Barcelona 80's:" Disappointment Dog "
" Αυτό που δεν με σκοτώνει
με κάνει πιο δυνατό "
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
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güçlendiriyor
" güçlendiriyor "Lo not kill me makes me more safe " " everything not kill me makes me more
strong "
strong "
Tuesday 15 February 2011
15 2011Salı underactive
February 15, 2011
___IMATGE DE L DIA___
"Crazy by Woll" (Illustration to pen : Henry) 
... __ Barcelona 80's : " Desengaño the dog
__
Com diu la cançó d'en Serrat , temps era temps, i, eren uns altres temps els que jo visquí a al gran ciutat que per llavors era, simplement, el meu únic territori. I eren temps de " El Víbora ", de l' anti-contra-foll-heroi- Makoki i de concerts els dissabtes al vespre a la sala Metro ... de córrer pel carrer de Robadors avall a la caça i captura d'algun camell que vengués costo a bon preu... temps, de Neville Brody per via intravenosa i, no cal dir-ho, de borratxeres majúscules tombats a the curb of the fountain in the Plaza Real awaiting the hour of opening the tiny Sidecar ... and fleeting glances of people who came from a wild Pogo concert Decib Elios the front and red cruixides limbs ... oi! Oi! Oi! 
"We are the subculture we are the force of the street we are the subculture we are the harsh reality "
... and regular visits to the comics shop continued ... behind the Town Hall (and next can PSUC ) to learn more of the new publications bande dessinée local and, especially, from which we came, fresh and fantastic, of in France that I could bring myself dreaming of those someday. Do not worry though, comics, one of my great passions, discuss, I swear! ! in depth several times ...
"Covers my almost incunabula
Raval and ... momentum, the vehemence and why not say so, almost animal attraction of Tere , that beast callers as soon battered souls lifted by alcohol lifted as of bottle, magically, mind pornography guys fifteen years and raised acne like me, not eye removed from the body.
And it was as well as a handful of bands, some local and others as or Toy Dolls Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (where we went to live them in room 666 of 
... and two years later would with a memorable concert at Studio 54 never forget that the presentation of the two-headed training "The last row" which meant a point apart, not only in the organization between my neurons but, truly, in the direction of a road definitely accustomed to the risk of color, the difficulty and lack of conventions and dogmas that were not art and finding out where the beauty outside ... 
"Where were you then when you both use? Nad
ie better than anyone, but you believed win. If I cried at your door to no avail. bar, dumps love ... I flashed my bit worse. Scraps of my life, backlit photos. I feel today as a hawk
wounded by the arrows of uncertainty.
I cut my hair again and again.
I want to defend.
Give me my soul and leave me alone. I try not to fall.
Small tricks to continue in the gap.
I feel today as a hawk call-up of the insurgency.
"
to sink my ax in my throat.
"Note sick to hot night,"
lamppost hit parade of mobile
and shit for shoe soles. intermittent fights in the Porta Coeli.
Madness of fingers mind
dying note and sound of swollen veins: I
waiter, a double gin!
bleeding stopped for a moment
and my reward is watching you unindented
wounds like a dog sniffing
as sacred pungent back
and hidden holes.
sniffed, hound that I was not,
between your legs ...
I hit, I lose the sense of your stuff
and watch me in the dull glow of your eyes.
let me lick the air again: forever be your gift this knife .
Lie: My wish is your lie
to hate,
free from the cloud of loneliness
lit corners of the existence ... I hope the right time, just as
marrow career twist your system
: skin and meat idea lifeless street dog ...". ... The case of a man staid (Disposable
1984)
"He was a man staid, believe in a god that makes it work , and a woman and a child respect and evenings watching television
. ,
the shattered door of his flat found , called his son no one answered,
called his wife to despair
, and on the floor, not a voice,
silence was terrifying.
And on the ground traces of blood found, beyond his wife's clothes found, could not more, not resisted
what happened,
that came
sink , his face was, petrified
full of terror. sink And you know what they found,
a head of his wife , a little arms, legs and feet.
That despair, despair,
for that man all over. "
...
'm now curled up in one of those corners of injustice and as another worker, strolling through the paths of exclusion ...
I, comrade, losing the way losing the way ... ...
. . .
