Thursday
Wednesday
birthday
Tuesday
hairdresserOnFire
ok, i have two options:
1- i may wear a hat
or
2- i may stay in home till my hair grows again*
*i'm gonna kill my hairdresser.
**i look like a boy (this is so tragic and sad)
Sunday
Saturday
Friday
Маяковский
untitled
You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt
landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and
unsuspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods--
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.
You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house-- , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,--
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and,
startled, gave back my too-sudden image.
Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...
Rainer Maria Rilke
Thursday
Wednesday
Monday
Sunday
chapter7
You look at me, from close up you look at me, closer and closer and then we play cyclops, we look closer and closer at one another and our eyes get larger, they come closer, they merge into one and the two cyplopses look at each other, blending as they breathe, our mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tongues on their teeth, playing in corners where a heavy air comes and goes with an old perfume and a silence. Then my hands go to sink into your hair, to cherish slowly the depth of your hair while we kiss as if our mouths were filled with flowers or with fish, with lively movements and dark fragrance. And if we bite each other the pain is sweet, and if we smother each other in a brief and terrible sucking in together of our breaths, that momentary death is beautiful. And there is but one saliva and one flavor of ripe fruit, and I feel you tremble against me like a moon on the water."
*hopscotch, julio cortázar
Saturday
casablanca
Friday
Thursday
Wednesday
Tuesday
Monday
slim
ok, let's suppose that i bought something for you in a moment, when you were fat (but strong as a bull, we know that) and beautiful too... because you can be a beautiful fat.
so, let's suppose that i bought a special stuff, in a special moment, and it means a lot, it's a kind of souvenir or something like that, but the point is that this is a large-large, so large (i'm talking about the size, sure) thing that now you can seem like a small boy inside of it... because now you are not fat, but you are still beautiful, a beautiful thin, you know.
so, what do i do?
do i keep that large large so large thing that can be wear for a fat and strong spanish bull for sending it to you (and maybe you can wear it over your adored leather jacket) or do i throw it to the garbage, for being rescued by a dozen of homeless who can sleep covered with it?
Sunday
Saturday
Friday
favourites
Jobriath - 'Jobriath'
Jeff Buckley - 'Grace'
The Smoking Popes - 'Born To Quit'
Damien Dempsey - 'Seize The Day'
Roxy Music - 'For Your Pleasure'
The Velvet Underground - 'The Velvet Underground & Nico'
The Velvet Underground - 'White Light/White Heat'
Sparks - 'Kimono My House'
Iggy & The Stooges - 'Raw Power'
Nico - 'Chelsea Girl'
Patti Smith - 'Horses'
Ramones - 'Ramones'
New York Dolls - 'New York Dolls'
*album n° 2....
Thursday
more
johnny marr (the smiths)
both of them are so adorable
what else?
oh, yes, besides there is a beautiful bird in the video
*this song was co written by neil tennant (pet shop boys), inspired by morrissey's public stereotyping as unloveable
**however i look is clear to see
Wednesday
u.U
still collecting things.
little things but with a deep deep meaning (at least for me)
few stuffs in life make me happier than this "collecting behaviour", specially when i find something special, but i wont say what it is*
*just consider nothing in particular
Tuesday
war
somuch
*cut here and the cure have the same letters, robert smith wrote this song one of the many times that he said that "the cure" was over.
**i like the way that simon moves while he plays the bass
Monday
celebration
Sunday
-
Saturday
with
*something inside the cards i know is right. dont want to live somebody elses life
Thursday
without
if i were brave enough i could write that nothing here (in this blog) has sense without you.
but we all know perfectly that i'm a complete coward who is not able of writing a thing like that.*
*thanks jesus that nobody is reading (this blog) right now