La petite mort

"The Climax", illustration for Oscar Wilde's Salome by Aubrey Beardsley (1893)  

Tomb of Ligeia

Illustration for Edgar Allan Poe's short story Ligeia by Harry Clarke (1919)

... und one was 'assaulted'... Peanut

"Love is sharing your popcorn", from Love is Walking Hand In Hand (Peanuts)

"It's the pictures that got small"

Everybody Comes to Rick's

"The last time we met..."

"Not an easy day to forget. I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue."

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942)

Einfach Träne

As the amount of cloth fluctuates gradually, I realize years and seasons go by unnoticed.
Distracted by our daily routine, nothing changes significantly.
I'm trapped in an endless spiral and it's making me sick.
Wonder how long I'll keep on holding on.
Better start composing the dirge.
Must be soon now...
Metaphores.

Battling the Pink Robots

I've come to assume that absolute happiness does not exist.

Of course, one can self-convince himself and believe for some seconds (or even minutes) that everything is fine in his life, but the next moment, it will prove it wrong.

Just wanted to tell you all.

Real life

"No puedo más, no lo conseguiré nunca".

Mientras esta frase resonaba sin parar en la cabeza de nuestra Muireann, a su vez pensó lo irónico que era el sentir consuelo en la música. Sonrió (y nadie lo vio) recordando que poco ha cambiado la situación desde aquellos tiernos 16 años. "Sigo pensando lo mismo que cuando era una adolescente". ¿No se supone que la gente cambia, madura...? "Se ve que esas cosas no están hechas para mí". Entonces, ¿por qué todo el mundo se empeña en seguir los mismos patrones, a saber: estudiar, consumir y trabajar hasta quedarse obsoleto, retirarse del ojo público convertido en un despojo inútil y venido a menos?

El camino no era como lo imaginó, ni cómo se lo pintaron en las películas de su infancia. Las aventuras, la emoción, los amigos que se mantienen fieles a tu lado toda la vida... No podía evitar darse cuenta de que en raras ocasiones consiguió llegar al fondo de un amigo, ese tipo de cosas sólo ocurren en las pelis de Bergman, o en Los Goonies.

Dudas, dudas, agobios...

Lo de siempre, vamos.

Doors

Turn your eyes from the window so you won't see this world
The walls are closing inward, there's nowhere left to turn
You want it, you need it, the words slip away
You're crying your eyes out, your mind wants to break
Your heart is your weakness, your song plays endlessly

Wonder how you sleep...

All your houses crumble, shadows begin to howl
Spiders on the rooftops, the trapdoor's in ourselves
You want it, you need it, the words slip away
You're crying your eyes out, your mind wants to break
Your heart is your weakness, your song plays endlessly

Wonder how you sleep, it's a wonder to me...

So how's it going to feel when you don't know what's real?
You tell yourself it's love, then tear your insides up
So how's it going to feel when you don't know what's real?
You tell yourself it's love, then tear yourself apart

Senses all been fractured, the traitor's in your sights
The hours spinning backwards, there's nowhere left to hide
You want it, you need it, the words slip away
You're crying your eyes out, your mind wants to break
Your heart is your weakness, your song plays endlessly

Wonder how you sleep, it's a wonder to me...

So how's it going to feel when you don't know what's real?
You tell yourself it's love, then tear your insides up
So how's it going to feel when you don't know what's real?
You tell yourself it's love, then tear yourself apart

How many people must learn? How many roads must you turn?
There's something hiding below
How many tears must you cry? How many buried inside?
Until you finally let go

How many years must you fight? How many stories survive?
Until the tables will turn
How many days must you brave? How many years must you pay?
There's nothing left to let go...

Molten veins

You are the melting men and as you melt

You are beheaded, handcuffed in lace, blood and sperm

Swimming in poison, gasping in the fragrance

Sweat carves a screenplay of discipline and devotion

So melt my lover, melt

She said, "Melt my lover, melt"