Sandman quotes #2

Eπειδή έμαθα ότι κάποιοι πολύ λίγοι ψηθήκαν με Sandman, και γκουγκλάρανε και γκουγκλάρανε μετά το #1, και επειδή έχουμε και αγγλομαθές κοινό (hey dude), θα παραθέσω κάτι που το είχα σαν μανιφέστο στην εφηβεία μου. Έτσι για να θυμηθούμε τα παλιά, we could have been right all along...

Πάλι από volume 9, The Kindly Ones
(καλά αυτός ο τόμος πόσο γαμάτος είναι; Είναι να μη θυμώσουν οι τρεις κυρίες που είναι μία και τα κάνουν όλα πουτάνα... Έτσι να καταστρέφονται τα realms ένα ένα, βιβλιοθήκες και παρτέρια να γκρεμίζονται, να βλέπω νεραϊδούλες να μυξοκλαίνε και όνειρα να σφάζονται, όλα αυτά γιατί ο Dream νευρίασε λίγο τις Kindly Ones, αλλά πάνω απ' όλα ψυχραιμία παιδιά, μας λέει ο δικός σου, που προσεγγίζει τα όρια της απάθειας, δεν είναι δα και το τέλος του κόσμου ή των κόσμων, όχι, το Worlds' End είναι ο 8ος τόμος...)
και πάλι από τη Rose η οποία βέβαια την έχει ακούσει κανονικότατα από την παρουσία του/της Desire οπότε είναι αναμενόμενο να μας τα λέει λίγο γλυκανάλατα. Της τη λέει ωραία όμως ο/η Desire στο τέλος, παρ'τα στη μάπα κι εσύ και τα τριανταφυλλάκια σου και κράτα και τον αναπτήρα για να με θυμάσαι, αφήνοντας τον με τον καπνό απ' το τσιγάρο του/της ως μόνες αποδείξεις ότι ήταν ποτέ εκεί.


ROSE: Have you ever been in love?

DESIRE: You might say that.

ROSE: Horrible, isn't it?

DESIRE: In what way?

ROSE: It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...

You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "Maybe we should just be friends" or "How very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way to your heart.

DESIRE: How picturesque.

ROSE: It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that.

Especially not love.

I hate love.

DESIRE: I think I preferred you, granddaughter, when you were stoically complaining about not feeling anything.

Crappy morning

Misery.
The only word describing perfectly that morning.
Misery and a bitter taste of a headache.
Funny thing in waking up in a place you didn't expect to wake up is that there are a lot of small surprises for you to find out.
Misery
describes perfectly an early morning when you realize you fell asleep still holding your cigarette.
A cigarette
One of those waiting all night long for you to suck them, as loyal companions usually do.
A cigarette
One of those you kiss and kiss and smile at, knowing that you are both killing each other - only thing is, you are not usually the one going out first.
There is a chance, that, sometimes, on one of those nights you reach deep in the rotten cocks' pit, when having drunk a liter of Irish medicine and hitting your head on the pub's table don't make it sound any better, when there is no one to clean the vomit off your hair, maybe then, it's your turn to go out first.
So misery was there that morning looking all sexy and gorgeous.
Misery was between my fingers, misery was laying her eggs in my throat coloring my spit brown, misery was there when I tried to get up and, apart from a passed out human, I touched a nest of ashes and cigarette butts. Yep, that was misery, for sure, we've met before, had a couple of drinks...
What the fuck happened here last night?
Classic signs:
A throat as dry as a dehydrated pussy that had sex for days non stop until blood replaced cum.
A mouth angry for all the shit and piss I've been sending down all night long.
A nose full of black hard stones that remind me something could be wrong with smoking.
Eyes. Eyes? I see no eyes yet, give some time.
Every single joint hurts, every move I make asks me to lay down until somebody picks me up, or until the world ends at least.
That's the spirit to get started with a new day in an early morning. Is it even morning still? What day is it anyway?
Could have been morning when I fell asleep talking bullshit with a friend, but I just hope it's still the same day.
I didn't need second thoughts to wipe my fingertips on my clothes; never mind, that's what washing machines are for.
I can smell something weird. Hmm... Misery smells differently on every person.
I stink. I smell of dust, mold and morning spit. I smell of 3-days old sweat, period blood and smoke. I smell of whiskey and beer and maybe some coke. I smell like shit, more or less.
On the other hand my co-sleeper/drooling corpse seems to be smelling just fine. How remarkable! How can they do this? Walk in and out straight of the shitlakes in hell, and they could still smell just fine.
I find bruises all over my body. Maybe because I tend to bump into things when I'm drunk. Legs and arms, they just head their own separate ways. The bruises over my arm veins seem a lot bluer today, they seem darker blue with delicate yellow tips. Who cares? If it gets rotten, I'll know it.
A look around the place:
glasses, bottles, spirits poured on the floor (what a waste!), cigarettes, tobacco everywhere, a lighter, clothes, napkins, snacks, books, notes, an ashtray full of something black and sticky and stinky - don't wanna know more.
Oh fuck, it's one of those times you think you should talk this out with somebody, but talking is the last thing I wanna do now. Make me do anything, only, I beg you, do not ask questions. No questions asked. Not in a sick lazy morning, not ever.
That dude next to me... Should I wake him up or should I go back to sleep and wake up when everything would make sense? Fuck it, I need to pee. Some more door-and-table-bumping on the way, some more bruises that will make me look like my ass got kicked really hard last night. Which could be true, by the way.
How many painkillers should I swallow and how many cups of dark coffee should I drink before I log in to reality? I really hate it when reality strikes hard straight on my forehead mercilessly like bad news not getting any better day by day.
The room smells like dirt and decadence, like dead dreams and decapitated deliria, like desperate desires and destructive destinies. Before last night, it seemed like a really neat place to invite friends at and have some mint tea with them. Now, only gazing around makes me wanna puke.
One could claim that we met delight last night. But it seems she ran away by the time misery got in the game.
Misery: cruel like an ex, compassionate like a bro, meticulously slow like an enemy.
I gotta run too before they wake up. Before it starts raining whos and whys and whats.
I hate morning questioning.

