Feeling good

It was the novocaine that was being rhythmically pumped in my veins. I could feel it, savor it. My body was aching with an indescribable, forbidden, pleasure. Rocking forwards and backwards, chin looking to the ceiling. Broken mirrors.


Your eye. Staring, seeing but not watching. I didn't care about that fucking impersonal and provocative look anymore.


It was just one blue eye in the night. 


Closed room, number 415. No lights, your damn eye.
Blood and walls, nothing else at my sight. I was glancing steadily to the only non-broken mirror in the darkness. I was feeling peculiarly free knowing you weren't. You belong to me. Maybe, your eye does know so.

And it was there, just lying there, in one of those pieces of glass. One blue eye. 
I took it, analysed it. Felt the edge cutting my palm, your eye's revenge. But I was still focused. 
You looked at me with horror, I was able to taste it. Delicious.


I smiled,
still holding you between my wounded fingers. I couldn't help touching you with my lips, as if I were kissing your eye. Blood mattered to me no more. 
Just held you stronger.


And dropped you through the window.
Heard you screaming and crying with pain.


Your eye was finally dead, and dark my room and you.

You know

Tendría que ponerme a hacer revisionismo histórico de este genial 2011. Pero, sinceramente... paja ._.

The ringing of the division bell had begun

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder


Y... efectivamente soy ex-alumna del Poli.
Los mejores y más emocionantes (en todo sentido) años de mi vida. Gracias por tanto.

Let the flames begin

Six in the morning, alarm clock will be ringing as if there is no tomorrow. My eyelids glued to each other, unwilling to open and let me see. Everything rumbling and beating in my inner brains,
and the real me at the back (my neck sweating, my legs aching). 
Secretly, I was fully taking the blame for those sweet screams of hate and pain you gave me last night; 


when you had still not realized that my head were going to go off. 

Last night, you looked at me like everyday, waiting for me to kiss you, to let you know how much I loved you. You liked to make me play the fool. That pleasing submission, the love in someone elses's lips. Yeah, you used to do so.
But, honey, instead of it, you found me in shadows, playing with fire. What a fragile thing you were staring at the flames beginning to grow in my hands!

While running through the forest that you'd taught me to cross, I though that no matter how much I've suffered for you all this years, you were completely over, and I would be with him for eternity. 
An eternity surviving in our micro-universes, our solitudes, our everlasting madness. 

I was crushing and burning, 
in a circus, 
a big mental trick, 
a satanic passion game, whereas he held the anthem and the promise of never let me go.

But anyway I couldn't avoid watching your being consumed by flames at my devilish sight; 
fire that symbolises that foolish timeless love for you and how you didn't even care. 


A shame...
Time has passed until I realised you were not true,

but 
because of that tiny sparkling disclosure I had today, 

I'll celebrate the truth maybe again (so you all be awared).

I wish I was special

• You're so very special.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.

I don't care if it hurts, I want to have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul. 

I want you to notice when I'm not around.

You're so fucking special, I wish I was special. 

He's running out the door, he's running out. 

• He runs 
• runs 
• runs
  
  

Whatever makes you happy, whatever you want.
You're so fucking special. I wish I was special.

Creep - Radiohead

Torbellino

No te das una idea lo que me está costando no mandarte un mensaje.
Me duele cada neurona que te piensa, te juro, nado en ácido.

Errante VIII

Santino llegó a la oficina aproximadamente una hora después de aquella extraña charla con su jefa. El día olía a humedad en todas partes pero el viento le causaba un agradable escozor en la nuca.
Londres era un ambiente estimulante para sus sentidos casi siempre dormidos.

Dejó sus cosas silenciosamente sobre la silla de su escritorio y tan sólo miró hacia adelante. Había algo que lo había dejado lacónico, acallado.
Se apoyó tímidamente sobre su escritorio con las manos sobre la cara y cerró los ojos. A veces pensaba que lo que estaba haciendo era estúpido, que cualquiera le hubiera recomendado buscarse la vida de a poco, no ser nunca el mejor. Pero a veces, algunas maravillosas veces, se daba cuenta lo afortunado que estaba siendo.

Un caso policial, sólo para él.

- Santino! Hey, right here!

Una voz a sus espaldas, era Pam, la secretaria de redacción apremiándolo a ir junto a ella. Era una dulce inglesa de veinticinco años y bonito rostro, la taquicardia de muchos allí.

