This is a blog where there is no need to pretend too. Just so worth it. And so the emotions are still allowed. Of time. Now I have to transform them into words.
Because the same day that many people celebrate her birthday on May 12 to celebrate other gives us a grim onomastics. It is not really a celebration. It looks more like an obituary sweet, to a date 'mortal and pink. " Is like a day sadly happy, cold sun.
And so it is hidden behind the pain of a loss, but sweet at the same time as you have left to remember those good times you spent 'vegando'. Alone and with others.
Antonio Vega died at age 51 on this day two years ago, and I could have forgotten, or could hide behind the lack of time, or you could just look to heaven from purgatory.
But death is only relevant for those who are still alive. And so I celebrate this day the rest of my life, my way, reviving what has been experienced by listening to the old boy's nanny sad and lonely, and pour upon his memory some letters as before.
So it seems that the lament for his absence temporarily transforms his very presence. It is as if I provide a calm rewritten in the form of round heaven. Maybe it's just a selfish way of trying to beautify my world. Or maybe it's because writing is exactly like not being in the world.
But the only reality is that the Vega left us, and he did notice, at daylight, and with his departure we left a deep trail, a showcase for dreams to fulfill . Dreams also worth guide newcomers, but for those are always a soundtrack with lyrics by generational anthem.
is true that Antonio's life was incompatible with life, it is true that is devoted to live without practicality, waiting for the decisive hour, with no pretensions to immortality. But surely that is why, many times he could enter eternity in the space of a pentagram, in compositions that lacked the decency to tell unfortunately, without taking the sensitivity to sentimentality.
is also true that, when turned off the music, I used to not admire, and then used to show its most tormented. Even the higher you heard the rumor from the blandishments of followers, judging them stronger as misunderstandings.
So today resurrected the old cliché be alone with his voice among a thousand other , with his feeling and the melodies of despair that make us better understand the world. For the purpose of songs is no force things will go well, but you sound like a truth known.
And today, as every May 12, I turn to cry, to feel her loneliness, to continue peacefully humming the same songs as always, those who wrote without aspiring fashion. And I'll settle for getting back a deafening silence in the form of good memories.
say that sometimes the pain is the wrong person. I do not know if it's lying or simply not true, but to me it sounds great in the case of Vega, and as I also love the sound of the words that are echoed back to give my arm to twist when it comes to rhymes do not rhyme, of which invite you to discover some truth for yourself.
And though I knew, this memory to the Vega did not ever translate verses, because the reflection that his songs and leave me alone is like the greatest poems of unrequited love.
to another teacher.
SiempreVega
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