Where the birds always sing

The world is neither fair nor unfair. The idea is just a way for us to understand. But the world is neither fair nor unfair. So one survives, the others die and you always want a reason why.
But the world is neither just nor unjust. It's just us trying to feel that there's some sense in it.

Where the birds always sing, Robert Smith.


Not anymore.

Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? An obese man... a disgusting man who could barely stand up; a man who if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so that they could join you in mocking him; a man, who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer and I know you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keeping murderers and rapists on the streets! A woman... so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore! Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example.

Se7en (1995) David Fincher.

The Flight of our dreams

... so rapid is the flight of our dreams upon the wings of imagination...

The Three Musketeers, Alexandre Dumas.


You haven't lived.

Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart. I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.

Meet Joe Black (1988), Martin Brest.


The Summer of 1959.

I was twelve going on thirteen the first time I saw a dead human being. It happened in the summer of 1959—a long time ago. But only if you measure in terms of years. I was living in a small town in Oregon called Castle Rock. There were only 1281 people, but to me it was the whole world.

Stand By Me, Rob Reiner (1986).


Decenas de poemas.

Y lloré con la almohada mi estúpida plegaria, y me tragué con vinos una desolación tras otra, perdido en la intemperie que suele ser mi abrigo. Y escribí decenas de poemas que convertí en canciones deplorables.

Adolfo Castelo, Revista TXT, Año 1, Número 35.


The mind is its own place.

Farewell, happy fields, where joy forever dwells!
Hail, horrors! Hail infernal world!
An thou, profoundest Hell,
receive thy new possessor
-one who brings a mind not to be changed by place or time.
The mind is its own place,
and itself can make a Heaven of Hell,
and a Hell of Heaven.

Paradise Lost, John Milton.