En los años que llevo de observar la vida y sus actores descubrí que no hay nada que me frustre más que lo que no tiene sentido. Busco significados y metáforas en lo más cotidiano, intentando no caer en el afán por la utilidad -no quiero que todo me sirva, tan solo que me haga pensar-. Con este mismo espíritu me encontré sentado en la calle, acompañado de un amigo que esperaba como yo para entrar en un recital. Somos los dos consumidores de textos filosóficos -tal vez yo un poco más de los psicológicos-, lo que suele ser un tópico recurrente en nuestras divagaciones. Esta vez no fue la excepción, y llegamos a conclusiones interesantes y profundas que, reservándome el derecho a un par de aportes ajenos al debate, me gustaría compartir con ustedes.
La conversación giró en torno a similitudes entre las teorías sobre la vida y su funcionar que teníamos a mano en la memoria -bien teológicas, agnósticas o ateas- y los juegos que encontramos en una plaza. Incluiré, para comunar conceptos, imágenes de los juegos acorde los mencione y analice.
Si alguna vez vieron y se interesaron en el Guernica, de Picasso, sabrán la terrible historia de la guerra civil española que representa. Sabrán cómo Picasso mostraba el dolor y la angustia con el cubismo, sabrán qué significa cada personaje, sabrán qué quiso mostrar Picasso. Pero, ¿Y si Guernica no significa eso?¿Y si escondido en el Guernica se encuentra un Picasso que no quiso decir lo que pensamos? Hoy, juego a ser ese Picasso escondido, que escribe desde su Guernica.
lunes, 30 de enero de 2017
Proud to be me
There are many trees in this forest
and yet all of them share the same old song.
Each one has their own special tree lovers,
but there's no fighting, and no one's alone.
Maybe the trees are wiser than the people.
Maybe because they`ve been here for too long.
So when someone tries to rain in their parade
they just sing again their same old song:
Proud to be me.
Oh, why can't you see
there's nothing wrong with trying to be who I'm meant to be?
Proud to be me.
Sorry if you disagree,
but nothing you could say will ever make me feel less proud to be me.
Maybe the trees are wiser than us, poeple.
Maybe we should listen to what they say.
Maybe we should start a revolution,
so, as the trees, we should sing today:
Proud to be me.
Oh, why can't you see
there's nothing wrong with trying to be who I'm meant to be?
Proud to be me.
Sorry if you disagree,
but nothing you could say will ever make me feel less proud to be me.
and yet all of them share the same old song.
Each one has their own special tree lovers,
but there's no fighting, and no one's alone.
Maybe the trees are wiser than the people.
Maybe because they`ve been here for too long.
So when someone tries to rain in their parade
they just sing again their same old song:
Proud to be me.
Oh, why can't you see
there's nothing wrong with trying to be who I'm meant to be?
Proud to be me.
Sorry if you disagree,
but nothing you could say will ever make me feel less proud to be me.
Maybe the trees are wiser than us, poeple.
Maybe we should listen to what they say.
Maybe we should start a revolution,
so, as the trees, we should sing today:
Proud to be me.
Oh, why can't you see
there's nothing wrong with trying to be who I'm meant to be?
Proud to be me.
Sorry if you disagree,
but nothing you could say will ever make me feel less proud to be me.
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)