cuckoo

Right now, I'm stuck at this party. Therefore, I'm oficially a sketch of a comic book.

An Equal Music by Vikram Seth is the novel I've been reading and ,guiltily ,leaving it and comingback. Days, or even a week, pass as intervals of my reading interrupted by school devoirs. I have felt a kind of regret while reading it. And for that matter I always feel it when it comes to lovestories. The intertwined legs at dawn, the Viennesse cafés, the sneaky visits to the lover are images as old as cheese as my deared friend who recommended the book to me would said. But in the end is like a treason to read about these kind of music-imbued love; however, although its a beautiful novel still I must explain why I feel like I'm treasoning when reading at these stuff. Because a reading that should remind me of things, makes me feel regret of things I haven't felt in a long time or some others I have a feeling I won't experimet at all. I feel like reading science-fiction when I read about Michael and Julia just understanding each other with just a glance, I feel utter bitterness. And I feel like a science-fiction reader in my dungeons'n'dragons castle as well but this castle instead of dragons has records and a guitar that hasn't been played in a long time.

"I feel numb hatred for this decent man" is what Michael says about Julia's husband. Whenever I think of Morrissey's lyrics I felt kinda the same. I hate to see people kissing flamboyantly in public as if they wanted the world to be jealous of them. Fuck no! I mean, I do have seen them and I do feel jealous because this geezer or that punk shouldn't be with a "her" but what for being angry? I'm tired of reading my days and looking at each page as another textbook of a man who hasn't found what telly has promised to him. I have bought things I've seen in telly though, and for the record, I enjoy them (I still don't know whether to feel guilt or not when buying stuff I don't need but that makes me release some good ol' endorphines the same way as chocolate does with most of the kids). My best evening of this week has been my date with the 69 Love Songs of Merrit and Woo (not vynil though). But there we are again, bloody little word who thinks she deserves a three-albumed record just for her. "Not for all the tea in China" they say, and they are the lecturers of the broken hearted people when lyrics-writing is the topic.

Clearly I'm tired of getting angry of some things that ain't have no solution. "It is your wings that make you beautiful / i could make you fly away / but I can never make you stay." Right now I would like a magnetic field around me, a real one, with real repulsion against those "decent" guys who are dating the girls out in the world. "Not for all North Carolina" I'd rather be writing about other thing but as they say:

don't fall in love with me yet
we only recently met
true i'm in love with you but
you might decide i'm a nut
give me a week or two to
go absolutely cuckoo

I need not to fall as an absolutely cuckoo anymore. Lately It's a time when we are surrounded by a downward acoustic-guitared like spiral.

LA VIDA ES UNA DERROTA

tiene razón