32

Y sí, varias cosas pasaron cuando mi padre tenía 32 años. Por eso es una especie de sino este año...
A propósito, vean The Game, de David Fincher.

Noche x

En la noche no hay muchos ruidos. Los sentidos se afilan.
La noche cobija pero también acentúa las soledades.
Tomar té en la noche, hacer café y no dormir por el estómago revuelto.
Muchas cosas se pueden sentir en esa vigilia alerta ante el silencio que nos agrede al despojarnos de la ilusión de la vida...

I heard of a saint who had loved you.
So I studied all night in his school.
He taught that the duty of lovers
is to tarnish the golden rule.
And just when I was sure that his teachings were pure,
he drowned himself in the pool,
his body is gone, but back here on the lawn
his spirit continues to drool.

No hay amor que nazca en la noche.
El amor nace en la vida, no en la pobreza.

Ira

Tanta ira quiebra los corazones.

Le cierra la puerta al amor y causa tristeza.

Withering tree

(Steve Winwood)

Withering tree bearing no fruit

Never will see an evergreen suit

Reaching right out, out for the sun

Broken old branches fall one by one

Into the arms of eternity

Into the arms of eternity

You're too young to live in a world full of lies (oh!)

So you turn to the touchables who touch liquid skies (oh!)

And cry through the eye of a needle.

Fighting the fish up from the deep

Oh! how I wish the lake would not sleep

Following dreams into the blue

There you will see hidden fron view

Trees in the arms of eternity

Into the arms of eternity

(repeat)