3,348 Plays

allthingsweezer:

allthingsweezer:

NEW SONG

Lonely Girl - Weezer

=w=

A great song by the revitalized Weezer!

Dijo el marinero (an incomplete project in Spanish)

Dijo el marinero: ¡Que inconveniente que no tengamos un ancla! Y con eso, no dijo más. Sabía que su tío, el coronel del barco, no quería escucharlo; pues, al fin y al cabo, era el marinero quien había perdido el ancla. Ellos se quedaron en la barcaza porque no podían dejarla anclada. El tío quiso contemplar en el silencio, y los demás se habían ido a incursionar en la isla. Pero, el marinero, aburrido de estar en esta barca por algunos meses, desarrollo una obsesión con la tierra firme. Le pidió – casi como un niño entusiasmado – a su tío que lo dejara ir por la costa de la isla.

Su tío, embravecido por que el marinero tenía la audacia de pedirle que le perdonara por las problemas que había causado, le replicó: ¡Esta barcaza es más vieja que la armada española y tiene comida tan podrida que hasta las ratas sienten una aversión a la carne, haciendo parecer a los habitantes del barco como muertos errantes, y solo para empeorar la situación, tus imprudencias y tu adicción al alcohol y esas mujerzuelas – quienes apestaban a pescado a pesar de que nunca habían vivido cerca al mar – has dejado la ancla! Estate quieto y has algo correcto mientras estamos aquí: ponte a limpiar el suelo. Y se calló el marinero mientras hacia su trabajo.

El día se fue y la noche oscura cubrió a la isla. Estuvo inquieto en su cama, hasta que decidió salir hacia la isla. Entro a la selva a esculcar la isla. Parecía como que había caminado por horas, pero ni diez minutos habían pasado desde que escapo bajo el velo de la oscuridad de la noche. Se había perdido y se mermo el espíritu aventurero que había tenido. Se fijó hacia la luna llena mientras se fue disminuyendo su empeño para buscar una salida del bosque. Miro hacia el piso e iba a decir algo cuando noto, por la esquina de su ojo, una luz. Fue hacia la luz y encontró unos indígenas de la isla que estaban festejando alrededor del fuego. Lo había visto uno de los indígenas, y apunto hacia el marinero. Los demás pararon inmediatamente y se levantaron; pero, el marinero se asustó, y se fue corriendo. Algunos de los indígenas lo perseguían y lo alcanzaron rápidamente. Echando gritos de auxilio, los hombres solo se reían mientras cargaron a su presa al campo.

Al llegar al campo, dejaron ir al marinero y el líder del campamento le indico que quería que se siente a su lado. Una de las mujeres en el campamento le trajo algo para tomar; todos veían al marinero y como no supo que hacer, se tragó su bebida apresuradamente. Se empezaron a reírse otra vez los indígenas y estuvo confundido el hombre; una indígena (quien supo el lenguaje del hombre) le dijo que no se tenía que acabarse la bebida, sino solo tomarle un poco y pasárselo a los demás. Pero todavía se quedó confundido el marinero. Continúo la fiesta, y el hombre solo pudo pensar de qué cobarde se veía cuando se fue corriendo del campamento. Le empezó a dar un sueño y pienso: deja cerrar mis ojos por un momento. Y los cerró por un momento.

Abrió sus ojos y era día; además de eso, ya no estaba en el campamento, si no en un islote.

More on the Soft Parade and other things…

So, I haven’t updated the play for a long time, and I don’t know that I will continue to update it any time soon. (I think I may have lost the file where I kept it, but I’m going to try to find it and post up a small part of it.) Anyways, while listening to the song a while back, it gave me a second idea based on the song (one that would appeal to more people).

There is also an incomplete story that I wrote in my high school Spanish class a while back. I will probably post it, because I thought it had potential to be a fairly decent surrealistic story (if I had edited certain parts and completed it). It will probably be up soon (unless it too is lost).

So…

I know it has been a while since I last posted anything, and it still might be some time before I actually post some of the stuff that I’ve had. The past few months have been stressful to some degree, but things are seemingly slowing down. So I should be posting something soon.

Status of the Soft Parade Story

I’m thinking thinking about posting the first act (the only part I was able to complete) for my class because it might be a long time before I post a fully revised story based on the song. I might put updated versions of the story, but I’m still not sure. If anyone expresses interest in reading it, then I will post it. However, I must say that it is only the first draft and is lacking a great deal.

