Better the devil you know
Yes, I work at the Vatican. For three months. The countdown has started.
This is how it feels when I am alone in St. Peter Square at 9 in the morning. Pigeons included.
November 2009
3 posts
12 Miles
Scout Niblett
Sometimes I think about infancy and how I’ve been moulded by time. Escaping from a city to another hasn’t helped me finding a damn way to love my roots. I almost forgot the child that I was. I really need to put down those memories and fix them while I can recall a detail or an image.
Scout Niblett wrote one of my favourite lines of all time. And I feel is quite related to what I was talking about.
12 Miles
It was fun being a baby
They could never catch me
I was with the wind outside, oh where it took me.
and the wind came you were in it pulling at my sleeve
I could feel it.
I walked 12 miles
with each and every step I felt you try to lift me
right out of my shoes from where you were.
and the skies they opened and they whispered to me
“you’re just here to love it baby, you’re just here to join in baby”
Your body needs you
Your limbs they need you
Your fingers need you
Your beauty needs you
I have this body, it means you can touch me and I will feel it
Addiction no. 1 - Record Collecting
I am collecting records since the day that I had my own wallet. The life of the record collector, as many already know, is harsh. 50% of you wants to own a beautiful record to listen to and to admire in your house when winter gets too cold to go outside. 50% of you gets thrown into a frenzy every time that you find something you don’t own yet, in general a useless version of a record you already have on your shelf.
And… what is it all about? What’s the use of filling your house with pricey and priceless stuff? The right answer is: nobody knows. The fact that it may be useless makes the whole habit a little bit forbidden, and therefore exciting. The fact that when you’ll die your nephew will probably auction all your records on eBay in order to buy his first moped makes you realize that life is short and sometimes meaningless.
What I know, is that I enjoy to purchase “pieces of art” made by people who deserve their rights for the amazing work they’ve made. Most of the time I am treated like a fool by the guys of my age: they’re all about filling their fucking iPods with lossy mp3s: no matter what’s in or what’s left out, their aim is to have the newest tecnology and as much music as they can in it. This system discredits music, artists and their power to interact with the audience.
There was a time in which you had to pay attention not to scratch your vinyl or cd to let them work on your shitty stereo. There was a time in which you sat with your headphones on, reading the lyrics and the credits on the album booklet.
Record collecting doesn’t make me a nerd. It makes me retro. In a good way.
Three of my recent gains:
