I'm seeing a man takes pictures his son, who makes faces and postures in the boring waiting room of the airport. The child must be six years old and has the biggest shoes I've ever seen put to one of his age, is as if he had carved in wood and knees have been exhausted, leaving the legs three times thicker from there to the feet. Even with headphones on, I can hear his laughter desacomplejada above the music as I write. I used to be like, I remember, I do not mind at all that anyone's attention fall on me, until at some point that changed and I began to hide, to apologize and ask forgiveness for being there outside wherever.
When I was little to give to the world today-a wonderful way to get to severe cold has made in Copenhagen, and latent interior monologue has become an external dialogue, and that's always relief that follows a treacherous stream of vulnerability and tenderness. I said goodbye hand and without meaning to, and when I just stayed around me and myself again. I wondered how I could define myself as a loner allegedly convinced and need both the embrace of a person. What accusation that easy. I guess for survival you turn to things as you seem to lose weight and only you know how you are and how many secrets lying tangled in ugliness omit in your story: a story, polished base of repetition is so right and studied as a response to a frequent question in an interview, and shipped and without even thinking.
sad Thinking of trying to deny a fierce fear to live and sell instead a gimmick complacency and conformity, of detachment, I embarked towards Zurich and little has come off this song timely Julie Doiron:
"I decided long ago
not laugh again
never to mourn
not want to return to "
protected from pain believe the failure to return to risk in any field is something that as a valid idea can not last. Refusing the feelings I feel a torture in itself, far from comfort. You will discover weeping and loving although follow shaking his head from left to right with your eyes closed. Doiron's voice in the right channel stereo, and accompanied only by guitar drags brittle than wet grass on the left channel, it breaks your heart when after the list of things I do not plan to fall back says "I decided not to return to wanting / so I'm sad / I'm sad" . The charming choruses that come to wrap the word "blue" do not hide the distress caused by the suspicion that the remedy chosen the dead leaves.
Although the guitar volume up a bit and just listening to both channels to give a slightly epic final, which says is in dots. I felt like a fool, displayed, that happens when a song seems to talk about you.
Living with affection and indifference seems to me a resolution to the concerns raised by this song. But if Julie Doiron sing it at night on a hill under the stars as I suppose, the ideal would be a runaway star that trickle hot butter for each of its ends, mocking unattainable. I thought being touched, but no. No.
To Bruce.
Written in Zurich airport
for a long wait between flights
on February 26, 2011;
finish at 19:16 h.
'Blue' disk appeared Can I Wonder What You Did With Your Day of Julie Doiron, released in 2009
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