What If

Last night I was told that a girl I know had committed suicide. She had killed herself. Hanging.

It is not that I really knew her, because we had shared just like two or three days of our lives together. She was the friend of a friend of my ex. So there were two people between us and we never got in touch after the day she left my flat in London, about three years ago. And I don't even think I ever asked about her, nor she did about me, I guess.
But the think I remember of her is that she was a fine lady. Just one year older than me, working for a big international company, married and with a one year old child. She seemed just fine in her life. Just great. The friend does not know what happened. No one seems to know. What do we know? We know nothing about the people we share moments with. I don't think I am the kind of guy who would do such a thing (you never know, do you?) but I could just be killed tomorrow in a car accident and what then? This words would be hanging here for a period of time, till Google decided to remove them. I would be erased under no choice. Under no question. And you... you'd have your TTTD feed on your Google Reader and it wouldn't shine, it wouldn't tell you I am alive. So you wouldn't notice. You would just be some people who happen to know a bit about a person you know nothing about and you couldn't care less. Well, some of you've got my contact details. You'd probably get worried sometime, send an email, make a phonecall or two, write home and even take a train here. I am super optimistic. Who would do that? Huh? Oh, well, I know Who and I'd do the same. But I guess I need just a couple of fingers to count them.

The reason I decided to talk about that is not cos I want to let you know what I want for my funeral (all profit organs out and the rest burnt and dumped anywhere, at the Thames or sommin'), it is because of a convo I had long ago with one of that Who's above.

Death. I am not really scared of Death. I'm scared of what comes straight before and straight after. What comes before is the act of dying. The how and the when and the why. You can guess why I am scared of that (since I am scared of so many things). But what comes afterwards? Who knows. But I don't care about if God happens to exist (cos if S/He/It does, is so super good that would forgive me for my "sins", sins that, on the other hand, have been described as such by humans, not really by God him/her/it-self, so p'aps S/He/It will not even think they are sins --- or whatever) or if I reincarnate, or just "end". What I am scared about is the fact that I will regret something. I don't mean my deeds and dones. I mean my didn't-do's, actually. I mean the fact that I haven't written a line in over a month. The fact that I was suposed to end that story by the end of this month of August, that it had to be finished off by the 15th so I had time to correct it. The fact that I haven't finished the other two important stories of my life. The fact that I hadn't done things that I should have done before, I haven't said things that you wanted me to say but I told you I couldn't tell them, I haven't listened to the music I need to listen, I haven't read all the books I intended to, I haven't watched and shared with you the films and plays that my heart is demanding for, I haven't learned all the words and facts and things I intend to. And so many of those things.
I even didn't get a proper kiss from you.
I haven't got a "forgive me" just yet.
I couldn't let you know how much I love you.
I wouldn't hold your hand and press it to my chest, so you'd know I fell for you.
I... just... I just have so much to do.
But what is worse, what I would really regret, is being such a lazy cow. I am crying now while I could be writing that story, or studying, or jumping on a train to hold you hand, or taking a plane to tell you how much I miss you, or just fucking playing that tune out loud and sing myself dumb.
Or just stepping out and feel the fresh air.

I'll start with that.

Listening to "1234" by Feist.

Rosquillas amarillas

Naaa, na, na, na
naaa, na, na, na
na-na, na-ná
nana nana nana
na-na, na-ná.

Soy fan de The Simpsons, de siempre. Y esta tarde he ido a ver la peli con mi hermana, una amiga, y tres niños. Me lo he pasado genial, me he reído un montón. Muchas referencias, muchas.
Al salir, he mirado un segundo, y he visto algo que me ha llamado la atención. Me he dado cuenta de ello más tarde, así que no he podido comprobar. No he visto quién, pero presumo que era Dan Castellaneta y ponía las voces que interpreta. Pero en vez de Itchy ponía Rasca. Lo que me ha extrañado, porque los créditos estaban en inglés, creo. No sé.

Adoro Los Simpson.

PS Estoy contento por Lisa.

I've lost

I've lost a comma.

Have you seen it?

If you have, please, do contact me.

Simpsonized

I've been simpsonized.

How to? The Simpsons Movie Site
Via La Lengua.

I dare you

Si antes cada canción de Björk me trasportaba a mundos increíbles y daba en el clavo en montones de situaciones, desde el concierto aún más.
Ya sabéis que me encanta "5 Years", pero es que desde hace poco estas palabras cada vez son más apropiadas. Por más de una razón, no sólo una. Esto es parte de la conversación.

