link:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLD1nxRVUwc
Cry Me a River, Lisa Ekdahl
One Does Not Choose
One does not choose the country where one is born; but loves the country where one was born.
One does not choose the time to come into the world; but must leave a mark of their time.
No one can evade responsibility.
No one can cover their eyes, ears, muffle and cut off their hands.
We all have a duty of love to fulfill, a story to be born, a goal to reach.
We did not choose the moment to come into the world: now we can make the world in which the seed we brought with us will be born and grow.
Gioconda Belli
Since the afternoon, Saturday was a party. The aroma of the fixative was hope in the hands of the bard, and his manners erased the visages of tragedy from Monday to Friday. Every Saturday, the boutiques in the neighborhood, Avon promoters, the mercery, and stockings would revive. We would exchange shirts, some pants, like cards for building the game. 'Mama, I want a boyfriend', the little eyes of the permanent residents would cry out. From all of them, actually. And almost none thought about sex without love.
If they tell you I fell, it's because I fell. Vertically. And with horizontal results. I am, only the sides from a right angle. I ignore the monumental art of tilt, that ornamental torsion of the hero who makes his fall look like a jump. That curl of the martyr who, rising, gets out of the victim and their own torment flies over it is not my specialty. When I fall, I fall. There is no parabola or air or sustaining force. A slide: I wait. I arrive at the floor by the shortest route. A landslide, a stone, a beam that has been dynamited. There are no tricks of the body in my descent. You survive: the bottom of the abyss is softer for those who don't fly, only fall. If they tell you I fell, don't come to teach me aerodynamic revisionism. Don't tell me about those who fell victorious. Don't come to say you don't believe it was an accident. The only thing I believe in is the accident. The universe knows how to collapse without any reason, it crumbles because of that. Falling, Beatriz Vignoli, from her book Friday
Cry Me a River, Lisa Ekdahl
One Does Not Choose
One does not choose the country where one is born; but loves the country where one was born.
One does not choose the time to come into the world; but must leave a mark of their time.
No one can evade responsibility.
No one can cover their eyes, ears, muffle and cut off their hands.
We all have a duty of love to fulfill, a story to be born, a goal to reach.
We did not choose the moment to come into the world: now we can make the world in which the seed we brought with us will be born and grow.
Gioconda Belli
Since the afternoon, Saturday was a party. The aroma of the fixative was hope in the hands of the bard, and his manners erased the visages of tragedy from Monday to Friday. Every Saturday, the boutiques in the neighborhood, Avon promoters, the mercery, and stockings would revive. We would exchange shirts, some pants, like cards for building the game. 'Mama, I want a boyfriend', the little eyes of the permanent residents would cry out. From all of them, actually. And almost none thought about sex without love.
If they tell you I fell, it's because I fell. Vertically. And with horizontal results. I am, only the sides from a right angle. I ignore the monumental art of tilt, that ornamental torsion of the hero who makes his fall look like a jump. That curl of the martyr who, rising, gets out of the victim and their own torment flies over it is not my specialty. When I fall, I fall. There is no parabola or air or sustaining force. A slide: I wait. I arrive at the floor by the shortest route. A landslide, a stone, a beam that has been dynamited. There are no tricks of the body in my descent. You survive: the bottom of the abyss is softer for those who don't fly, only fall. If they tell you I fell, don't come to teach me aerodynamic revisionism. Don't tell me about those who fell victorious. Don't come to say you don't believe it was an accident. The only thing I believe in is the accident. The universe knows how to collapse without any reason, it crumbles because of that. Falling, Beatriz Vignoli, from her book Friday
13 comentários - Nightophilia 13!
es derrumbarse sin ningún motivo,
es desmoronarse porque sí."
Me llevo ésto, así, en combo.
Gracias 🌹
Hermosas imágenes y muy buenos los textos !
Gracias por compartir.
Angie te deja Besos y Lamiditas !!!
La mejor forma de agradecer la buena onda que se recibe es comentando, al menos al que te comenta. Yo comenté tu post, vos comentaste el mío?
Compartamos, comentemos, apoyemos, hagamos cada vez mejor esta maravillosa Comunidad !!!
una historia que nacer
una meta que alcanzar
Me quedo con la Belli...hermoso post socio
Muchas gracias por tan genial selección y felicitaciones por tan buen gusto.