-And may the squirrel be among us-16.03.09
How come I end up where I started?
In an interstellar burst
Just 'cause you feel it, it doesn't mean it's there
I'm all the days that you choose to ignore
Don't get any big ideas, they're not gonna happen
I get eaten by the worms!
It should be ringin'
EVERYONE
I love you but enough is enough
Such a pretty garden
Just as you take my hand
Dedicated to all you, to all your needs
Pull me out of the aircrash
Who are our real friends?
EVERYTHING
My fake plastic love.
I've no idea what I'm talking about
this will be all on videotape
Rain down
Be constructive with your blues
NO MATTER HOW IT ENDS, NO MATTER HOW IT STARTS
The best you can is good enough
Don't question my authority and put me in a box
This is really happenning!
Currently listening: Radiohead's setlist @Lollapalooza 2008.
In an interstellar burst
Just 'cause you feel it, it doesn't mean it's there
I'm all the days that you choose to ignore
Don't get any big ideas, they're not gonna happen
I get eaten by the worms!
It should be ringin'
EVERYONE
I love you but enough is enough
Such a pretty garden
Just as you take my hand
Dedicated to all you, to all your needs
Pull me out of the aircrash
Who are our real friends?
EVERYTHING
My fake plastic love.
I've no idea what I'm talking about
this will be all on videotape
Rain down
Be constructive with your blues
NO MATTER HOW IT ENDS, NO MATTER HOW IT STARTS
The best you can is good enough
Don't question my authority and put me in a box
This is really happenning!
Currently listening: Radiohead's setlist @Lollapalooza 2008.
In-especial.
Apenas estamos en noviembre, sin embargo, ya sé cuál es la lección del año. The countdown began earlier this year. Blame global warming. La moraleja de mi fábula recae en el término 'especial':
Grace: So I'm arrogant. I'm arrogant because I forgive people?
The Big Man: My God. Can't you see how condescending you are when you say that? You have this preconceived notion that nobody, listen, that nobody can't possibly attain the same high ethical standards as you, so you exonerate them. I can not think of anything more arrogant than that. You... you forgive others with excuses that you would never in the world permit for yourself...
You should be merciful, when there is time to be merciful. But you must maintain your own standard. You owe them that. You owe them that. The penalty you deserve for your transgressions, they deserve for their transgressions...
Does every human being need to be accountable for their action. Of course they do. But you don't even give them that chance. And that is extremely arrogant. I love you. I love you. I love you to death. But you are the most arrogant person I've ever met. And you call me arrogant! I have no more to say.
Grace: The people who live here are doing their best under very hard circumstances.
The Big Man: If you say so, Grace. But is their best really good enough? Do they love you?
Grace: So I'm arrogant. I'm arrogant because I forgive people?
The Big Man: My God. Can't you see how condescending you are when you say that? You have this preconceived notion that nobody, listen, that nobody can't possibly attain the same high ethical standards as you, so you exonerate them. I can not think of anything more arrogant than that. You... you forgive others with excuses that you would never in the world permit for yourself...
You should be merciful, when there is time to be merciful. But you must maintain your own standard. You owe them that. You owe them that. The penalty you deserve for your transgressions, they deserve for their transgressions...
Does every human being need to be accountable for their action. Of course they do. But you don't even give them that chance. And that is extremely arrogant. I love you. I love you. I love you to death. But you are the most arrogant person I've ever met. And you call me arrogant! I have no more to say.
Grace: The people who live here are doing their best under very hard circumstances.
The Big Man: If you say so, Grace. But is their best really good enough? Do they love you?
(Dogville)
One day...
Hace algunos días, semanas, horas, minutos, espacios temporales, salí. Y mentí. Y me divertí como pocos días en mi vida. Cené crème Brulée y me besaron como nunca. Sonreí. Y jugué. Y olí a Amour de Kenzo. Cerré los ojos y me reí. Disfrutando de la inmediatez ahora perdida. Reina de lo efímero.
Esa noche escuché una canción en la radio (sí, la radio, 90.9) y pensé en todas las cosas lindas que quería en un futuro. Escuché las lyrics y escuché la voz de mi acompañante, haciendo planes. Planes que han quedado consumados. Y olvidados. Sin embargo, la canción no se fue. Y me gusta mucho cómo suena. Y lo que cuenta. Porque cuenta cosas que sucedieron, que suceden y sucederán. No matter what, when, with who and how.
Se llama Paris y es de Friendly Fires, vean el video, ya sé que los estoy saturando con videos, pero está muy linda, lo prometo.
Esa noche escuché una canción en la radio (sí, la radio, 90.9) y pensé en todas las cosas lindas que quería en un futuro. Escuché las lyrics y escuché la voz de mi acompañante, haciendo planes. Planes que han quedado consumados. Y olvidados. Sin embargo, la canción no se fue. Y me gusta mucho cómo suena. Y lo que cuenta. Porque cuenta cosas que sucedieron, que suceden y sucederán. No matter what, when, with who and how.
Se llama Paris y es de Friendly Fires, vean el video, ya sé que los estoy saturando con videos, pero está muy linda, lo prometo.
I'm writing a tale.
I'm writing a tale.
A tale that sings sad songs.
A tale that seems to be nothing more than just the corpse of a sigh.
Nothing that I'm writing has a straight direction.
I don't have one either, why would my writings should follow the same path?
There's always a song.
The same song. Over and over again.
And it sounds like a tale.
A tale that tells sad songs.
A tale that sounds like a story. My story.
And sometimes I wonder how I came to have one.
I've done many things in my life. None of them deserve a tale.
Not even a port-manteau word.
I'm living a tale because I can't write it.
This ain't a happy-ending story.
Anguish. Or the lack of any other emotion.
Scared as hell cuz there might be this slight possibility that I'm falling for you.
I'm shredding a tale.
I'm erasing our tale.
I'm crying my tale.
And there's nothing you can do about it.
Noviembre
Cerrar podrá mis ojos la postrera
Sombra que me llevare el blanco día,
Y podrá desatar esta alma mía
Hora, a su afán ansioso lisonjera;
Mas no de esotra parte en la ribera
Dejará la memoria, en donde ardía:
Nadar sabe mi llama el agua fría,
Y perder el respeto a ley severa.
Alma, a quien todo un Dios prisión ha sido,
Venas, que humor a tanto fuego han dado,
Médulas, que han gloriosamente ardido,
Su cuerpo dejará, no su cuidado;
Serán ceniza, mas tendrá sentido;
Polvo serán, mas polvo enamorado.
Sombra que me llevare el blanco día,
Y podrá desatar esta alma mía
Hora, a su afán ansioso lisonjera;
Mas no de esotra parte en la ribera
Dejará la memoria, en donde ardía:
Nadar sabe mi llama el agua fría,
Y perder el respeto a ley severa.
Alma, a quien todo un Dios prisión ha sido,
Venas, que humor a tanto fuego han dado,
Médulas, que han gloriosamente ardido,
Su cuerpo dejará, no su cuidado;
Serán ceniza, mas tendrá sentido;
Polvo serán, mas polvo enamorado.
(Fco. de Quevedo)