- I'm coming, tell me what's up.
- About your case, if it's so. Here I have the information Teresa gave me as soon as she left the Latin Town. Listen... mmm, a woman, almost thirty, something like an outcast.
- An outcast? - Según lo que podía entender eso era algo así como "descastada". Se imagino una especie de hippie descalza protestando frente al Parlamento. Le pareció extraño.
- Yeah, apparently she used to travel a lot. She'd been in Bristol, Munich, Barcelona. Never stayed for more than a year - Pam miraba alternativamente algunas fotos y las notas de su cuaderno. Lucía muy despreocupada  y fresca, sus pómulos se marcaban con delicadeza por sobre su media sonrisa. Era realmente hermosa.

Santino apartó su devota observación y hechó un vistazo hacia las fotos que Pam sostenía en sus manos. Miró a la joven de las fotos. Era muy joven y relucía con un gran entusiasmo.

No entendió porqué, pero aún sin conocerla, no pudo creer que estuviera muerta.

Movie Quote IV

Harry: Tell me, exactly, how long it is that you've been working here?
Sarah: Two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, what... two hours?
Harry: And how long have you been in love with Karl, our enigmatic chief designer?
Sarah: Ahm, two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, an hour and thirty minutes.
Harry: I thought as much.
Sarah: Do you think everybody knows?
Harry: Yes.
Sarah: Do you think Karl knows?
Harry: Yes.
Sarah: Oh, that is... that is bad news.
Harry: Well I just thought maybe the time had come to do something about it.
Sarah: Like what?
Harry: Invite him out for a drink and then, after about twenty minutes, casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies.
Sarah: You know that?
Harry: Yes, and so does Karl. Think about it, for all our sakes. It's Christmas.
Sarah: Certainly. Excellent. Will do. Thanks, boss!

___________________________________________________________

(And at Christmas you tell the truth)

Because, love actually is all around

Merry Christmas!

Love actually

Navidad no me emociona - Wish you were here!

Pero me gusta estar acá escuchando Wearing the Inside Out...

Y pienso en vos, como siempre.

Comprobando la veracidad del estamento de Harry Burns

Y ahí es cuando pienso.


¿Y por qué justo al que SÍ me gusta, no le gusto?


Y llámenme histérica o whatever, pero esto no me sube el autoestima.

Movie Quote III

Harry Burns: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally Albright: Why not?
Harry Burns: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally Albright: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: You only think you do.
Sally Albright: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry Burns: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: How do you know?
Harry Burns: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally Albright: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry Burns: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally Albright: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Harry Burns: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally Albright: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry Burns: I guess not.
Sally Albright: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

. . .

 

I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. 

When Harry met Sally

Estoy optimista

No sé si algo puede cambiar,

algo debió haber cambiado.

Pero yo lo hice y me saqué varias toneladas de peso de encima.

La noche boca arriba

Necesito leer mi historia de amor. Lo pensé bastante y no, no necesito solo una. Necesito la mía. Quisiera poder abrir una página cualquiera en un libro olvidado de Julito y verte. No sé que hacer, cómo seguir. Necesito que me lo digan.

No. ¿Sabés qué necesito? Necesito que me digan que la noche hay que pasarla entre licores tristes y lumbres apagadas pero nunca hay que perder la esperanza.
Necesito que Julio me cuente que todavía se puede, que en un rincón oscuro de tu pieza pudiste esta noche haber pensado en mí y, ¿quién sabe?
En serio, esta noche necesito que SIENTAS que me querés.

. . .

Que llegue a vos como una revelación del subconsciente, que me extrañes , que no entiendas.
Necesito que pienses "mierda, fue mi culpa".
Cualquier cosa, cualquier cosa me basta para que sepas que no es lo mismo si no estoy ahí.

Ah, pero si sos una pelotuda.

Te enamoraste pendeja.

¿Ahora quién te salva?

Mejor corré.

Movie Quote II

Anna Scott: I can't believe you have that picture on your wall. 
William: You like Chagall? 
Anna Scott: I do. It feels like how being in love should be. Floating through a dark blue sky. 
William: With a goat playing the violin. 
Anna Scott: Yes - happiness isn't happiness without a violin-playing goat. 

You know,

After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. 

Un lugar llamado Notting Hill

I'm full of feelings I don't know if they are worth to be said

No sé si vale la pena. No sé si es para tanto a esta altura.

O sea, anoche aprendí a calmarme un poco, manejarme más relajada, menos loca. Y me resultó bastante fácil. Fue más aburrido, sí, porque estábamos los dos distantes.
Ningún tipo de histeria me parece que valga la pena ahora, me aburren, quiero ir al grano. Siempre fui bastante así, la verdad nunca me gustó jugar.

Me hace mal.

Se me acelera el corazón

Se enderezó y brindó a mi suerte.