#but boy oh boy televisor good

[lezbianz]

i put succession on in the background so i could focus on writing my essay while having a familiar sound in the background but now i’m just rewatching succession

[rileymarie]

Fahrenheit 451 Quotes

“Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?” And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the pump-snake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked. But that was another Mildred, that was a Mildred so deep inside this one, and so bothered, really bothered, that the two women had never met. He turned away.

Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books levelled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me?”

Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there's your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.

Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!”

School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”

More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience.

Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal.

Coloured people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator.

You can't rid yourselves of all the odd ducks in just a few years. The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That's why we've lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we're almost snatching them from the cradle.

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.

Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely.

And the second?” “Leisure.” “Oh, but we've plenty of off-hours.” “Off-hours, yes. But time to think? If you're not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can't think of anything else but the danger, then you're playing some game or sitting in some room where you can't argue with the fourwall televisor. Why? The televisor is 'real.' It is immediate, it has dimension. It tells you what to think and blasts it in. It must be, right. It seems so right. It rushes you on so quickly to its own conclusions your mind hasn't time to protest, 'What nonsense!'”

“Jesus God,” said Montag. “Every hour so many damn things in the sky! How in hell did those bombers get up there every single second of our lives! Why doesn't someone want to talk about it? We've started and won two atomic wars since 1960. Is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? Is it because we're so rich and the rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are? I've heard rumours; the world is starving, but we're well-fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much?

Lord, how they've changed it — in our 'parlours' these days. Christ is one of the 'family' now. I often wonder it God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshipper absolutely needs.”

The same infinite detail and awareness could be projected through the radios and televisors, but are not. No, no, it's not books at all you're looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.

"Number one: Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.

“So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless.

Only if the third necessary thing could be given us. Number one, as I said, quality of information. Number two: leisure to digest it. And number three: the right to carry out actions based on what we learn from the inter-action of the first two.

They're Caesar's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, 'Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.' Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.

Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”

The old man nodded. “Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.”

[james-pottr]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕛𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕒 ( @marymacd​ ) •°*”˜.•°*”˜ 

“Wait, start again for me. It’s called a what?”

“A television, James.”

“A tellyvisor?”

The heavy sigh that bursts from Mary’s mouth is almost enough to make James laugh; a small smile of amusement already playing at his lips. Her normally placid and kind expression had crumpled with exacerbation and James only wished he was doing this on purpose so that he might stop.

In all truth, Mary had offered to do something exceptionally kind for him, and he hated that he was being such a bother about it. She was, after all, trying to prepare him for the Muggle world the best she could.

James knew that he could have always asked Lily, who had a far more interesting way of rewarding him for correct answers, but the whole point of such an exercise was to surprise Lily. James wanted to increase his knowledge of Muggle things and ideas so that he might make a good impression on the Evans’. He knew that his natural charm should be enough to win them over, but he was nothing if not an overachiever.

And that was where Mary had come in.

The last thing that James wanted to do when meeting his girlfriend’s parents was to embarrass himself, or them, or Lily with his lack of knowledge. Nor, he supposed, did he want to give her sister any more reason to hate his guts.

(Though with the way Lily spoke about Petunia, he had a feeling she would hate him regardless).

So with that in mind, James had set his plan in motion.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕺𝖓𝖊: 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This had been simultaneously the easiest and hardest part of the whole endeavour. How could he get Mary alone without arousing suspicion from just about every single one of their mutual friends? He liked Mary, he really did, and he knew he could probably call her his friend, but there was no pretending that she wasn’t Lily’s friend first.

This wasn’t like with Marlene, who had always been equally James and Lily’s at the same time, nor was it like Sirius, who James was pretty certain still didn’t trust Lily completely, despite the fact James was head-over-heels. Not that he’d acknowledge it to his best friend’s face, but James had a feeling Sirius was behaving rather like a small child who didn’t want to share a toy. 

Instead, it was more like Mary had always been on the peripheral of James’ world. She wasn’t practically family like Marls, nor was she the centre of his fascination like Lily. She was just...Mary. Solid, dependable Mary and someone James was pretty glad he was getting to know.

But growing friendships aside, it wasn’t like he could just be like “Oi, Macdonald, need to speak with you” without arousing suspicion and Merlin apparently forbid she ever study alone.

So desperate times called for desperate measures.

He jinxed her shoes.

