martes, 21 de junio de 2011

Un momento sin explicación

Este martes lleno de trabajo y dolor estomacal, un día nublado en la ciudad de México y un extraño antojo de algo que no puedo describir.

Por el momento sólo queda hacer la siguiente comparación sin sentido alguno:

Shelter - The XX

I find shelter, in this way
Under cover, hide away
Can you hear, when I say?
I have never felt this way

Maybe I had said, something that was wrong
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on
Maybe I had said, something that was wrong
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on

Could I be, was I there?
It felt so crystal in the air
I still want to drown, whenever you leave
Please teach me gently, how to breathe

And I'll cross oceans, like never before
So you can feel the way I feel it too
And I'll mirror images back at you
So you can see the way I feel it too

Maybe I had said, something that was wrong
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on
Maybe I had said, something that was wrong
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on

Maybe I had said, something that was wrong
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on

Islands - The XX

I don't have to leave anymore
What I have is right here
Spend my nights and days before
Searching the world for what's right here

Underneath and unexplored
Islands and cities I have looked
Here I saw
Something I couldn't over look

I am yours now
So now I don't ever have to leave
I've been found out
So now I'll never explore

See what I've done
That bridge is on fire
Going back to where I've been
I'm froze by desire
No need to leave

Where would I be
IF this were to go under
It's a risk I'd take
I'm froze by desire
As if a choice I'd make

I am yours now
So now I don't ever have to leave
I've been found out
So now I'll never explore

---

Como es posible que alguien en South West London, pueda impresionar tanto a un grupo de personas que viven en otro país, hablan otro idioma y además parecer que están hablando de lo mismo.

Lo mejor de la música y la poesía es que parecen guardar un contrato secreto con las cosas esenciales que viven en los seres humanos, generan una empatía armónica al ritmo de la música que hace la diferencia entre un artista y un mercenario de la industria cultural.

Feliz martes de mezcales!

Foto tomada de una pared en la esquina entre Viaducto y Xola. (4:00 am)

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