Espero que dure este blog, o por lo menos esta fracción de vida que le devolví después de quitársela violentamente 783457934 veces. Traté con el Tumbrl, pero no lo entiendo, ya fue. Viva el blogspot.

Vegetarian Scene from Everything is Illuminated

Y sin planearlo tú, acaso como quien sin quererlo, va y lo hace: te vi cambiar tu paso hasta ponerlo en fase, es la misma fase que mi propio paso.
Ir y venir, seguir y guiar, dar y tener, entrar y salir de fase: amar la trama más que el desenlace.
Fue un salto ínfimo, disimulado, un mínimo cambio de ritmo apenas, un paso cambiado y dos cuerdas que resuenan; como un mismo número en distintos dados, o el paso exacto de los soldados; como dos focos intermitentes súbitamente así: sincronizados.

(Ay, Jorgito).

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered".
N. Mandela.

Nino is late.
Amelie can only see two explanations.
1 - he didn't get the photo.
2 - before he could assemble it, a gang of bank robbers took him hostage. The cops gave chase. They got away... but he caused a crash. When he came to, he'd lost his memory. An ex-con picked him up, mistook him for a fugitive, and shipped him to Istanbul. There he met some Afghan raiders who too him to steal some Russian warheads. But their truck hit a mine in Tajikistan. He survived, took to the hills, and became a Mujaheddin.
Amelie refuses to get upset for a guy who'll eat borscht all his life in a hat like a tea cozy.

Me mató este comentario en la videoconferencia de Aníbal Fernández:

[Comentario de LISANDRO LISANDRO:]

MAJUL DAS VERGUENZA, TENES MENOS INSIDENCIA EN LA OPINION PUBLICA, NI TU CUERPO PIDE TU CABEZA!

Agregado cholulo: Me di cuenta que es el mismo programa de videoconferencia y videochat que usaron Danny Jones y Popstar to Operastar.

cumpleaños feliz pilar.

CLARAMENTE.-

En un test me dijeron que era "plodder".
Me mata cómo se pronuncia la traducción.

From the way that you acted to the way that I felt it, it wasn't worth my time. And now it's sad cause all I missed wasn't that good to begin with. And now I've started to beg you saying things that you don't mean... it isn't worth my time! A line's a dime a million times, and I'm about to see all of them. Goodbye to you, you're taking up my time.
You call my name when I wake up to see things go your way, I'm coughing up my time. Each drag's a drop of blood; a grain, a minute of my life it's all I've got just to stay down.Why do you think that I'm still down? I'm hoarding all that's mine. Each time I let just one slip by I'm wasting what is mine.
I'm about to see a million things I thought I’d never seen before, and I... I'm about to do all of the things I dreamed of and I don’t even miss you at all.-
(Bulimic - The Used).

Tuviste inglés con Osvaldo "Osvi" Vallone? Clickeá! El mejor grupo en la historia de Caralibro, y sin dudas el más justo.

Count one, two, three: you got me on my knees and there's blood on the ground, you keep me hanging around the crime scene. Here's my heart tonight, go on and take a bite.
Said four, five, six; gotta get my fix. You gotta get me off, am I good enough for your kiss? 'Cause here's my heart tonight, go on and take a bite and chew me up, I just want a taste. When you spit me out put me in my place. So chew me up, it's written on your face tonight, I give myself for you, nothing left to lose. Well, you chew me up, 'cause, baby, all I want is you tonight.
And you're the stuff that dreams are made of, take a bite and taste my true love. It's out of sight and you know it's so right.

Ven? Beakman = Amor.

Kristen Stewart.-

"Aprendí que no se puede dar marcha atrás, que la esencia de la vida es ir hacia adelante. La vida, en realidad, es una calle de sentido único."
Agatha Christie.

Unos maestros..:

Y sin tenerte, te tengo a vos y tengo a mi guitarra.
Hay tantas cosas,
Yo sólo preciso dos:
Mi guitarra y vos.