After looking over…

After looking over the play based on The Soft Parade, I figured I might just rewrite it as a book, since it will be easier to read. Also, I am currently working on something, it doesn’t look as good as I hoped, but maybe I can change it up and fix it before deciding to post it here. I guess it is a bit of a poem. I’ve never been really even decent at writing poetry, but I am going to give it a shot for this one. Feel free to criticize anything I post.

nevver:

On this day in 1884, Theodore Roosevelt lost his wife and his mother.

To those who should be so misfortune that they should have suffered a tragedy such as this, I cannot say a thing. That is to say, a thing that might comfort you. But I hope that I might say this, and not offend.
If you should feel that your world has truly fallen apart. If you feel that the light that shines and illuminates your life is gone, that the salts of life have gone bland, that purpose itself is nonexistent and is only an illusion, remember that they loved you. When they knew you, they loved you. When they last saw you, they loved you. When that shimmer of light that was in their eyes faded away, they loved you.
If you angered them the last time you met, if you made them cry, if you made them distrust you, remember that they still loved you. For, if you love them today, would they not have loved you today?
So, they loved you. Just as you love them. But they are dead. And you would wish otherwise. I can assure you that, if they were alive, they would not wish to see you dead. You might not be able to bring them back to life, as all living wish they could bring their loved ones back; you should not allow yourself to die with them. Might they be living, they would not wish to see your soul wither away and rot.

nevver:

On this day in 1884, Theodore Roosevelt lost his wife and his mother.

To those who should be so misfortune that they should have suffered a tragedy such as this, I cannot say a thing. That is to say, a thing that might comfort you. But I hope that I might say this, and not offend.

If you should feel that your world has truly fallen apart. If you feel that the light that shines and illuminates your life is gone, that the salts of life have gone bland, that purpose itself is nonexistent and is only an illusion, remember that they loved you. When they knew you, they loved you. When they last saw you, they loved you. When that shimmer of light that was in their eyes faded away, they loved you.

If you angered them the last time you met, if you made them cry, if you made them distrust you, remember that they still loved you. For, if you love them today, would they not have loved you today?

So, they loved you. Just as you love them. But they are dead. And you would wish otherwise. I can assure you that, if they were alive, they would not wish to see you dead. You might not be able to bring them back to life, as all living wish they could bring their loved ones back; you should not allow yourself to die with them. Might they be living, they would not wish to see your soul wither away and rot.

Thoughts

I was taking a nap earlier, and I was waking up, but didn’t feel like getting up. During the time I laid there awake, I asked myself, if humanity were to find out that its final moments were soon to come (for example, a few days from now), what would be our reaction? If we were to come to terms with the fact that we would be closer to our God, what would we think, what is it we would do next? How would we feel about our death? Granted, there are those who might find themselves ending their life before its time out of fear; perhaps, though, it is not because they fear, but because they are angered. They are frustrated, and why, because they do not believe that they had the chance to live their life.

But I ask myself now, is this any reason to be frustrated?

I like to think back George Harrison’s Rising Sun, and the following lyrics: “You can feel your life begin. Universe at play, inside your DNA; you’re a billion years old, today.” I should think, that, individually, we might feel our lives have only just begun. Certainly, if our average life span could not be defined within one century, we might live several hundred year and think that our life is incomplete. Why? Because it seems to never be enough time to do the things we plan. But we should remember that humanity, in the entirety of its existence, has had a population that numbers in the tens of billions (perhaps already having reached the hundred billion mark). We shares over 99% of their genes with the people around us and with our earliest of ancestors. Our DNA is the same DNA of tens of billions of people that ever lived, and, in some way, their experiences are our experiences. We may not have lived through them, and most of the lives of all of humanity has seemingly disappeared as they’ve become forgotten, but they collaborated to form a part of the human experience. I should say, that from this perspective, there might not be a great reason to be frustrated.

Well, those are just my thoughts in the short amount of time that I spent typing this. I’d like to get other opinions though. What are your thoughts on this?

The Completion of the First Act

I think, with the completion of the second scene, the Second Act shall begin. Hopefully, it will become a bit better. Keep in mind, this is a miniature play, so each scene currently takes up less than an entire page.