Los demonios se apoderan de tu razon... golpean brutalmente dejandote sin aliento, golpe tras golpe ... El deseo que ahogas en cada ultimo aliento, se multiplica infinitamente ...
Las cadenas golpean tu cabeza sin piedad, ensangrentando tu espiritu. Como en la casa de Asterion, laberinto sin salida ...
Puntada tras puntada, suturas la hedionda llaga, solo alcanzas delirios por causa del dolor ... Con la cabeza a punto de estallar, extraño desceso ... ahogado en un grito ...
"... Y luego vi que por celos el mar de mis tormentos, se tragaba el barco, el tesoro y aquel loco que era yo ......y todo naufragó ...... que lejos tú, que lejos yo, los escombros de mi vida se deslizan con la lluvia ... recordando ..."
Hace algunos días volví al placer momentaneo de la lectura, el mismo que dejé tiempo atrás ... Recuerdo años atrás (muchos), cuando empecé a leer compulsivamente; porque en esto encontraba la esencia de la vida (la mía), que lo cotidiano carecia y fue increible descubrir en las lecturas, ese mundo que algún día esperé, por más utopico que creyera por aquel entonces. Increiblemente podía reir incontables veces, y tuve la certeza (personal, claro está), que algo escrito es capaz de despertar más que las mismas palabras, pienso: no tendría magia escuchar a un narrador (al menos en mi caso). So definitivamente despertó en mi, de alguna manera, todo lo que llevaba dormido hasta ese entonces. Hoy, recuerdo con nostalgía ese lado indiferente de ver las cosas, tan desinteresado, sin esperar nada, sin preocuparse por nada, tan libre y a la vez tan sin sentido, y río por tanto, maldigo por nada. Lo unico de lo que tengo certeza es ... Maktub ... no sé cuando, ni donde, pero ... así es ...
" ... sin tu vida no hay mi vida, y no hay salida. Viene la lluvia, vienen los vientos, cientos ...y te quiero tener y no puede ser"
Estoy extenuado, realmente cansado ... débil, es tan complicado y aún hay mucho por recorrer, nunca terminará ...
Fue tan certero y rapido ... que no caí en cuenta cuando ocurrió ... apenas puedo abrir los ojos ... distingo una silueta ... imagenes borrozas se burlan a mi alrededor ... aún con impetú intento moverme ... Sin reacción en el cuerpo ... la inercia lo impide ... ya todo acabó ...
... " Qué esperas que te cuente, hay poco que decir, tal vez me vaya un tiempo ... te veo muy distinta, qué cosas se me ocurren, todo esto es tan pueril y yo ... solo pasaba por aquí " ...
Tienes problemas de percepción o eres estupido? Y qué, como la llamada que recibiste hace unos días, supongo que estuviste sorprendido a pesar de toda esa basura, efectos del alcohol Quien crees que fue el paño de lagrimas, me cagó el día Que les pasa? que parte no se entendió? Quisiera saberlo tambien, llename la cabeza de basura y lo podré entender, dijo, me impresiona todo lo que dice, como si estudiara lo que va a decir, psicologia hermano, que manera de argumentar Mantente ocupada webona! Que quieres forzar, es imposible Pero entonces, que hago, muero más cada día? Ahora no sabe que hacer, se fue, tengo que hacer algo dijo, lo que sea Esta loca, y de que manera Esta ciego, pensó, no existe tal cosa Le da más importancia de la que tiene Como si lo supieras todo, andá Ahora se alucina superheroe, lo logrará dijo, tal fue su seguridad, lo creyó Desesperación, tambien la conoces y de que manera Viví en el mounstruo, le conozco las entrañas
The gloom has worked with my melancholy, to suppress me!!!
"Gloomy Sunday" (from Hungarian "Szomorú Vasárnap", IPA: ['somoruː 'vɒʃarnɒp]) is a song written by the Hungarian self-taught pianist and composer Rezső Seress in 1933. According to urban legend, it inspired hundreds of suicides. When the song was first marketed in the United States, it became known as the "Hungarian suicide song". There is no systematic substantiation for such claims, as it is not documented where any such allegations appear in press coverage or other publications of the time.
Numerous versions of the song have been recorded and released. Michael Brooks wrote in the program notes for the 10-CD set, "Lady Day" - the Complete Billie Holiday on Columbia, 1933-1944:
"Gloomy Sunday reached America in 1936 and, thanks to a brilliant publicity campaign, became known as The Hungarian Suicide Song. Supposedly after hearing it, distraught lovers were hypnotized into heading straight out of the nearest open window, in much the same fashion as investors after October, 1929; both stories are largely urban myths."
Song The crushing hopelessness and bitter despair of the original lyrics by Seress were soon replaced by the melancholic lyrics of the Hungarian poet László Jávor.
Sam M. Lewis and Desmond Carter each translated the song into English. The 1935 British recording by Paul Robeson (released in the US in 1936) combined the relentlessly downbeat Carter lyrics with a dirgelike arrangement, and is perhaps the gloomiest of the English-language versions. Sam Lewis's somewhat more-mainstream lyrics were performed in 1936 by Hal Kemp and his Orchestra, then later by Artie Shaw and Billie Holiday. The popularity of "Gloomy Sunday" increased greatly after its interpretation by Billie Holiday in 1941. Her performance established Lewis's version as the standard for later interpreters. Attempting to alleviate the pessimistic tone, a third stanza was added to the Billie Holiday version, giving the song a dream theme (starting with "Dreaming, I was only dreaming"). Diamanda Galás's 1992 version used Carter's lyrics, but most recent versions have used Lewis's.