Com diu la cançó d'en Serrat , temps era temps, i, eren uns altres temps els que jo visquí a al gran ciutat que per llavors era, simplement, el meu únic territori. I eren temps de " El Víbora ", de l' anti-contra-foll-heroi- Makoki i de concerts els dissabtes al vespre a la sala Metro ... de córrer pel carrer de Robadors avall a la caça i captura d'algun camell que vengués costo a bon preu... temps, de Neville Brody per via intravenosa i, no cal dir-ho, de borratxeres majúscules tombats a the curb of the fountain in the Plaza Real awaiting the hour of opening the tiny Sidecar ... and fleeting glances of people who came from a wild Pogo concert Decib Elios the front and red cruixides limbs ... oi! Oi! Oi! 
"We are the subculture we are the force of the street we are the subculture we are the harsh reality " ... and regular visits to the comics shop continued ... behind the Town Hall (and next can PSUC ) to learn more of the new publications bande dessinée local and, especially, from which we came, fresh and fantastic, of in France that I could bring myself dreaming of those someday. Do not worry though, comics, one of my great passions, discuss, I swear! ! in depth several times ...
"Covers my almost incunabula n º s 1 of the legendary journals The Viper and Makoki "
And at that time who were also songs of uncompromising disposable, one of the bands that seed m'obnubilaven mind. The darkness, violence, bitter portrait of those killed in the neighborhood that we listened to the news reported when the victim was the first of Spain or the radio when the deceased had been a neighbor of the Eixample orRaval and ... momentum, the vehemence and why not say so, almost animal attraction of Tere , that beast callers as soon battered souls lifted by alcohol lifted as of bottle, magically, mind pornography guys fifteen years and raised acne like me, not eye removed from the body.
And it was as well as a handful of bands, some local and others as or Toy Dolls Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (where we went to live them in room 666 of Poblenou on November 84) that came from beyond the Pyrenees that, gradually, it's going to put in a different way of digesting time the city and certain induced desire to go ahead ... disappointed as a dog ...
... and two years later would with a memorable concert at Studio 54 never forget that the presentation of the two-headed training "The last row" which meant a point apart, not only in the organization between my neurons but, truly, in the direction of a road definitely accustomed to the risk of color, the difficulty and lack of conventions and dogmas that were not art and finding out where the beauty outside ... 
"Where were you then when you both use? Nad ie better than anyone, but you believed win. If I cried at your door to no avail. bar, dumps love ... I flashed my bit worse. Scraps of my life, backlit photos. I feel today as a hawk
wounded by the arrows of uncertainty.
I cut my hair again and again.
I want to defend.
Give me my soul and leave me alone. I try not to fall.
Small tricks to continue in the gap.
I feel today as a hawk call-up of the insurgency.
"
Barcelona ___ : ___ dog disappointment "Time and time notes ... between the time the dog breath Casc the alleyways of antic ... Downpour nails split between
time and notes grabbing the beast by the neckto sink my ax in my throat.
"Note sick to hot night,"
lamppost hit parade of mobile
and shit for shoe soles. intermittent fights in the Porta Coeli.
Madness of fingers mind
dying note and sound of swollen veins: I
waiter, a double gin!
bleeding stopped for a moment
and my reward is watching you unindented
wounds like a dog sniffing
as sacred pungent back
and hidden holes.
sniffed, hound that I was not,
between your legs ...
I hit, I lose the sense of your stuff
and watch me in the dull glow of your eyes.
Lie, mud, dirt,
tell me your stories for childrenlet me lick the air again: forever be your gift this knife .
Lie: My wish is your lie
to hate,
free from the cloud of loneliness
and trickery of that bone of fiction. Servile dog to your look
breath
road
and breath
road
lit corners of the existence ... I hope the right time, just as
marrow career twist your system
: skin and meat idea lifeless street dog ...". ... The case of a man staid (Disposable
1984)
"He was a man staid, believe in a god that makes it work , and a woman and a child respect and evenings watching television
. ,
the shattered door of his flat found , called his son no one answered,
called his wife to despair
, and on the floor, not a voice,
silence was terrifying.
And on the ground traces of blood found, beyond his wife's clothes found, could not more, not resisted
what happened,
that came
sink , his face was, petrified
full of terror. sink And you know what they found,
a head of his wife , a little arms, legs and feet.
That despair, despair,
for that man all over. "
...
'm now curled up in one of those corners of injustice and as another worker, strolling through the paths of exclusion ...
I, comrade, losing the way losing the way ... ...
. . .
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