And if their love seems to fade, mama's gonna find a thing to trade

I once knew a king and a queen
The king had a thing in his spleen
The queen was acting like a mysterious teen
The king was all cranky and weird
The queen was collecting everything that she feared
The king was into spades
The queen was into hearts
Long story short, one of them was hit by darts
Who was it, I still cannot figure out
I can hear them at night; they seem to shout quite loud
They fight, they beat themselves to death, they kiss
And then here goes the sun promising for all bliss
Once I heard a shot
and then nothing
And then a bang
and then maybe something

It's not the things you lose, it's those you miss
that make you feel like shit floating in piss

I was told so many stories, so many things
Had a cute voice singing to me lullabies for grown-up kids
I was told in one of these stories
that I shouldn't compromise for less
and I should always try to reach this sweet happy mess
the one I have been missing all along

I was told a lot of stuff
I nearly believed it, that I was that much tough
now I cannot hold it
I miss these cold autumn nights
waking up wet by the city lights
I cannot handle it
sleeping in strangers' beds
waking up smiling to other faces
All I want is to touch your hair and smell your scent
which is so sweet, shouting "dude, this is not the end"
I may sound mad
but I could be just playing it bad
- You think I like it when I go home by a cab? -

Thing is, I don't know how long I can last
I need all the shit out of me and please make it fast!
I'll put it in a plastic bag, throw it where the ships hang out
so I can at last sleep safe and sound

It wasn't easy to pull myself together and write this
so, as a coward, I challenge you to guess
- take it as a puzzle -
which line is missing here that could end in "mess"?

Re: hush baby hush

Got bored to listening to your stupid songs
Got bored to listening to these mockingbird stories
They got old
They're out-of-date
and "out of order"
There are no mockingbirds, no daisies, no Santa's elves
I never got on your plane
Because I was bored
I was bored and pissed off
Sick of your innocent lies and your fairytales
Sick of your stories with no nightingales
I'm not gonna hush, this is all too fucked up
Just please; make the mockingbird shut up
I only used your acid
but it was fake
Had some nice time for a while
Then you gave me a break
My nights are already wasted
Ate your pie, regret that I tasted it
I killed the fly; he was talking too much
He played it wise but was all maybes and buts
I had a friend lost, as you said, in this other land
He was having fun drinking "Bud" until he got killed by a gang
A teens' gang indeed; they're now tagging with his blood
Last thing I told him was "take a song and make it sad"
So, about this other land...
Sorry, but trust me: no vampires, no midgets, not a single unicorn
Only some desperate clowns watching porn all day long

I only wish that once - just once - you sang of nightingales
or sparrows or peacocks - although they breathe no melodies
I only wish that once - just once - you sang of other birds
not just that stupid, arrogant, selfish, asshole mockingbird

I'll catch one, I need it
I'll drown it to death
I'll bring it back to life then
So I can kill it again
I'll feed it to my cat
She only wishes that once - just once - I made her a nice meal
That's why for months I keep searching for baby seals

I don't need your tales anymore, nor my teddy
Only two words always go with your songs:
Notsorry
Notready

Please
Kill the mockingbird
Make it shut the fuck up
And I'll be fine
Before you even hush baby
hush

Sandman quotes #1

Τώρα που βλέπω τη μικρή να μεγαλώνει και να ετοιμάζεται σιγά σιγά για πανελλαδικές και να αγχώνεται για το σχολείο,
να μεγαλώνει και να με κάνει να αναρωτιέμαι πώς έγινα έτσι και πού στο διάλο πήγαν ο ενθουσιάσμος και η όρεξη για ζωή που είχα,
να μεγαλώνει και να γίνεται 17 σήμερα,
να μεγαλώνει και να με σπρώχνει και μένα όλο και πιο βαθιά στο χρόνο,
να μεγαλώνει και να κανονίζει πάρτυ με ξύδια σ' ένα σπίτι που η μουσική δεν ξεπερνάει το 8 στο volume,
αυτό που έχω να πω είναι ότι όλα ξεκίνησαν όταν πρωτοδιάβασα πριν πολλάάά χρόνια Sandman.
Αυτό φταίει για όλα και τέλος.

