Hello friends. My name is Pablo and I live in a small kneepit deep in the jungles of Chiapas. Here you I make the stories happy and sad and some other places inbetween. I hope you like! Welcome here in my kneepit!

Friday, September 28, 2007


Pablo is on a long journey through the mountains and forests of Southern Mexico, searching for his lost Mama….


Ola my friends, it has been a long hard journey for me these weeks. For many days I have been without my underpants and my singing monkey. Some nights I get so cold and lonely I think of all the friend I am leaving behind in my kneepit, the fun I had with my potatoes in the fields, and the fiestas I would make for everyone come stuff their fat faces. Pablo feel very sad for himself, wishing I had my dead doggie back to lick the tears from my face, or that my papa never sell my legs in card game to the gringos long time ago, so I could walk proper to where my heart it lies by the waves in the sea.

Most of all I miss the sweet smell of my mamas long black hairs, the sound her singing and screaming in the night, and the bitter hot taste her special mole.


One morning I wake up and find I am not too far from a big village, bigger and stranger than I ever see before. I notice everything is so very quiet, even the birds have gone away. This make me scared, so I make my way slow past the crushed trees and broken rocks until I see a place so beautiful – I think I must be dreaming!

All the walls are painted blue and red and yellow and green and the roads are smooth and clean. It look just the same like something from a photo I find one time when the big truck crash and kill many chickens and peoples some years ago. I kept this photo under my pillow for many years, until it disappear one night, same time my mama she go away.

So I look inside the houses, thinking that maybe I find someone there, or maybe some clue why everything so empty and sad here. But inside is empty too, and dirty with dust, and old, so much older than the world outside the village.

Too scared to stay here long time, I decide to move on as quick as I can. I keep on going and don’t look back until I am back in the forest and the birds are singing again.

Its funny, but as a bambino I always dreamed to visit this place, but when I got there I found I did not want to stay. I am wondering what this mean when I fall to sleep.


Later that night I dream of a big jaguar, who carry a baby in her teeth away from big forest fire.

When I wake I find the tip my fingers blue because of some long black hairs twisted round them.

It is then I start to smile again for the first time in many weeks.

My mama, I know, she cannot be too far away.


Adios amigos. Come join me again soon!


ElizT said...

It will be a relief to hear news of your Mama, the strain has been bad for my health.

Paul Bommer said...

don pablo
me gusta mucho tu picture
its great

AscenderRisesAbove said...

a lovely image with colorful terracotta... though a very sad story