4/9/12
Aquella mañana cualquiera.
Aquella
era una mañana cualquiera, aunque, si lo piensas, todas las mañanas son
diferentes a pesar de que la rutina se imponga. Esa, esa pequeña diferencia es
la que hace que el conjunto de los días que forman tu vida merezcan la pena.
Hace que desees seguir luchando por ti y, sobre todo por los tuyos, que son
parte de ti. Es justo esa ambición humana de conocerlo todo, que se presenta
casi como una necesidad, la que crea la impaciencia por vivir más y mejor, por superar
a la naturaleza, vencer la enfermedad y el sufrimiento.
Publicado por
foolingroger
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It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.
don't I know it? I
answered.
I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night
nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.
I walked down the stairway and
into it.
-Charles Bukowski.
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.
don't I know it? I
answered.
I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night
nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.
I walked down the stairway and
into it.
-Charles Bukowski.
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