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May 25 How can I knowEsta es una hermosa cancíon de Parentesis. Aún estoy esperando que Eduardo me preste el CD de Holden para tener lo que me falta.
Acá tenemos a Lucho Gnecco (alias mi doble) haciedo las de Crooner con esta hermosa balada para ti... muñeca!
How can I know
Wherever you walk the way you choose
you can find that person that your dreamed
nobody knows when and how
but I realized that could be true
wherever you walk the way your choose
you can find that person that you dreamed
nobody knows when and how
but I realized that could be true
how can I know if is true?... and
how can I know if you are?... who
I've always loved and waited
Wherever you walk the way you choose
you can find that person that your wanted
nobody knows where and when
but I realized that could be true
how can I know if is true?... and
how can I know if you are?... who
I've always loved and waited
Wherever you walk the way you choose
you can find that person that your dreamed
nobody knows when and how
but I realized that could be true
but I realized that could be true
but I realized that could be true
but I realized that could be true
that could be true... honey! May 17 MorphineAfter eight rums with “Red Bull” I was burning ciggies after ciggies. The shitty 80’s music was over the dance floor. Nothing interesting, nothing to make turn my eyes from the white smoke drawing strange figures betwen the red and blue lights.
A black figure was in the other corner, dancing with her girlfriend with boring face. She seems to be in that place like a favor, a duty with somedoy. I could notice with all the chains belts, the black and tight clothe, the red and savage hair and some tatoo in her neck she didn’t belong there. Then my eyes went straight to her. A wild animal in a funeral.
I walked very slowly sniffling her freedom aroma, her sex, her space, her fear. Always is the same, heavy metal style, hard style, punk style are defense mechanisms. The hunt is more atractive if the prey is dangerous, or seems to be one.
“The night is still so young and I have a little bag full of fun” I said. She did the most enigmatic smile she had and after some minutes we were dancing a song I didn’t remember, who cares? The only important thing was my body and her body doing the ancient snakes mating ritual.
The rest is the old same story, a bed, her groans, my lust, our wet bodies, death after death, birth after birth. Her sweat was full of alcohol and tobacco. My mouth, my tonghe was full of her sex, her tasty sex. Her nails injuried my back, and I bitten her breast. To enjoy is so similar to the pain.
Then the calm, then the clear eyes, the madness of the sobriety. The resting time , the awfull truth, the awkward moment to say nothing, to stay while the sun is the perfect excuse for run. But...
“The night is still so young” said while I putted the pillow over her face. After all, I had still a little bag to have a lot of fun.
May 08 Flannel timesIt was during the 1992 new years night. I was in my home after a lot of people, and a lot of champagne. I was watching the TV, but suddenly everything changed.
A couple of guys, using the same kind of clothe I used to wear, started to play a song. Sad, acid like the lemmon, angry, funny... rock & roll. It was the beggining of that crazy summer. I wasn't alone. It was smelling like teen spirit.
In some few weeks, a lot of sounds came to my bedrrom from one place called Seattle, a place with lot of rain, woods, coffe, and guys who were using the clothe I used to buy because were cheap, old, dirty. A new word came to my mind... grunge.
In that time I was feeling very lost, a lot of things I believed were just a hollywood movie, lies, more lies, sad lies.. The hippies and punks were death, till their songs started to send me the sounds of new strings, or maybe the same old strings, with shitty guitars, shitty and over saturated sounds, screams, lot of screams, screams about loneliness, about to reject a culture build in the dicotomy betwen loosers and winners, about the lost dreams about the american dream, and about the new human being. Screams of people who all nights were looking in one neddle answers that never came, or maybe the reason for been outside for a while.
Some of them are dead now. Some others are older, like me. Some of them are now succesfull people, and seems they are not angry anymore. World changed a lot, or just a little? We change for be the same? We turned in 360°?
Today I was listening them again. Lot of memories, lot of faces, lot of alcohol and some things to smoke came again to me. My guitar is waiting for me in one corner in my room, the same chords again, the same attitude. But let me tell you now, my flannel shirt doesn't fit me well anymore.
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