Not drastically. Just enough that she would trip over her shoelaces and drop her belongings everywhere. And okay, maybe he had timed it right before Lily had a meeting with McGonagall and when Remus was out sick, so that James was the only one around that could swoop in like a true gentleman and save the day.

It was hard not to pump his fist in glee at how well it worked.

Mary, however, seemed less than pleased.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with this,” she had said suspiciously as he ducked down to scoop up the scattered pieces of parchment. James tried his best to look as innocent as possible, but there was a strong chance he just came off mildly constipated. His attempts lasted only a few more seconds before he gave in with a deep sigh and a crooked grin. He’d only just convinced Mary that he wasn’t as much of an idiot as she thought he was; they didn’t need to be taking backwards steps.

“I need your help,” he said, not bothering with her question. They didn’t really have to get into the logistics of the whole tripping jinx, did they? Mary’s whole face seemed to crumble with confusion and as he clamours to his feet, James began to explain, his hands already waving a mile a minute.

“I need you to help me not make an utter prat of myself in front of Lily’s dad.” he spluttered finally, and realisation slowly sank into Mary’s expression. It seemed to take a fair bit of convincing to win her around - although James had a feeling she was just prolonging it to stir him up - as well as at least two strange looks from Sirius when they finally emerged from the classroom, but James was pleased with the progress.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝕷𝖔𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖘

If James had thought trying to get Mary alone long enough to seek her help was hard, it had nothing on their attempts to actually hold their secret Muggle Studies meetings. Sure, Mary could have just thrown a textbook at his head and told him to read, but James had liked the thought of being taught by someone with actual experience, and he had a feeling that Mary liked the idea of getting to boss him about for a bit. 

The trouble was, of course, they had quite possibly the neediest group of friends he had ever seen. James loved his friends, he did. He would die for Sirius and Remus and Peter, had done many an illegal thing for them, and obviously, Lily and Marlene were the lights of his life in romantically and platonic ways, but did they all have to be so up in his business all the time? 

(Thinking such a thing caused many a restless night of guilt in the weeks following).

The last thing James wanted was to be caught ‘sneaking’ around with Mary, even if their intentions were completely innocent. It was bad enough some of the wankstain Slytherins had already started suggesting James had a 'thing’ for people of a certain blood-status. He just figured that they weren’t smart enough to recognise what a friend was.

So James did what James did best: utterly bullshitted an excuse.

“I’m helping tutor her in Transfiguration. My Head Boy duties and all,” he spluttered one evening after they had run into Lily and Marlene in the halls outside the library. 

Were looks able to kill, James had a strong feeling the one Mary had shot him in response would have murdered him at least four times over. It wasn’t like he could tell them she was tutoring him? A) That would give away the whole plan and B) everyone knew Lily was the one who ‘helped’ him.

“Nothing too huge,” he had continued to say, feeling the way Mary had twitched beside him, as if she wouldn’t mind clocking him upside the head if given the chance. “Just a bit of revision. But...erm...she gets...I mean I get a bit nervous if too many people are watching my teaching abilities, so if we could just get this done and all meet up for dinner later?”

James had waited a few moments to see if either girl in front of him was about to protest what really was a pretty shitty excuse, before he spun on his heel toward the library. Sure, Mary would probably be subjected to a bunch of questions when she got back to her dorm that night, and okay, James himself was certainly going to get interrogated by Marlene later, if not by Lily at the same time, but for that moment, they seemed to have gotten away with it. 

(The unnecessarily hard poke Mary had delivered to his spine in response suggested that they had not).

And all of that had lead to:

 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Underneath his blase and too-cool-for-this attitude, James was a good student. A lot of it was his natural desire to show off or his need to prove something to Professor McGonagall, but he did genuinely enjoy his schoolwork for the most part.

Unofficial Muggle Studies, however, was not where his talents lay.

Mary, to her credit, was doing the absolute best she could. Their usual table in the library was regularly covered with every book on Muggle customs she could find, many of which were wide open to the relevant pages. What they both hadn’t countered for, though, was how complicated everything then got.

“So the televisor-”

“Television.”

“It shows pictures? And they move like wizarding pictures?”

“Almost. They’re a video, so they move and have sound. There’s different channels, so different things can be playing at once. Like the news might be on, or a film, like how the wireless has different stations or programs.” 

“And the televisor-”

“Television.”

