Bon dia Ramona:
T´escric des de l´anècdota més furiosa, des d´una frase de les dones de Bukowski: "Besar-se és més íntim que follar. Per aquest motiu mai em va agradar que les meves nòvies petonejessin els homes. Preferia que se´ls follessin".
Quan la vaig llegir en veu alta es van escandalitzar. D´altres es van limitar a fer un gest que en apariència semblava condescendent , Vaig trigar temps en entendre aquest nou mètode d´auto-defensa: "Els zombies ultra-secs"
"Els educats" ( com deia Chinasky) són la nova divinitat, els més poderosos, les persones que es dibuixen a la perfecció per no ser atacades, els zeros, les amebes, el tofu, tots els vestits ignífugs per la vida.
Ja ho deies bé company: Hi ha gent que no coneix la bogeria: Quina vida més horrible han de tenir!
Recordo quan em deies: No té cap mena de sentit fer tractes amb els morts. Per aquest motiu he desistit d´argumentar el perquè del meu odi als tatuatges
Gairebé tots m´importen una puta merda.- Només els tendres es poden permetre el luxe de ser incorrectes.
Gràcies Ramona
Ramona, come closer
Shut softly your watery eyes
The pangs of your sadness
Will pass as your senses will rise
For the flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike sometimes
And there's no use in tryin'
To deal with the dyin'
Though I cannot explain that in lines
Your cracked country lips
I still wish to kiss
As to be under the strength of your skin
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I'm in
But it grieves my heart, love
To see you tryin' to be a part of
A world that just don't exist
It's all just a dream, babe
A vacuum, a scheme, babe
That sucks you into feelin' like this
I can see that your head
Has been twisted and fed
With worthless foam from the mouth
I can tell you are torn
Between stayin' and returnin'
Back to the South
You've been fooled into thinking
That the finishin' end is at hand
Yet there's no one to beat you
No one t' defeat you
'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad
I've heard you say many times
That you're better than no one
And no one is better than you
If you really believe that
You know you have
Nothing to win and nothing to lose
From fixtures and forces and friends
Your sorrow does stem
That hype you and type you
Making you feel
That you gotta be exactly like them
I'd forever talk to you
But soon my words
Would turn into a meaningless ring
For deep in my heart
I know there is no help I can bring
Everything passes
Everything changes
Just do what you think you should do
And someday maybe
Who knows, baby
I'll come and be cryin' to you