Hay cines, hay trenes, hay cacerolas, hay fórmulas hasta para describir la espiral de una caracola. Hay más: hay tráfico, créditos, cláusulas, salas VIP. Hay cápsulas hipnóticas y tomografias computarizadas, hay condiciones para la constitución de una sociedad limitada. Hay biberones y hay obúses, hay tabúes, hay besos. Hay hambre y hay sobrepeso, hay curas de sueño y tisanas, hay drogas de diseño y perros adictos a las drogas en las aduanas. Hay manos capaces de fabricar herramientas con las que se hacen máquinas para hacer ordenadores, que a su vez diseñan máquinas que hacen herramientas para que las use la mano. Hay escritas infinitas palabras: zen, gol, bang, rap, Dios, fin...

Hay tantas cosas
Yo sólo preciso dos:
Mi guitarra y vos.

- Si fuese francesa y cincuentona, te encuentro y me caso con vos. -

Hoy vi una remera que decía "Fleur" y arriba tenía un dibujito de una flor. Como estoy enganchada con el francés, pelé Google Tools; y sí, como pensaba: fleur es flor en francés! Me encanta, me encanta, Fleur Viva. Y se pronuncia re divertido, mirá: apretá el botoncito con el parlante.
Por otro lado, me molesta, claro.
Osea, me tengo que bancar que la inepta de Clemence Poèsy interprete a Fleur Delacour, a mi tocaya!
Pero buah, c'est la vie.

Ven, cura esta pena, quítame estas ganas de tí. Ven, que está frío fuera y hace tanto calor aquí. Te vi cruzar la calle y algo crujió dentro de mí. Ven, que ya se hace tarde y este tren se está por ir.
Ten piedad de un simple mortal. Ven, cura esta herida, este blues de incierto final. Tu piel traerá perfumes, reflejos de estrella fugaz. Ven, ya no lo dudes, no hará falta nada más.

"No pretendamos que las cosas cambien, si siempre hacemos lo mismo. La crisis es la mejor bendición que puede sucederle a personas y países, porque la crisis trae progresos. La creatividad nace de la angustia como el día nace de la noche oscura. Es en la crisis que nace la inventiva, los descubrimientos y las grandes estrategias. Quien supera la crisis se supera a sí mismo sin quedar "superado". Quien atribuye a la crisis sus fracasos y penurias, violenta su propio talento y respeta más a los problemas que a las soluciones. La verdadera crisis, es la crisis de la incompetencia. El inconveniente de las personas es la pereza para encontrar las salidas y soluciones. Sin crisis no hay desafíos, sin desafíos la vida es una rutina, una lenta agonía. Sin crisis no hay méritos. Es en la crisis donde aflora lo mejor de cada uno, porque sin crisis todo viento es caricia. Hablar de crisis es promoverla, y callar en la crisis es exaltar el conformismo. En vez de esto, trabajemos duro. Acabemos de una vez con la única crisis amenazadora, que es la tragedia de no querer luchar por superarla."

Albert Einstein.

- heavy rock socks! -

El álbum "Las cosas no cambian, sólo tu manera de verlas" me da hasta escalofríos, con las fotos que tiene adentro. Cada cosa aprendí de esos boluditos! Te lo recomiendo. Y si no sabés nada de alguno, investigá porque de verdad se ZARPAN.
Están entre otros Henri Cartier-Bresson, Yann Tiersen y Chaplin. Ay, son lo másh másh másh.

Vamos a ser claros:
> Ironía (irónica): 1. Burla fina y disimulada. 2. f. Tono burlón con que se dice. 3. f. Figura retórica que consiste en dar a entender lo contrario de lo que se dice.
> Paradojo (paradoja): 1. f. Idea extraña u opuesta a la común opinión y al sentir de las personas. 2. f. Aserción inverosímil o absurda, que se presenta con apariencias de verdadera. 3. f. Ret. Figura de pensamiento que consiste en emplear expresiones o frases que envuelven contradicción. Por ejemplo: Mira al avaro, en sus riquezas, pobre.

