Ánima (3)

- I am free, says Ánima, I know. THE only prison I might be in, is inside my thoughts, which absorb me and sometimes force me down.

TWO days ago she was riding a dangerous path inside her head.

- MAYBE my mind shouldn't be that vague and extense, so I could be more precise. She admits.
BUT I wonder. That doesn't mean that I get to any conclusions, I just wonder.

vive la france

Então, não vou à Paris, vou à Lyon.
Family is in Geneve e vão de carro pra lá (é pertinho). Eu queria Avignon, mas pra eles é longe.
Em Avignon, pode-se encontrar muitos resquícios medievais interessantes....É o único lugar no mundo que um dia albergou o Vaticano (Roma à parte), ou foi residência papal, ou coisa que o valha. Could be cool.
Mas Lyon será.

Eu fiz 5 entrevistas no mesmo lugar: processo de seleção do C**** que me faz pegar um trem às 8 da manhã pra provar minhas aptitudes e testar a minha mente (que, digamos, é pra lá de perturbada).

Em algum momento da minha vida vou ter de chegar à conclusão que só presto (profissionalmente) para a prestação de serviços e me resignarei à esse exercício tão digno.

Então, não abraçarei a tal da torre, porém talvez algum outro monumento menos desconhecido e/ou mais interessante.

Too young ... Too tough ... Too late

Too young to be square... Too tough to be shocked... Too late to be saved

Cada día hace más de 10 años, lloro solo una lágrima.

(Cry Baby Deep)

Sit there and count your fingers
What can you do
Little girl you're through
Sit there, count your little fingers
Unhappy little girl blue.
Sit there and count the raindrops
Falling on you
It's time you knew
All you can ever count on
Are the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
Won't you just sit there
Count the little raindrops
Falling on you
'Cause it's time you knew
All you can ever count on
Are the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
No use old girl
You might as well surrender
'Cause your hopes are getting slender and slender
Why won't somebody send a tender blue boy
To cheer up little girl blue

(Lorenz Hart on Jumbo)

<3 Vanishing Love <3

As all love is
As today I say everything
to make you stay
As I recall all poets
and pray for everething
to remain the same

Oh, vanishing love
cloudy and bright
vanishing love
so truthful in its lie

As you once said
As I once heard
As one day this will end
As all the others have gone

Oh, vanishing
love cloudy and bright
vanishing love
so truthful in its lie

I once believed
I once looked after it all
But it changes as summer to fall
It will pass though you don´t see it now

Oh, vanishing love
cloudy and bright
vanishing love
so truthful in its lie

when someone says `I love you´

Orginal

Strikt

Complicated

Fair

Inteligent

Warmhearted

Friendly

Sometimes Stressed

Sometimes Calm

Thoughtful

Helpful

Interesting

Entertaining

Clumsy

Sweet

Wonerable

Insecure

Sometimes very difficult

Tender

Beautiful

Very sexy

:: it’s better to burn out than to fade away ::

my my hey hey,
rock and roll is here to stay
it’s better to burn out
than to fade away
my my hey hey

out of the blue and into the black
you pay for this, but they give you that
and once you're gone, you can't come back
when you're out of the blue and into the black.

the king is gone but he's not forgotten
is this the story of johnny rotten?
it's better to burn out 'cause rust never sleeps
the king is gone but he's not forgotten.

hey hey, my my
rock and roll can never die
there's more to the picture
than meets the eye.

(young)

Ab imo pectore

Ánima (2)

HOY Ánima se viste de negro para sumergirse en la multitud. Gradualmente desaparecerá y esa será su libertad definitiva. Porque paso a paso se transformará en una parte de todo y dejará de ser Ánima.

MAL puede esperar. Tanto tiempo construyendo castillos, tanto tiempo golpeándole a la suerte y al destino, solo para verse embutida en sórdidas transacciones. Y ver a los ladrillos precipitarse sobre su cabeza.

- Solo tengo frío, dice. Porque es lo único que le queda. No podrá escaparse de los instintos 

básicos del ser humano, tal como el amor. Pero lo renuncia. 

-Todo ha perdido el sentido y me encuentro como un animal. Ya no soy parte de eso. No 

encajo y tampoco hay espacio para mi o para lo que soy y lo que siento, se resigna.

-El mundo te va a engullir como un león feroz con ganas de sangre, le dice el otro. Y cuando 

estés en medio a sangre y desesperación verás a tu lado, pegado a tu camino, aquel.

PERO ella ya no escucha. Su mundo ya es otro. Pasado, presente y futuro se funden en uno para mostrarle la insignificancia de su existencia, y la no importancia de sus actos.

UNA mujer viene al mundo y ese se le cae encima.  

  

Ánima (1)

-YO no quiero nada y el nada me persigue como un viajante nocturno por la densa cuidad.
NO te puedes imaginar como es profundo y obscuro el hueco donde me encuentro, dice
Ánima con la voz entrecortada.

PERO, de esperarse, no obtiene respuesta. Y su llanto se refleja por las calles, grisáceas. Ella
brilla. Emana ese patético brillo de la tristeza, que algunos insisten en vanagloriar. Al darse
cuenta, se ríe. Con eso basta.

YA tener uno que despertarse y romper con sus principios de manera tan tajante la atormenta,
y ella sigue. Mintiendo entre sonrisas a los cambiantes e ignorantes de la exasperación que hay
en el mundo.

-PERO quién soy yo para decirte nada?, se va por las paredes a gritar. Si desde mi hueco no
veo nada..... si todo lo que creo ver, lo tengo adentro.

NO, mujer, ya te contamos que ´el infierno son los otros´, si es que no te acuerdas? -suplican.

NADA. Aquí no hay otros. Quizás otros de una misma.

Ab imo pectore

Ab imo pectore

le yves klein bleu

Oslo Sessions: "Northen Landscape"

The perception of beauty

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context. If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

Oslo Sessions: "The Blue Hour"

(..) espacaio en blanco

Si buscabas aniquilación
aqui me tienes
si ya no encuentras consuelo
cruza el puente
porque en la nube cargada de lluvia
hay gente
que late y que siente, pero miente

Qué vamos a hacer con la carga abrumadora
que machaca nuestras nueces
violenta nuestras almas
pero aparenta tanta calma

Qué vas a hacer
en universos tan oscuros
ojos abiertos
chocando en muros
bañándose en aguas cristalinas
de dulce sabor pero dañina

Hablemos de muerte
Para qué te engañas?
Si cada mañana
nos desnudamos para
brindar la vida
y disfrazar la carencia embutida
lavándonos la herida

Basta de globos colorados
flotando en la selva y parate estrecho
véngate con gana
apreta el comando
enchufa la esperanza.

y vuela.