The origin of the song became the background of the German/Hungarian movie "Gloomy Sunday - Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod" (1999) (A Song of Love and Death), based on the novel by Nick Barkow, co-written and directed by Rolf Schübel and starring Joachim Król, Ben Becker, Stefano Dionisi and Erika Marozsán.
Urban legends There have been several urban legends regarding the song over the years, mostly involving it being allegedly connected with various numbers of suicides, and radio networks reacting by purportedly banning the song. Sources propagating the legend fail to provide substantiation for claims of suicides or radio bans. The legend may have inspired Spider Robinson's short story "The Law of Conservation of Pain", part of the Callahan's Crosstime Saloon series.
In 1968, Seress jumped to his death from his apartment. The New York Times Archive holds the obituary of Rezső Seress, where he is credited with causing suicides. The article reads:
“ Budapest, January 13. Rezsoe Seres, whose dirge-like song hit, "Gloomy Sunday" was blamed for touching off a wave of suicides during the nineteen-thirties, has ended his own life as a suicide it was learned today. Authorities disclosed today that Mr. Seres jumped from a window of his small apartment here last Sunday, shortly after his 69th birthday. The decade of the nineteen-thirties was marked by severe economic depression and the political upheaval that was to lead to World War II. The melancholy song written by Mr. Seres, with words by his friend, Ladislas Javor, a poet, declares at its climax, "My heart and I have decided to end it all." It was blamed for a sharp increase in suicides, and Hungarian officials finally prohibited it. In America, where Paul Robeson introduced an English version, some radio stations and nightclubs forbade its performance. Mr. Seres complained that the success of "Gloomy Sunday" actually increased his unhappiness, because he knew he would never be able to write a second hit. - New York Times, 1968
In 1997 Billy Mackenzie, vocalist with Scottish band The Associates (who recorded a cover of Holiday's version in 1982), committed suicide near his father's home in Dundee.
The codifying of the urban legend appears in an article attributed to "D.P. MacDonald" and titled "Overture to Death", the text of which has been reproduced and disseminated countless times online. According to the website of Phespirit the article was originally published by the 'Justin and Angi' site to augment their now defunct "Gloomy Sunday Radio Show". Their introduction to the article reads:
“ This message was forwarded to us by a visitor to our web site. There is some good historical information on the song intermixed with some information of more dubious repute. The accounts begin to take on the feel of a satiric e-mail chain letter after a while, but then, sometimes truth is indeed stranger than fiction. The story does read a little bit like the script of a segment from Strange Universe! So take this with a grain of salt ..... The text was [supposedly] quoted from the Cincinatti (sic) Journal of Ceremonial Magick, vol I, no I, printed in 1976.
Quizo a su encuentro llegar ... en ella ... sin hallar claridad ... al cerrar los ojos ... entre fantasmas amaneció ... y solo en sueños ... pudo imaginar ... que tan evidente ... esperaba encontrar ... en abismo al final del camino ...
Mood: Sick Listen: Gloomy sunday - Sarah Mclachlan Quote: "I only make jokes to distract myself from the truth."
Todos hemos escuchado la manera despectiva ... con la que se refieren algunas personas ... "Eres un cerdo repulsivo" ... Pero ... "Podrias decir que no desearias estar, en su lugar?" ... (será cierto eso ...???)
Abrió los ojos subitamente, el menor ruido lo despertó ... apesar de haber dormido un par de horas apenas, no sentía el mínimo cansancio ...
(A decir verdad podía dormir tan solo pocas horas para poder recobrar las energías, pero la noche anterior, apesar de querer conciliar el sueño, le fue imposible, sólo el hecho de pensarla terminó dejandolo con una sensación de tranquilidad y pudo descanzar ... )
Desde aquel día, todo cambio ... La vida le mostró lo que tanto esperaba ...
" ...Como ahora me borras te borraré, donde quiera que estés ..."
Ne me quitte pas ... Il faut oublier ... Tout peut s'oublier ... Qui s'enfuit déjà ... Oublier le temps ... Des malentendus ... Et le temps perdu ... A savoir comment ... Oublier ces heures ... Qui tuaient parfois ... A coups de pourquoi ... Le coeur du bonheure ... Ne me quitte pas ... Ne me quitte pas ... Ne me quitte pas ...
Don't leave me ... We must forget ... all that can be forgotten ... that already has passed away ... Forget the times ... of misunderstandings ... and the times lost ... trying to know how ... Forget those hours ... which sometimes killed ... in attacks of "whys" ... the heart of happiness. ... Don't leave me ... Don't leave me ... Don't leave me ...
No me dejes no ... Olvidemos todo ... se puede olvidar ... lo que ya paso ... los malos entendidos ... Y el tiempo perdido ... Esa niebla azul ... tienes que olvidar ... todas esas horas ... que matan poco a poco ... nuestro amor ... y nuestra felicidad ... no me dejes no ... no me dejes no ... no me dejes no ...
Cualquier destino ... por largo y complicado que sea ... consta en realidad "de un solo momento:" ... el momento en que el hombre sabe para siempre quién es ...