"Y era como si los dos hubiéramos estado viviendo en pasadizos o túneles paralelos, sin saber que íbamos el uno al lado del otro, como almas semejantes en tiempos semejantes, para encontrarnos al fin de esos pasadizos, delante de una escena pintada por mí como clave destinada a ella sola, como un secreto anuncio de que ya estaba yo allí y que los pasadizos se habían por fin unido y que la hora del encuentro había llegado.
¡La hora del encuentro había llegado! Pero ¿realmente los pasadizos se habían unido y nuestras almas se habían comunicado? ¡Qué estúpida ilusión mía había sido todo esto! No, los pasadizos seguían paralelos como antes, aunque ahora el muro que los separaba fuera como un muro de vidrio y yo pudiese verla a María como una figura silenciosa e intocable... No, nisiquiera ese muro era siempre así: a veces volvía a ser piedra negra y entonces yo no sabía qué pasaba del otro lado, qué era de ella en esos intervalos anónimos, qué extraños sucesos acontecían; y hasta pensaba que en esos momentos su rostro cambiaba y que una mueca de burla lo deformaba y que quizá había risas cruzadas con otro y que toda la historia de los pasadizos era una ridícula invención o creencia mía y que en todo caso había un solo túnel oscuro y solitario: el mío, el túnel en que había transcurrido mi infancia, mi juventud, toda mi vida."

E. Sábato, El Túnel.

Extraordinario.-

Las fotos de Florencia están acá.
Y si sos amigo mío en facebook, acá.
Y si estás aburrido, podés chusmear esto.

I´ve been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that´s just who I am this week
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum
I´m just a notch in your bedpost
But you´re just a line in a song.-

The Beatles - You´ve got to hide your love away

es mentira que escribo las canciones de amor pensando en tí. es mentira que fui ladrón de bancos, es mentira que no lo vuelva a ser. yo sólo te conté media verdad al revés, que no es igual que media mentira.

Better run for cover, you're a hurricane full of lies. And the way you're heading no one's getting out alive. So do us all a favor, would you find somebody else to blame? 'Cause your words are like bullets and I'm the way your weapons aim. I guess I could fill a book with things that I don't know about you baby. You're not misunderstood but you got- you got to go. Living in a fantasy, don't even know reality. When you start talking I start walking, lies, lies, lies. Don't even wanna know the truth, the devil has his eye on you, girl. So don't forget your seatbelt, don't you think of picking up the phone. Better say your prayers 'cause you're never gonna make it home. Did you miss the stop sign? That last decision was your last, 'cause you can't come back once you're lying in the broken glass. And I hope you get to hear me say, "Who gets the last laugh now?" No more excuses, no more running, only God can save you now 'cause I know the truth; time is running out. And I'm just one drink away, and I'm back in Wonderland like it was yesterday. And I hope you get to hear me say, "Who gets the last- who gets the last- who gets the last laugh now?"

The girl and the ghost sit in the corner. The girl and the ghost, seems they have a lot to say. The girl and the ghost haven't seen each other in three years. The girl and the ghost feel simple seconds slipped away. The ghost and the girl, commonly connected by something bigger. A phenomenal set of the eternal trigger, that lets the light through that usually goes around, and around, and around. The girl and the ghost meet in the corridor. The girl and the ghost. They touch fingers and walk right through. The girl and the ghost feel so familiar and fearless. The girl and the ghost know each other like other people do.

-Freddie Mercury-

In a dream you appear for a while, you were here so I keep sleeping just to keep you with me. I'll draw a map, connect the dots with all the memories that I got. What I'm missing I'll keep reliving. Where does the love go? I don't know, when it's all set and done. How could I be losing you forever, after all the time we spent together? I have to know why I had to lose you. Now you've just become like everything I'll never find again at the bottom of the ocean.

