What can you do, Annabelle?

The Decemberists – California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade
Zer egin dezakezu?
Golden Gate ikusi eta korrika hastea bezalakoa da.
Inor ez atzetik.
Zereginik ez.
Zer egin dezakezu?
Pentsatu duzu? Sobreanalisiaren konorte galtzea bezalakoa da.
Zer egin dezakezu?
Portazo bat eman, korrika irten eta liatzeko tabakoa murtxikatzen hastea. Matxinbrau-matxinbrau…idio txiki bat zen…Ah Jhon Brown zen hori, joño.

Latitude eta altitudeak antza nahastu ditugu, altuerak, balioak eta koordenadak.

The Postal Service – Natural Anthem
Berriro hasi da.
Nazioaren burrunda.
George Orwell eta Nikanor Zabaleta elkarrekin.
Nikanor, ze ari haiz iphone-ean entzuten?
Ereserkia.
1984 eta Anai Handia.

Seattle-etik akordatzen zara?
Gauez, iluna eta zubiz beteta.
Grunge mood edo antzeko zerbait.
What can you do, Kurt?

19 orduko hegaldi batean zer egin dezakezu?
3 ardo botila edan gutxienez eta herrikideez barre egin.
Lotsarik gabe. Kaferik geratzen al da?
Uztail Oparo Ostean-eko garaikoa edo Euripean Sua-koa?
Ze axola du?
Maite al dituzu, bideak? Nik maite nuena, zera zen:
bidezidorrak, jada inora eramango ez zaituzten bidezidorrak.
Kotxerik ezean.
Bidezidorrik ez.
Gidaririk gabe, jada bidezidorrik ez.
Arcade Fire – No Cars Go
Ftf.

Fernando Pessoa has been drinking, not me, not me

Yesterday I met Fernando. It was a really great and full blue sky. I met him in front of “A Brasilleira” café, nice air and atmosphere around. After met him, I started drinking Jameson whiskey one and another, all night long.
Today in the morning I have just got up really early with the same warm air like feather and a pink rose in my neck. I thought it was a nightmare. But not, I was not drinking, not me. It was Fernando Pessoa who drunk whole the barrels of Jameson whiskey and then after he got drunk, started crying just after the storm noise at night. Lisbon started droping tears as well.

I did not drink. Not me. Not me.
Not this time at least.
//
Ftf.

Fiction won Real (as usual ejem) (or how I got Joanna&Colin together)

I wanted to find Joanna.

I could find her.

I got her, at the end.


And found something that was a coincidence:


I bumped into Colin on the way.
Colin Meloy from The Decemberists playing a song of Joanna.


I got both in the same song.

Why circumstances are so good in the fiction not in the real?

End of the tail. // Eta bukatu da ipuina.
The End. // Amaiering.
ftf.