Thursday 19 May 2011

La la la la la, la la.

I don’t usually occupy any accessory as cell phones, IPhones, watches, or things like that. I try to walk weightless; just with a few coins in my pockets and a cigarette box. Just that. But there is something that I can’t be without. Music while I’m walking-or everywhere-. One of the few technologic things that I use daily is my IPod, cuz it unplugged me from the rest -put on my headphones, push play, then I'm with myself-; also, it helps me to create things like “perfect moments”, bringing music to the things I see.
For example: You’re walking in the downtown, is the early winter, the leaves are moist in the ground (making, the lifeless grey of the cobblestones mixed with the sprightly crimson of the leaves, a perfect picture ), and you can smell the frosty and wet soil; the faces are pale because the cold wind, people are buried in their coats as if they were keeping a big secret under their clothes; you're just a walking shadow upstream, giving life to this picture without them knowing - they're just actors on this comedy-; the sun becomes an orphan boat in the vast cloudy ocean, and its rays serves only for bathing the heads out of ideas. At the background sounds "These Days", by Nico, and the gestures of the time are more graceful. The things come alive at your wise.

My career

The Clash


They offered me the office, offered me the shop
They said I'd better take anything they'd got
Do you wanna make tea at the BBC?
Do you wanna be, do you really wanna be a cop?
Career opportunities are the ones that never knock
Every job they offer you is to keep you out the dock
Career opportunity, the ones that never knock
I hate the army an' I hate the R.A.F.
I don't wanna go fighting in the tropical heat
I hate the civil service rules
And I won't open letter bombs for you
Bus driver....ambulance man....ticket inspector
They're gonna have to introduce conscription
They're gonna have to take away my prescription
If they wanna get me making toys
If they wanna get me, well, I got no choice
Careers
Careers
Careers
Ain't never gonna knock

Wednesday 6 April 2011

Without words, it’s better

"Without music, life would be a mistake." , said once a mustachioed fellow.

What kind of silly question is “Do you like music?”?, because everyone likes to listen somethin' that they can’t say, but the melodies or lyrics can; can take what you feel inside.

All the “good” composers (because there is a LOT of crappy musicians) understand that connection between the feelings -the things you can not tell by the guilt of the useless words- and the compositions. Chopin understood that connection, by playing piano –that monster- and make it cry and laugh; he put at the melodies the anger, the sadness, the desolation, the Love –in his real leanguage: the Music-, the childhood, the Time that not forgives and all that crucible of things that we call “feelings”.

Hendrix understood too, by his way. He could talk the lenguage of his guitar, he could make love to her and fall in the torrent of the melodies, the ecstasy of the holy communion among man and Music.
Saving the list of artist (or wizards) who could touch the Hidden Muse – Cobain, Curtis, Wagner, Reed, Bowie, Morrisey, Morrison, Parra, York, Sinatra, Sabina, and a long etc.-, I’ll keep with the last poète maudi: Bob Dylan, or Rimabud with a guitar slung on his back.

But, why Dylan? Just because the lyrics, as a mirror of the soul of the deprived of life and the commons feelings, the ones who maximize the emotions, or experience emotions as they should be lived. Listening to their songs, I feel like I’m reading my very own diary, as if this life has already been experinced; or this soulmate is telling me the history of my life, telling me about the scars of time, with his guitar. And while I’m paying attention, cigarretes ashes there they go on the floor.  

Tuesday 5 April 2011

A small welcome



Something about me before all the lies I’ll write.

My name is at the bottom of the blog; I’m 19, but sometimes I got wrong and said 18 (but not because some kind of girly hedonism,maybe just my unconsciousness talks for me); I like to take long walks through the city, or travel it on my bycicle; watching the crowd- their faces that speaks for them-the little thing that no one cares- the richest to me-, sit on a park and smoke,smoke and smoke, and read a book by a crazy guy.

What are my intentions on this blog? Well..that you enjoy it or hate it.

Welcome.