She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white. Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember what you heard. She likes to leave you hanging on her word. And she's taller than most, and she's looking at me. I can see her eyes looking from a page in a magazine. Oh, she makes me feel like I could be a tower. A big strong tower. She got the power to be- the power to give- the power to see- ya, ya.

"Gone With The Wind"

I am restless, and I keep trembling. Everyone watch me as I descend into a feeling that's overwhelming me. I finally stopped, stopped making sense. I can't stop talking to myself, I'm a desperate, cry for help. Run, don't walk, the sky is falling through. Don't talk, tonight I'm so confused. I'm lost, I'm lost with you. I don't care where we are, or where we're heading to. But I know I'm lost, I'm lost with you, with you. Your mouth keeps moving but I've lost focus now. Clock keeps ticking, time's running out. Where we're heading there's no heading back.

"Amelie."

¡ But you aren't even listening, because you are just too old to feel an earthquake or too cool to even care. But you aren't even listening, so why should I? You are a natural disaster, and I've wanted you too much. And now I'm gonna lose, I've wanted you too much and now I've gotta choose. You're the cause of all this, and I'm sick of trying to please you !

La muerte no es más que un viaje, semejante al que realizan dos amigos al separarse para atravesar los mares. Como aún se necesitan, ellos siguen viviendo el uno en el otro y se aman en una realidad omnipresente. En dicho divino espejo se ven cara a cara, y su conversación fluye con pureza y libertad. Tal es el consuelo de los amigos: aunque se diga que han muerto, su amistad y su compañía no desaparecen, porque éstas son inmortales. (William Penn, More Fruits Of Solitude)

Ya no es mágico el mundo. Te han dejado / Ya no compartirás la clara luna / Ni los lentos jardines. Ya no hay una / Luna que no sea espejo del pasado, / Cristal de soledad, sol de agonías. / Adiós las mutuas manos y las sienes / Que acercaba el amor. Hoy sólo tienes / La fiel memoria y los desiertos días. / Nadie pierde (repites vanamente) / Sino lo que no tiene y no ha tenido / Nunca, pero no basta ser valiente / Para aprender el arte del olvido. / Un símbolo, una rosa, te desgarra / Y te puede matar una guitarra. (Borges)

Why does it feel like it's raining in my head? I don't understand. Why are you always complaining about me? You don't even know who I am. Don't think I wanna know you, I'm tired of running after you. I won't send you a sorry card 'cos I don't need you. I've given up and never reminisce, I found a way of getting over this. I let go in everyway 'cos I don't need you. I feel that it's time for me to draw the line- I know that I'll be fine without your bitchin'. 'Cos everyday I become a little less numb like I don't even know you.

-carpe diem-

Some people laugh, some people cry, some people live, some people die. Some people run right into the fire, and some people hide their every desire. But we are the lovers; if you don't believe me, then just look into my eyes 'cause the heart never lies. Some people fight, some people fall. Others pretend they don't care at all. If you wanna fight I'll stand right beside you. The day that you fall, I'll be right behind you to pick up the pieces. If you don't believe me, then just look into my eyes, 'cause the heart never lies. Another year over and we're still together, it's not always easy, but I'm here forever. Yeah, we are the lovers. I know you believe me when you look into my eyes, 'cause the heart never lies, 'cause the heart never lies, yeah, because the heart never lies.

