23-01-12

Un día 23 de enero como hoy hace 19 años nacía una de las personas más importantes de mi vida. Ese día nacía Caro Stanco, mi mejor amiga del alma. Así que un día como hoy 19 años después, aunque en este momento estés quite far away, te quiero desear el mejor cumpleaños que una persona puede tener. Gracias por acompañarme en cada momento de mi vida ya sea bueno o malo o lo que sea que sobrellevamos... y experimentamos juntas. Porque esos momentos fueron, son y serán incontables y maravillosos y sinceramente no desearía pasarlos con otra persona que no fueras vos. FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SISTER. Que tengas un día tan hermoso como vos. Forever together.

Happy days.

I started listening to Infierno 18 when I was like 13 years old. And they are a big part of my life. Probably most of my teenage memories have to do with them and with my best friend and I going to their gigs, talking about them, listening to their music, etc. I honestly couldn't care less about what people think about them. I know what I know and I know them enough to talk about them and that's good enough for me. They're, in my opinion, a wicked band and the way they make me feel is rather amazing. And that's fucking priceless. The new cd is beyond awesome. Can't wait to go to a gig this year. Happy 10 years of your music guys♥.

Hard Rock Café.

We had a great time, didn't we? I'm trying to be okay. I think I'll get there eventually. It's hard and it hurts every single day but I get by with a little help from my friends.

Che,

alguien le debería comentar que no me cabe para nada el suspenso.

Puta que soy.

Jaja, debería tener un twitter para poner cosas tales como:
Hacer cosas de las que después te arrepentís.
Le voy a pedir una sesión intensiva de twitter a Dan Rivero así me hago one.

The lovers.

Up from the pastures of boredom
out from the sea of discontent
they come in packs like hungry hounds
the seekers of the dark enchantment.

They haunt the boulevards and bars
they pray to wishing wells and stars
they ride the hurricane of hope
not looking back but on they go
toward the distance and deceiving
and all the while they keep believing
that they are special and apart
the lovers, the lovers of the heart... the lovers.


And when they pair off two by two
they feel they are the chosen few
and though their beds are made of straw
they feel like velvet in the night
and so the night is never ending
it’s made of distance and pretending
because they’re special and apart
the lovers, the lovers of the heart... the lovers.


And when love goes away
and when goes...
goodbye...
catches in their throats like cotton
rises in their hearts like rain
the good times suddenly are all forgotten
the hunt begins again.


They search the subways and the streets
their faces tired, like their feet
their bodies aching to be warm
and so they hide behind the moon
their loneliness inside them growing
but they take comfort in just knowing
that they are special and apart
the lovers, the lovers of the heart... the lovers.


And when love comes again
and when love comes
hello...
rises from their throats like singing
catches in their hearts like wind
the good things
strangers in their arms are bringing
makes life all right again.

They turn their faces to the light
no longer hiding in the night
so unashamed and unafraid
that they can face each other’s faults
and though the waltz will have its ending
there is no harm in just pretending
that they are special and apart
the lovers, the lovers of the heart... the lovers.

To new beginnings, right?

Coming out of the darkness. New hopes, new dreams...