But normal is just a long time forgotten something. In his eyes, you can see that in his eyes; He’s lost. He’s nowhere to be found, although he does not cry for being lost is all he has ever known and the minute he found that path, that secure path that was leading somewhere they, they took it way. They shattered it. They took on single dream and made from it a nightmare, one that, now, he must be living in without gasping. But, for her, he’s quite normal, she said.
She’s quite beautiful- he said
But what does beautiful means if not one strange, weird, funny thing that happens only in the eyes of the person that is admiring the beauty? She’s not herself in front of the mirror. Her reflection is gorgeous, but also fictitious. And as her tears roll down her face, as she fades away, she really believes that her whole self could be improved by clinical procedures, though almost every girl dreams with a new nose or bigger breasts, she thinks more about getting induced into a comma and waking up buried in some unfamiliar graveyard. But for him, she’s quite beautiful, he said.
This is not the night when they met, this is the moment when they realized that a path could be hidden in some girl’s eyes and that beauty could come from the touch of some guy’s hand, but also that was the moment when they though, in unison “too good to true” But, what’s true anyhow?
This is a song by Johnossi that really got me thinking... do I want anyone to pick me up? But I'm sure you are not just anyone... you are the one! and once I meet you... there will be no place you can run to!
Sunrise,sunrise I'm sleepy hard
I should get up to school but I couldn't get out of bed
I never came back alive from the dream that I had
it seemed like every night then,every night
Spoiled,oh yes I've always been wanting more at first sight of your life then the sight of a whore
because it all comes down to the nightmares I've had,
and I don't think you'll understand
I was on the lonliest road girl,yes I was,
you put me back on it,
yeah you did and I will walk here until the end of time
if you don't send a rescue team
but I ain't really sure if I want you to
A new morning arrived,I'm the greatest hero,I felt the comfort
reminding of my time in utero
One creates nothing but two creates one and I kill my half
'Cause I'm the son of a gun girl,yes I am,
on this lonely road girl,that I'm on,
and I will walk here until the end of time
if you don't send a rescue team,
but I ain't really sure if I want you to
No I ain't really sure if I want you to,
perhaps I'd rather be on my own
No I don't think I want you to carry me home
A las dos de la mañana tu reloj decidió despertarte con las ganas entre las piernas. A las dos de la mañana tus ojos se abrían y entrecerraban mientras tus manos aventureras atentaban contra mi dormir. A las dos de la mañana el roce de tu cuerpo contra mi espalda, el calor que en el cuarto se encerraba, a las dos de la mañana las ganas no te dejaban dormir y a mí tampoco.
A las tres de la mañana la obra que Dios hizo de tu cuerpo seguía, desnudo, tirado en la cama; a mí me costaba dormir, por el recuerdo de las marcas de mis manos en tu almohada, por el fresco recuerdo de las marcas de tus manos en mi piel, por el sabor que permanece latente de tus besos en mi orgullo y por el sabor de tu orgullo que se impregna en estas mis palabras; sin mencionar, claro, por el sonido a victoria cincelado en la pared.
Ahora a las tres treinta de la mañana me preparas café con el gusto de haberte convertido en la musa de esta madrugada, con el gusto que este escribiendo gracias a ti o a tus ganas, pero qué más da la razón mientras tú me atiendas, estés contenta y yo escriba, pues le tengo gusto profundo a escribir.
P.S. ahora no me tientes a escribir en ti.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Hoy tú eres el lado oscuro y a mí me falta la fuerza.