Yo era como una luna perdida- una luna cuyo planeta había resultado destruido, igual que en el guión de una película de cataclismos y catástrofes, que, sin embargo, había ignorado todas las leyes de gravedad para seguir orbitando alrededor del espacio vacío que había quedado tras el desastre.
(Stephenie Meyer)

Le Roi et les nobles se rassemblèrent pour ècouter. Le Fou se racla une foise la gorge, puis leur fit partde son raisonnement: "C'est vraiment très simple: si j'etais un Roi, dit le Fou, j'aurais besoin d'un Fou. Et si le Fou ètait Roi, alors le Fou de ce Roi serait vraiment l'incarnation même de la folie. Une folie si folle qu'elle serait sans doute sagesse. Car si le Fou est Roi, le Roi est Fou, et si l'un est l'autre, douc les deux font un, telles la tête et la queue qui ensamble, dècident qui mème le monde, l'une mardrant vers le nord et l'autre pointant vers le soud ou vice versa, tout etant relatif selon le point de vue d'ou l'on se place. Vous eyez?". Les nobles et le Roi n'y voyant rien, le Fou prit una longue inspiration, ayant peine à disimuler son petit sourire narquois puis reprit à nouveau: "Vous veyez, c'est vraiment trés simple.."

I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be. Too many bitter tears are raining down on me. I'm far away from home, and I've been facing this alone for much too long. I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me about growing up and what a struggle it would be. In my tangled state of mind I've been looking back to find where I went wrong. Too much love will kill you if you can't make up your mind, torn between the lover, and the love you leave behind. You're headed for disaster 'cos you never read the signs. Too much love will kill you. Every time. I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be and it seems like there's no way out of this for me. I used to bring you sunshine, now all I ever do is bring you down. How would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose? No, there's no making sense of it, every way I go I'm bound to lose. Too much love will kill you just as sure as none at all. It'll drain the power that's in you, make you plead and scream and crawl. And the pain will make you crazy, you're the victim of your crime. Too much love will kill you, it'll make your life a lie. Yes, too much love will kill you and you won't understand why. You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul. But here it comes again: too much love will kill you.

When you're around I don't know what to do, I do not think that I can wait to go over and to talk to you. I do not know what I should say, and I walk out in silence. That's when I start to realize what you bring to my life; damn, this guy can make me cry. It's so contagious, I cannot get it out of my mind. It's so outrageous, you make me feel so high all the time. They all say that you're no good for me, but I'm too close to turn around. I'll show them they don't know anything, I think I've got you figured out. I'll give you everything, I'll treat you right, if you just give me a chance I can prove I'm right.

i get this feeling deep inside that somewhere somehow you've passed me by. i can't put my finger on it but the more that i see you the more that i know everywhere you go is everywhere i've been, you finsh all my sentences before they begin. and i know that look in your eyes like i've seen it before about a million times. in another life maybe, in another life you must've been mine.

I'm sitting in a room, made up of only big white walls and in the halls there's people looking through the window though they know exactly what we're here for. Don't look up, just let them think. There's no place else you'd rather be. You're always on display for everyone to watch and learn from. Don't you know by now you can't turn back? Because this road is all you'll ever have. And it's obvious that you're dying, dying; just living proof that the camera's lying. And open wide, 'cause this is your night. So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style, you'll go out in style. If you let me I could, I'd show you how to build your fences, set restrictions, separate from the world.

Soledad. Es un sabor ácido del cual unos pocos se enamoran.

When everything is going wrong and things are just a little strange, it's been so long now you've forgotten how to smile. And overhead the skies are clear but it still seems to rain on you, and your only friends all have better things to do. When you're down and lost and you need a helping hand; when you're down and lost along the way. Oh, just tell yourself 'I'll be OK'. Now things are only getting worse and you need someone to take the blame. When your lover's gone there's no-one to share the pain. You're sleeping with the TV on and your lying in an empty bed, all the alcohol in the world could never help me to forget. When you're down and lost and you need a helping hand; when you're down and lost along the way. Just try a little harder, try your best to make it through the day. Just tell yourself 'I'll be OK'.

