Munnen formar så roliga linjer. Hon skapar en ny saga. Alla färger känns annorlunda varje gång de dyker fram. Hon bjuder in mig på deras lugna vågor, Ritar nyansernas dans. För att sedan släppa dem fria...
Oh, tonight began with anything. Shaft of a light. A warm breath and a scream. Ah, yeah. Oh, tamper if you like between the doors. Oh yeah. Huh. Huh. Oh, can't expect to go out, to go out with anything, anything more.
Oh reach the door. A breath and a... Oh reach the door. And a la la la la yeah. Life ain't what it's worth. A breath and a... Oh reach the door.
All these reaching hands out grabbing things. Grabbing me. Day in day out accumulating. Ah yeah. Whoa. I suggest you step out on your porch. Oh yeah. Huh. huh. Huh huh, yeah. Run away my son. See it all. Oh see the world.
Oh reach the door. A breath and a... Oh reach the door. Oha and a la la la la yeah. Life ain't what it's worth. A breath and a... Oh reach the door.
Come. Here it comes. There it goes. When it comes. Where it goes. Where it comes. Can't see through the faith. Woah. Ooh. Come. Here it comes. There it goes. Grasp what you can. Don't you know there's something inside your head, yeah.
Oh, if I knew where it was I would take you there but there's much more than this. Ooh. Whoa, much more than this. Woh see the world. Much more than... Oh, much more than. Why?
… I had to wonder what happened to every human in the two decades between seven and twenty-seven to turn a kitten into a cow. Why did children seem to be so often spontaneous, joy-filled and concentrated while adults seemed controlled, anxiety filled and diffused? It was the Goddamn sense of having a self: that sense of self which psychologists have been proclaiming we all must have. What if – at the time it seemed like an original thought – what if the development of a sense of self is normal and natural, but is neither inevitable nor desirable? What if it represents a psychological appendix: a useless, anachronistic pain in the side? – or, like the mastodon´s huge tusks: a heavy, useless and ultimately self-destructive burden? What if the sense of being someONE represents an evolutionary error as disastrous to the further development of a more complex creature as was the shell of snails or turtles?
4 kommentarer:
U snovima moje majke ja sam djechak...
Munnen formar så roliga linjer.
Hon skapar en ny saga.
Alla färger känns annorlunda
varje gång de dyker fram.
Hon bjuder in mig på deras lugna vågor,
Ritar nyansernas dans.
För att sedan släppa dem fria...
Oh, tonight began with anything.
Shaft of a light. A warm breath and a scream.
Ah, yeah.
Oh, tamper if you like between the doors.
Oh yeah. Huh. Huh.
Oh, can't expect to go out, to go out with anything, anything more.
Oh reach the door. A breath and a...
Oh reach the door. And a la la la la yeah.
Life ain't what it's worth.
A breath and a... Oh reach the door.
All these reaching hands out grabbing things. Grabbing me.
Day in day out accumulating. Ah yeah.
Whoa. I suggest you step out on your porch.
Oh yeah. Huh. huh. Huh huh, yeah.
Run away my son. See it all. Oh see the world.
Oh reach the door. A breath and a...
Oh reach the door. Oha and a la la la la yeah.
Life ain't what it's worth.
A breath and a... Oh reach the door.
Come. Here it comes. There it goes. When it comes.
Where it goes. Where it comes.
Can't see through the faith. Woah.
Ooh. Come. Here it comes. There it goes.
Grasp what you can.
Don't you know there's something inside your head, yeah.
Oh, if I knew where it was I would take you there but there's much more
than this.
Ooh. Whoa, much more than this. Woh see the world. Much more than...
Oh, much more than. Why?
Pearl Jam - Breath
… I had to wonder what happened to every human in the two decades between seven and twenty-seven to turn a kitten into a cow. Why did children seem to be so often spontaneous, joy-filled and concentrated while adults seemed controlled, anxiety filled and diffused? It was the Goddamn sense of having a self: that sense of self which psychologists have been proclaiming we all must have. What if – at the time it seemed like an original thought – what if the development of a sense of self is normal and natural, but is neither inevitable nor desirable? What if it represents a psychological appendix: a useless, anachronistic pain in the side? – or, like the mastodon´s huge tusks: a heavy, useless and ultimately self-destructive burden? What if the sense of being someONE represents an evolutionary error as disastrous to the further development of a more complex creature as was the shell of snails or turtles?
L. Rhinehart
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