5 Years
Björk - Homogenic



You think you're denying me of something
well, I've got plenty
you're the one who's missing out
but you won't notice

'Til after five years
if you'll live that long
you'll wake up
all love-less

I dare you - to take me on
I dare you - to show me your palms
I'm so bored of cowards
who say what they want
then they can't handle

You can't handle love
baby, it's obvious

I dare you - to take me on
I dare you - to show me your palms
what's so scary?
not a threat in sight
you just can't handle
you can't handle love

Missed Connection

I am such a fool.
All around me is mist, mist in each of its colours.
I should have said something, I know, but I couldn't. I was so scared.
Green is starting to get the best of colours.
All the same, isn't it, my friend?
An A can be very important. Ask Joan Brossa.

Madrid + Björk

No puedo creer que vaya a ser yo el primero en postear sobre esto. Pero alguien tiene que empezar, ¿no?

Como sabéis el miércoles fue el concierto de Björk en Las Ventas de Madriz. La experiencia fue apoeteósica, brutal, fantástica, maravillosa. Pero del concierto en sí no voy a hablar, dejaré que sea Gatchan el que haga el análisis musical. Sin embargo, decir que ver a Björk parecía super natural. Que era como si la hubiese visto un montón de veces, y no, era la primera vez que la veía. El espectáculo me gustó, y me lo pasé genial. Y eso que casi me lo pierdo. Justo cuando el AVE empezó a moverse, me puse Volta en el iPod y entonces casi me da un ataque al corazón. Justo entonces me di cuenta que mi entrada seguía enganchada en la nevera de mi casa. Sin embargo, gracias a Gatchan, Hugo y Tronquitolefreak, tuve una entrada. Muchas gracias, chicos, nunca lo olvidaré. Os debo una.
No conseguí sacarle una foto buena, y los vídeos tienen un audio fatal. Así que no los voy a colgar.
Hay cosas que me sorprendieron del concierto. Me sorprendió la heterogeneidad de los asistentes. Muchas edades, todas la orientaciones sexuales, todas las tribus. Todo, en general. Me sorprendió muchísimo. Además, conocí a Isaac y Sara, con quiénes nos lo pasamos genial. Gracias Isaac por aguantarme.
Después del concierto fuimos a un sitio llamado La Parada de los Monstruos. Estuvo bien, pero hubiera molado más Björk. Fue genial oírla en un pub.
El viernes seguí flotando. Por la mañana paseos por el Retiro. Helado con un amigo de casi toda la vida. Comida con Gatchan y paseos históricos por Madrid. Además de pasar por una librería que me encantó y en la que encontré "The Lost Language of Cranes" de David Leavitt. Un libro que llevo tiempo queriendo leer, un libro que no he encontrado en ningún sitio. Un libro que conseguí comprar por correo y que llegó la semana pasada. Un libro que compré, igualmente, porque estaba autografiado por el autor. Un libro que estoy seguro que me va a encantar.
Tras algo más de paseo, quedamos con Hugo y Cvalda (se escribe así? :P ) para cenar. Más tarde llegó Placiplóstilus. Las conversaciones se seguían las unas a las otras. Y tengo que decir que todo fue super cómodo, al menos para mí. Pero lo que más me gustó fue que teníamos cosas en común, pensamientos y experiencias. Además, tengo que decir, que la cultura que tienen, tanto en sus ámbitos de trabajo, como en otros (literatura, cine, música, etc.) es increíble. Yo andaba toda la noche, ni idea, no sé de quién hablas, sí, me suena, pero no estoy seguro. Si ya me siento atolondrado por todo lo que quiero leer/ver/escuchar, ahora hay tanto más, y el sentimiento es tan intenso, que es agotador.
La noche es virgen, y nos fuimos Hugo y yo de marcheta por el barrio menos virgen de la ciudad. La verdad es que tenía muchas ganas de salir de fiesta, porque nunca había salido por Madrid. Con lo poco que vengo, normal. Más conciertos, por favor. Fuimos a El Sitio, donde a la salida conocimos a CityBoyer y a CityGayer, además de ElChicoSonrisa. CityBoyer nos hizo partirnos de la risa. Debería enviar un MissedConnection. Qué risa. Nos llevó a Transmission pero nos los City se fueron y al rato nos fuimos nosotros a otro sitio que no recuerdo el nombre, algo con B, donde, a parte de pegarme un leñazo (ninguna mariquita me ayudó a levantar) bailé lo que no había bailado hacía tiempo. Gracias Hugo por sacarme.
Era de día cuando llegamos.

