Cheer up crazy fellow!!!
"She made a pact of blood
Despite of me
I do not have to go back
blood in the streets, street
We must not live like this.
Because before your mother
long before the pain.
long before the pain.
Love changes your blood
Because the night is so soft
and the time is so happy
I do not pack
I do not feel anything".
Charly Garcia - Anhedonia/Como conseguir Chicas.
"...la persona màs mediocre puede ser objeto de un amor salvaje, extravagante y bello como los lirios venenosos en el pantano..."
"La Balada del Cafè Triste" - Carson McCullers.
Tonight, almost exhausted....not precisely because of hard coping with foolish ego, but mostly because of all comings and goings associated to been here and pretending not been here...at this hotel room like at any other hotel rooms in many other cities before...there are no clues left to be disclosed to find out if life had really a sense or it is deserve to be lived...thousands of possible phrases come and go as casual incidents that just stand in front of me or by my side.
I just can't tell if some of them are going to stay...uncertainty is the law that rules everything....nothing to loose, nothing to win...nothing else to go after..not any pretensions, not any lost meanings, just the feeling that in the surroundings some remembers will be anxiously chasing me as dreams that need to be dreamed more than thoughts that need to be think....surely the up coming phrase is laughing at me as I look my lay down body from the roof....and it wasn't a matter of finding the most appropriated bed to rest...it wasn't also something related to go forward up to the brake point that define the limits between the naive enthusiasm of a child and self forgiven resignation up on whatever it should come, it wasn't also related to the most appropriated place to rest the over density of my senseless emptiness....but if it was about something, that something would better be behind some hidden word that I won't ever be able to find to describe my starving for the so wanted unreachable state of dark by truly calm.
I'll better be chased by speechless sensations more than by written words, but upon to this moment, words are the only partners that I still have to deal with your absence or the sensation of scary solitude of not still hearing your breath some place closer to this imprecise geographical point in a map that won't ever be the same map of your dynamic territory…. a incidental burning arrow that like an asteroid plays turnarounds without possible paths to be followed and without any frozen blank to hit on to....sometime somewhere else I wish I could be as fast sighted so I could not loose my temper just because I had to accept that your nature is that one of an undoubted celestial body...but now that it is certain to me that I am about to become so fast sighted to loose my own down track away from you...I certainly would prefer to be blinded instead of watching heading away from me in the most nostalgic slow motion.
In the near sudden I can hear the beats of my low pace footsteps on the grey sand and I can smell the salty sea breeze drying the gestures of sadness that like time scarves in my face precisely describe a presence to be recognized an named, but nor my steps neither what could be called as a face will ever saved me from not finding out a way out of the heavenly sensation of staying stuck in that narrowed instant before you and after you.
Totally paralyzed in my loneliness I wont have the minimum strengths to continue and then and only then I will have to stop by before getting to the crossover where we were supposed to meet again each other and so my legs will start to weak up to a melting point of not any possible standee situation and I first will bend down to my knees and finally and without the chance to pray for clemency to our Mighty Lord, I will totally lost my conscience of all the reasonable facts that could explain why I wouldn’t be possible for us to be together again.
Shot your mouth demons of indecency! Can’t you see that I am no longer the old all horses riding cowboy? Can’t you see that I can not still survive this night in the midst of the body of one of your casual mistresses? Please, take away from my dick the sick lips of this toothless sucking bitch! Tell her to leave this room because I won’t ever have the money again to pay for her services on your evil behalf! Tell her to move aside of me the overwhelming nakedness of her inflamed dirty ass! I preach you! I don’t want any longer to be trapped under her stone cold blooded tits! Save me Lord because I wasn’t meant to sin tonight! Then if you are to take advantage of my desperation this night cut my cock with the tiniest and most effective razor blade that you may find and push the dead fleshed organ into my mouth! I promise you I won’t cry out loud, but please freeze me from all temptations!
"La Balada del Cafè Triste" - Carson McCullers.
Tonight, almost exhausted....not precisely because of hard coping with foolish ego, but mostly because of all comings and goings associated to been here and pretending not been here...at this hotel room like at any other hotel rooms in many other cities before...there are no clues left to be disclosed to find out if life had really a sense or it is deserve to be lived...thousands of possible phrases come and go as casual incidents that just stand in front of me or by my side.
I just can't tell if some of them are going to stay...uncertainty is the law that rules everything....nothing to loose, nothing to win...nothing else to go after..not any pretensions, not any lost meanings, just the feeling that in the surroundings some remembers will be anxiously chasing me as dreams that need to be dreamed more than thoughts that need to be think....surely the up coming phrase is laughing at me as I look my lay down body from the roof....and it wasn't a matter of finding the most appropriated bed to rest...it wasn't also something related to go forward up to the brake point that define the limits between the naive enthusiasm of a child and self forgiven resignation up on whatever it should come, it wasn't also related to the most appropriated place to rest the over density of my senseless emptiness....but if it was about something, that something would better be behind some hidden word that I won't ever be able to find to describe my starving for the so wanted unreachable state of dark by truly calm.
