We hugged, we'll hold hands. We walked to the departure, we locked eyes as if for the last time I did, as it was. I kissed her hands and she kissed me. We asked the night never ends, as two who have only lost one another.

was so hard to let go of their hands, it was so hard watching her was so hard to believe that was the last time and it was so hard to get back to reality. In the last hug rub our faces, we support our foreheads and our lips together. It was impossible not to think about setting aside the talk, I agreed, I already decided.

Frustration grew larger. The severity of his voice I fell back and left me there on the floor. That moment made eternal, the words did not exist. We learned to read our eyes as well, our eyes were responsible for closing wounds and opening new wounds, the deepest.

accomplice

The moon, the moon, with its dim light shone kept us together and our steps in the dark moments of insecurity blinded us, it was different with us this time. He understood that when two people should not take more damage, it is best not shine, let it stumble and to resume their way to the brightness of other stars.

promised to be around, lied. We decided to be friends, but it hurt. We miss our voices heard because only our echoes. Whips to be played, we lost. We cry in silence, shouted. We decided to forget were having. Life would not let us understand what happened, but we were forced to accept it.

We slaves of pain. We are survivors of the war more beautiful. We are souls on the street trying to reunite the halves of old memories with tired, hurt, resentful and helpless accurate product shells loaded with errors and confusion, but we were fooling.

that I tried to go the palms of your hands at the time of release, is a perpetual feeling that you bring to my mind every morning, every morning where I see your picture on waking, to which clean the dust of oblivion you want delete it. It's high time. A kiss on the forehead, heart and hard to walk without looking back and showed me the damn pride.

We said that life has to meet if they wanted. Random destination only will we meet someday. When you arrive, you'll notice me from afar, will smile and raise his hand to greet me. I will look at his profile, thank God for you, raise the index and middle finger of my right hand and I'll fake a smile, you bounce the same way that healthy and go your way. When you do, my soul still flooded, overflow again remembering the night that should not ever end.

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Docupolis

Docúpolis Iberoamericano in Santiago, Valdivia and Puerto Montt, Chile, in April and May.

"The place where the poles are joined by Juan Martin Cave is part of the programming of the sample:

- Centro Cultural Palacio de la Moneda
April 22 at 16h and 19h 28

- Cultural Center of Spain

at 18:30 on 26

programming in the sample are gems as "World Wings," "September", "Raymond", "some sadness" among other documentaries ...

Full program http://www.tercer-ojo.com/docupolis/Afiche_Docupolis.pdf

TOGETHER IS WHERE THE POLES
Director: Juan Martin Cueva

Producer: Teresa Pierce AIP

Editor: Alex Rodriguez

Sound: Omar Perez

Music: Frédéric Mainçon

Production Manager: Teresa Pierce, AIP

Executive Producer: Jean-Marie Barbe, AIP

Genre: Documentary

Original Format: Betacam

Year: 2002

Country: Ecuador / France / Belgium

Duration: 53 minutes

Synopsis
Charter
a filmmaker filmed their children. The author, an Ecuadorian who lives in France, where their children are born, reflecting on the identity, the transmission of a culture and way of seeing the world, distance, longing for other lands and other times. The letter to his children leads him to tell the political history of the grandfather of these, a militant involved in the revolutionary process in Cuba, Chile and Nicaragua.

What are the ties that bind to Latin America, what historical events have fueled the family history, what causes determined the fate of their families, their participation at key moments in the history of Chile, Cuba, Nicaragua and Ecuador?

In "The place where the poles meet" weaves an attempt to answer these questions from the family complicity with an account of the last forty years in Latin America and a personal reflection on the commitment, identity and displacement.

Festivals and awards: • Award Project
SCAM
France 2001 • Best DocumentalFestival de Valdivia Chile 2002
• Best Screenplay Festival of Rosario Argentina 2003 South
Realities Prize Festival, Bogotá Colombia 2004
• Best International Film DocumentalFestival Poor Mexico 2005
• Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival, LALIFF, USA, 2002
• New York Latino Film Festival, LaCinemaFe, USA, 2002
• Docúpolis, Barcelona, \u200b\u200bSpain, 2002 (official selection)
• Documentary Shows IV Bogotá, Colombia, 2002
• Festival of New Latin American Cinema in Havana, Cuba, 2002
• International Documentary Festival in Santiago de Chile, FIDOCS, Chile, 2002
• Original Versions Festival, Luss, France, 2002
• 1st Encounters of the Other Cinema, Ecuador, 2002
• IV Ibero-American Cinema Display, Quito, Ecuador, 2002
• Chicago International Documentary Film Festival, USA, 2003
• Latin American Video Shows Managua, Nicaragua, 2003
• Cambridge Latino Film Festival, USA, 2003
• Chicago Latino Film Festival, 2004
• International Film Festival of Bogota, Colombia, 2004