Οπότε μένει να παραθέσω το εξής, αφού τι άλλο να κάνουμε από το να αρχίσουμε μια σειρά με αφιερωμένα quotes:
(το συγκεκριμένο είναι από το The Kindly Ones, τόμος 9 για όποιον το ψάχνει)

Rose Walker's Journal: I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love someone. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich, or how to be poor.

They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying.

They don't teach you anything worth knowing.

Πάρτε και τη σελίδα να έχετε:

Και ειδικά αφιερωμένη στο ΚΥΠαλ η μετάφραση:
Ημερολόγιο της Ρόουζ Γουόκερ: Φτιάχνω μια λίστα με τα πράγματα που δε σου μαθαίνουν στο σχολείο. Δε σου μαθαίνουν πώς να αγαπάς κάποιον. Δε σου μαθαίνουν πώς να είσαι διάσημος. Δε σου μαθαίνουν πώς να είσαι πλούσιος, ή πώς να είσαι φτωχός.
Δε σου μαθαίνουν πώς να παρατήσεις κάποιον που δεν αγαπάς πια. Δε σου μαθαίνουν πώς να ξέρεις τι τρέχει στο μυαλό κάποιου άλλου. Δε σου μαθαίνουν τι να λες σε κάποιον που πεθαίνει.
Δε σου μαθαίνουν τίποτα που να αξίζει να μάθεις.

Peculiar thoughts of a kind Pedophile

(or smile when world's end is far behind)

“Where is your mommy now, little girl? Don't you miss your mommy, while you are sitting here, holding your teddy bear, in a dark wet ugly corner, far from World's End?

Where is your daddy, little girl? Isn't he some kind of a superman who will jump in here from the window and save you? No?

Where are your friends, little girl? Where are all these funny depressed story-tellers you used to hang out with? What? You lost them?

So... all that is left to you is this weird “looking-like-a-pedophile-bait” teddy? Really?

Wanna hang out, you and me? I'm alone too, you know. I came out of nowhere and I'm heading nowhere, so, I suppose I can spare some time for you. They say loneliness and misery are on the very same chocolate bar you have to break some pieces of and share them with somebody. On the other hand, they say a lot of things, don't you think? It's just bullshitting with our minds, all this talking...

Oh, come on now, stop crying... Do you want some candy, I have some candy in my pocket, do you want it? Great, now, that's better, see?

You know, I always thought that there was some kind of trick little kids do when they run away from home; something like throwing small pieces of bread or small stones so as to find their way back easily. How come you didn't do that? You look like a smart little princess. Oh, I see, you don't actually want to go back, do you? I suppose you prefer sitting here sobbing and trembling, hungry and thirsty, talking to this creepy pale tall guy who offered you candy and who probably is some kind of a sexually disturbed personality. I see your point. I've been there quite a few times myself; trying to escape from dangerous situations, ending up all alone in the middle of nowhere, I know how you feel. A fresh start straight from level zero is quite challenging, huh? At last, you managed to escape routine and boredom, security and protection... Yeah right, but at what cost little girl? Is it worth it? Is it worth it, giving up an obviously well-set life, a stable state of happiness, a familiar universe, only to avoid killing yourself out of boredom? Of course, of course, that's not how you feel nor how you think, of course, I didn't want to insult you princess... Like you can even believe your own self...

So, that's how it's going to be from now on? Me doing all the talking, you eating all my candy, your teddy just watching us in action? Sounds like a plan, really. But if you ask for my humble opinion, your majesty, I prefer something slightly different...

I prefer to take your teddy bear, your cute innocent teddy bear, and tear it into a million pieces and just watch you crying and crying until you have no more tears left in your eyes. And then, I will grab your pretty cheeky juicy face and reach for your wet naïve eyes and rip them off their sockets so you cannot see a thing nor cry a single teardrop. How does that sound, huh? … you say you don't mind? But without your eyes, how the hell are you going to cry your ass out? OK then, since it's fine by you, it's just wonderful by me. Now let's get started because, honestly, I am not the patient kind of pervert.

Gimme your teddy little girl, and I promise I won't call your mommy to come and get you, nor your daddy. Not even your so precious friends you abandoned back home. You are on your own now. And this is how a real world looks like. Trust me princess; you're gonna love it.”