I'll better be chased by speechless sensations more than by written words, but upon to this moment, words are the only partners that I still have to deal with your absence or the sensation of scary solitude of not still hearing your breath some place closer to this imprecise geographical point in a map that won't ever be the same map of your dynamic territory…. a incidental burning arrow that like an asteroid plays turnarounds without possible paths to be followed and without any frozen blank to hit on to....sometime somewhere else I wish I could be as fast sighted so I could not loose my temper just because I had to accept that your nature is that one of an undoubted celestial body...but now that it is certain to me that I am about to become so fast sighted to loose my own down track away from you...I certainly would prefer to be blinded instead of watching heading away from me in the most nostalgic slow motion.
In the near sudden I can hear the beats of my low pace footsteps on the grey sand and I can smell the salty sea breeze drying the gestures of sadness that like time scarves in my face precisely describe a presence to be recognized an named, but nor my steps neither what could be called as a face will ever saved me from not finding out a way out of the heavenly sensation of staying stuck in that narrowed instant before you and after you.
Totally paralyzed in my loneliness I wont have the minimum strengths to continue and then and only then I will have to stop by before getting to the crossover where we were supposed to meet again each other and so my legs will start to weak up to a melting point of not any possible standee situation and I first will bend down to my knees and finally and without the chance to pray for clemency to our Mighty Lord, I will totally lost my conscience of all the reasonable facts that could explain why I wouldn’t be possible for us to be together again.
Shot your mouth demons of indecency! Can’t you see that I am no longer the old all horses riding cowboy? Can’t you see that I can not still survive this night in the midst of the body of one of your casual mistresses? Please, take away from my dick the sick lips of this toothless sucking bitch! Tell her to leave this room because I won’t ever have the money again to pay for her services on your evil behalf! Tell her to move aside of me the overwhelming nakedness of her inflamed dirty ass! I preach you! I don’t want any longer to be trapped under her stone cold blooded tits! Save me Lord because I wasn’t meant to sin tonight! Then if you are to take advantage of my desperation this night cut my cock with the tiniest and most effective razor blade that you may find and push the dead fleshed organ into my mouth! I promise you I won’t cry out loud, but please freeze me from all temptations!
So you finally felt in love my old horny buddy! But you were supposed not to love any one else before she showed you that you were nothing more than that forgettable young adolescent discovering his vulnerability about everything by watching her through the window of that room fool of books every afternoon when she was coming back from school. You were supposed to learn the lesson. Now you are claiming because of her absence, but, don’t you understand that you were always absent from her life during all this years? How can we blame of keep acting likewise if you were still waiting for her to noticing of your existence? It is not worthy for anyone to take care of you. Please allow us a little laughing and don’t take it personal since you are nothing more than someone whom can’t get rid of his nature. Cheer up crazy fellow, you’ve loved her for a while, but that doesn’t mean in any sense that you have to give up to her just because she had decided that you were finally for real after all.
We know, we know, since you were left hopeless about love then you decide to properly set boundaries to your heart, so you then on just constructed all your relationships based in lust and desired and became some sort of a most wanted “try it on once again and once again, ever since” best sexual partner by some “dare feel alive” girls. But, at the end, you were supposed to give up already and then just to restrict your hunger of desired to be pleased by cheap hookers and very casual encounters with unsatisfied women of non able to prove dignity and low self awareness of a minimum notion of how to become truly to be loved.
There you go folk, still lonely in her absence, anyways, anyhow, you were born to live without her, at least also tonight.
"En su biografìa, John Huston cuenta que cuando fuè a visitarla en su lecho de enferma (no podìa caminar y solo movìa los brazos), le preguntò que significaba ser escritora. , le contestò ella. Segùn Houston, en ese instante, el crucifijo que colgaba de la pared se desprendiò y se quedò balanceando hacia un costado, lo que hizo que ambos estallaran en carcajadas.
Como ocurre con frecuencia en los escritores, su vida se parecìa a la des sus personajes. Sì hay algo en el sordomudo Singer o en el jorobado Lymon o en la amozònica giganta Miss Amelia, es su soledad radical.Todos tienen una caracterìstica que resulta en una forma de rechazo, lo que aumenta su deseo de amar y ser amados".
"Una soledad radical" - Alonso Cueto (Peruano), sobre McCullers.
There you go folk, still lonely in her absence, anyways, anyhow, you were born to live without her, at least also tonight.
"En su biografìa, John Huston cuenta que cuando fuè a visitarla en su lecho de enferma (no podìa caminar y solo movìa los brazos), le preguntò que significaba ser escritora. , le contestò ella. Segùn Houston, en ese instante, el crucifijo que colgaba de la pared se desprendiò y se quedò balanceando hacia un costado, lo que hizo que ambos estallaran en carcajadas.
Como ocurre con frecuencia en los escritores, su vida se parecìa a la des sus personajes. Sì hay algo en el sordomudo Singer o en el jorobado Lymon o en la amozònica giganta Miss Amelia, es su soledad radical.Todos tienen una caracterìstica que resulta en una forma de rechazo, lo que aumenta su deseo de amar y ser amados".
"Una soledad radical" - Alonso Cueto (Peruano), sobre McCullers.
"Las prisiones se construyen con piedras de Ley; los burdeles con ladrillos de religión".
Billy Blake.
posted by Joe Bartlett @ 8:03 PM
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