sunnudagskvöld

"Cruel"
So don't give me respect
Don't give me a piece of your presiousness
flaunt all sh'es got in our old neighbourhood
I'm sure she'll make a few friends
Even the rain bows down
Let us pray as you cock-cock-cock your mane
No cigarettes only peeled Havanas for you
I can be cruel
I don't know why
Why can't my ba.ll.oo.n stay up in a perfectly windy sky
I can be cruel
I don't know why
I don't know why
Dance with the Sufis
Celebrate your top ten in the charts of pain
Lover brother bogenvilla
My vine twists around your need
Even the rain is sharp
Like today as you sh-sh-shock me sane
No cigarettes only peeled havanas for you
I can be cruel
I don't know why
Why can't my ba.ll.oo.n stay up in a perfectly windy sky
I can be cruel
I don't know whyI don't know why
I can be cruel
I don't know why
Why can't my ba.ll.oo.n stay up in a perfectly windy sky
I can be cruel
I don't know why
I don't know why


Stundum hugsa ég eitthvað....en kem ekki nógu góðum orðum að því...stundum ekki einu sinni nógu góðum hugsunum að því....þá er gott að eiga Tori Amos að!


Annars ætlaði ég ekkert að segja....var að byrja að lesa í sviðslistabókinni minni og upphafsorðin eru þess:

Performance

Usually people say that a truly artistic show will always be unique
impossible to be repeated: never will the same actors,
in the same play, produce the same show.
Theatre is Life.

People also say that, in life, we never really do anything
for the first time, always repeating
past experiences, habits, rituals, conventions.
Life is Theatre.

Augusto Boal