Step up to the front. Tap your toe to the beat. Let the music move your limbs. A step to the right, a step to the left, two steps back. It's not progress, but who cares. Now look around. There she is. Your partner. Let the music move you towards her. She's playing the game. Play along. Mirror her moves, mirror her moods. Find her eyes with your eyes. Sing into the music, let it carry you. Away. Away and within. Far and deep. Mmm! It's so good. You link arms without a thought about who you should be. You let go. And the music plucks at your heart. Alegría, like a bolt of life.

Is anybody out there? Does anybody see that when the lights are off something's killing me? I know it seems like people care cause they're always around me. But when the day is done and everybody runs, who will be the one to save me from myself? Who will be the one who's there and not ashamed to see me crawl? Who´s gonna catch me when I fall?

So this is how it goes. Well I, I would have never known, and if it ends today I'll still say that you shine brighter than anyone. Now I think we're taking this too far, don't you know that it's not this hard? Well, it's not this hard, but if you take what's yours and I take mine, must we go there? Please not this time. Well, this is not your fault, but if I'm without you then I will feel so small. And if you have to go, always know that you shine brighter than anyone does. If you ran away now, will you come back around? And if you ran away, I'd still wave goodbye, watching you shine bright.

There's a universal bottom line, everybody in disguise. Even you and I. Behind the facade tryin to get by. You wanna play with fire; you're gonna get burned. It's the be all end all. And right before we fade away call a spade a spade. And you should know you can tell it's a bittersweet world. Why can't we all just get along in this bittersweet world, with closets full of skeletons. I'm a bittersweet girl. Demons out to get me as i stand alone.

"¡Es verdad! ¡Soy muy nervioso, espantosamente nervioso! Siempre lo fui, pero ¿por qué pretendéis que esté loco? La enfermedad ha aguzado mis sentidos mas sin destruirlos ni embotarlos. Tenía el oído muy fino; ninguno le igualaba; he escuchado todas las cosas del cielo y la Tierra, y no pocas del infierno. ¿Cómo he de estar loco? ¡Atención! (...) ¡Éste es el quid! Me creéis loco, pero advertir que los locos no razonan. ¡Si hubiérais visto con que buen juicio procedí, con que tacto y previsión, y con que disimulo puse manos a la obra! Nunca he sido tan amable con el viejo como durante la semana que precedió al asesinato"
(El Corazón Delator, Edgar A. Poe)

Florencia cortó un trozo de tela de su brillante pollera de satén. Con ella se vendó los ojos, con su propósito bien oculto tras ellos. Su corazón saltaba de alegría. Quizo probar primero, para asegurarse, y estiró su mano derecha hacia adelante. Con sus finos dedos palpó la suavidad etérea de su inocencia. Sus labios esbozaron una sonrisa: funcionaba. Alzó su brazo izquierdo y ésta vez, su piel rozó la soledad que inundaba la habitación. De sus ojos brotaron, como palomas liberadas luego de un largo período de encierro, dos lágrimas, que se vieron atrapadas en el satén que cegaba a la chica. Florencia sintió curiosidad y avanzó un paso. La punta de sus dedos sintió el suave tacto de otra piel, una gélida y lisa. ¿Cómo podía ser? Y, ¿qué era esa pequeña corriente eléctrica que atacaba sus miembros hasta llegar a su corazón? Florencia siguió el contorno de esa suave piel, descubriendo una mano que también parecía explorar la suya. La curiosidad venció a Florencia, que, agobiada por preguntas, casi arrancó la venda de sus ojos para descubrir con ellos unos ojos color musgo que le devolvían la mirada.
(Para Lucía, y muchas gracias).

Sit tight, I´m gonna need you to keep time
Come on just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me
Good, good now we´re making some progress
Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well
Don´t you see, I´m the narrator, and this is just the prologue?
Swear to shake it up if you swear to listen
Oh, we´re still so young, desperate for attention
I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives.

Gaze into her killing jar, I'd sometimes stare for hours. She even poked the holes so I can breathe. She bought the last line, I'm just the worst kind of guy to argue with what you might find. And for the last night I lie, could I lie with you?