Me tengo que ir a trabajar en breve pero quedan muchas cosas por decir.

• Fue genial conoceros a todos, chicos.
• Próximo concierto de Björk en London.
• Además, concierto de Spice Girls ¡seguro! Qué divertido.
• Demostrado, los gays de grupos marginales salen los jueves.
• Había una convención de sordomudos. Increíble, encontrarse con una nube de ellos.
• La bruma a veces es buena. Sigue, y aumenta.
• Revival de canciones de los 90. Increíble. Pero de verdad que la canción que más me impactó fue "Un-break my heart, say you love me again" de Toni Bráxton. Y me gustó mucho oírlo.
• Las margaritas me encantan, gracias.
• Quedan muchas conversaciones pendientes, pero a veces puedo ser algo pesado.
• Madrid me gusta. Y ahora incluso me gusta para vivir. Me asusta.
• Björk es baja, y me divertí mucho con tus chistes.
• Las zapas (yo diría bambas) Victoria no me van. Pero puedo decir que yo era el único (o uno de los pocos) que llevaba espardenyes en todo Madrid. ¿os envío una remesa?
• Ese color es muy profundo.
• En Madrid hay demasiada gente pidiendo en el metro. Hoy tocó flauta de Pan. LOL Pero sigo sin estar de acuerdo.
• Me mola el AVE, fue tan cómodo que no me dio la sensación de estar tan lejos.
• Necesito agua.
• Soy un perro.
• Me gusta el tono de tu voz, me recuerdas tanto a mi amiga, que me haces sentir cómodo.
• Lo que tengo en mi espalda, los lasts, y otras cosas, empiezan a caer. Gracias.
• Muchas gracias a todos. Me habéis hecho sentir muy a gusto, y no sólo con vosotros, sino también conmigo mismo.

Can I give you my telephone number?

'How did you get so cute?'
'I was born this way. What is your excuse?'
Brothers & Sisters – Season 1, Episode 5: Date Night

This series has started recently in Spain. I am not following but had it tonight while doing random stuff on the computer. Suddenly I heard that and I couldn't believe it was coming just that exact moment. It was like an enlightment. It was like seeing God. It was like an slap on the face.
I don't usually talk about myself but I think I am kinda ready to open myself a bit.

I don't know how to flirt. Well, at least I don't remember. I used to. When I was young(er) I used to have an intense love life. Then I got "married" and now I am back in the market. And now what? I grew my belly and I lost my hair. And I am only twenty five.
So now, now what? Even if I might not look like, I am very shy. Even if I don't look so, I am very soft in the inside.
I don't even know what the heck I want to say. I just felt so touched by that sentence. Why can't I say those things? And why, if I say those things, I never get the same response. Or the ideal response.

I've learned a few things latelly. And one of them is that I get shit when I don't say the things and shit when I say them. But when I say them I feel much more relieve.
It is a long way to go till I am confortable enough to flirt "openly". But life is long.

Well, tomorrow off to Madrid to Björk's concert.
Enjoy the week.

¿?

Don't wake me

Last night I went with some friends to a "chiringuito" in Altafulla, the next village to mine. A chiringuito is one of those beach bars. But this one is open at night and we go sometimes to have the last one.
Near to the end of the night they played The Postal Sevice's world wide known hit song "Such Great Hights", which I like, but have heard so many times everywhere. But, hey, when it finished, "Sleeping In" came along, so it was the album and not the TV Serie's OST.
I couldn't find an official video, but this is pretty cool.

Sleeping In
The Postal Service



Last week I had the strangest dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed
Where there never any mystery on who shot John F Kennedy
It was just a man with something to prove
Slightly bored and severely confused
He steadied his rifle with his target in the center
And became famous on that day in November

Don't wake me I plan on sleeping

And then last night I had that strange dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed
Where concerns about the world getting warmer
The people thought they were just being rewarded
For treating others as they like to be treated
For obeying stop signs and curing diseases
For mailing letters with the address of the sender
Now we can swim any day in November

Don't wake me I plan on sleeping
(now we can swim any day in November)

PS Sorry I am so absent, lately. I will be updating this weekend. Wednesday arriving in Madrid for Björk's concert with a bunch of nice people. Can't wait.

Siempre watching

Sube el volumen, levántate y baila.

Felix da House Cat – Watching Cars Go By

Oído en:

Y del mismo autor de Money, Success, Fame, Glamour.

I'm so excited

Vídeo de "Gargandi snilld".
Razón: sólo faltan 15 días.