“Television. It uses ecclectrisity?”

“Electricity. And yeah. You plug the cord into the wall-socket, erm…”

There is a long pause as Mary flicks through the pages of a book, trying to find the correct diagram before angling it toward James, pressing her fingernail to each picture in turn. 

“This is a wall-socket where the electricity comes from, and this black tube is the cord, and then this on the end is the plug. The prongs-” James smirks. “-stop it, not your daft nickname. The electrical prongs go into the socket, and the outlet sends electricity to power the television. Following?”

The look on James’ face, however, suggests that she had lost him at the mention of his aforementioned daft nickname, and was not following her at all.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes and bop James on the head with a textbook at the same time, Mary chews listlessly on her bottom lip instead.

“I don’t really think you need to worry about knowing how the television works. Just don’t go all goggle-eyed at it if it gets turned on. Her family know you’re a wizard anyway, that you might not understand this stuff.”

James shrugs his shoulders in response. He wasn’t certain as to why he was so desperate to get their approval, other than wanting the Evans’ to understand that he wanted to be a part of their world as much as Lily was a part of his...of theirs.

“I s’pose,” he says listlessly, before shooting Mary a cheeky grin, one that she immediately seems to brace herself against. “How about instead of all this televisor and eccclectricty stuff, we go down to the pitch and practice that no-brooms Quidditch game you showed me?”

“I showed you two, and neither of them are called ‘no-brooms Quidditch’, James.”

“Fine. Please, oh wonderful Mary, can we please go down to the pitch and play soccer?”

“Do we have to?”

“It’s a teaching and learning opportunity.” 

Mary’s facial expression does nothing but express how little she believes what was coming out of James’ mouth, but she stands up, shaking her head regardless, a small smile playing at her mouth as she does so. At least he’d learnt something, she supposes. 

There’s an extra spring in James’ step as they leave the library, having neatly stacked their mess of books on the table behind them, and he can’t help but bump Mary’s shoulder fondly with his own as they walked. “What if we played soccer on brooms?” he asks eagerly, practically bounding down the stairs, much to Mary’s chagrin.

“James, that’s practically just Quidditch,” she splutters, moving to catch up, only to be greeted by a very wide and crooked James Potter smile. 

“That’s exactly the point,” he declares, and despite the fact she still thought him to be a bit of an idiot, Mary can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

Maybe, she supposes, they could be friends without the Lily-factor after all.

𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟

[st-percocet]

rec masterpost

yo here’s some tunes that i recommend cause i get asked to rec bands/songs a lot so yea bold = absolute bangers that i can’t get sick of

SONGS: 1 trillion dollars - anti-flag 17 crimes - afi 302 - the lippies 5 to 9 - fidlar 6969 - ninja sex party acid baby - spilt addicted - simple plan afraid of heights - billy talent alfie - lily allen aliens are real don’t tweak - netherfriends all american girl - adickdid alone and stoned - king tuff alone is no together - jamie campbell bower / the darling buds a mask of my own face - lemon demon a more perfect union - titus andronicus a new wave - sleater-kinney anxiety - pinact atmosphere - joy division bad egg - hands off gretal bad habit - the kooks bad kids - black lips beach bones - more amor ft ryan ross beck and call - sundressed better man - jamie campbell bower better than sex - the midnight beast billionaire - travie mccoy ft bruna mars bitch theme - bratmobile black me out - against me bleed - out came the wolves bleed american - jimmy eat world body - mother mother boy grinder - jack off jill boyfriend - best coast boys wanna be her - peaches bubblegum - mystery jets but a nightmare - danzig byob - system of a down california uber alles - dead kennedys can we laugh now? - 7 year bitch cannonball - the breeders can’t go to hell - sin shake sin cardiac arrest - bad suns carried away - passion pit cat-o-nine-tails - L7 cemeterysexxx - doyle cheer up london - slaves chop suey - system of a down cold hands - the dose colder quicker - real friends come on eileen - dexys mightnight runners constant headache - joyce manor corrine - black honey crazy - gnarls barkley (cee lo green) creature - it looks sad. daddy issues - the neighbourhood dance like a maniac - the dollyrots danny don’t you know - ninja sex party dark necessities - red hot chilli peppers dark nights - dorothy death cup - mom jeans devilgirl - gorgeous frankenstein don’t come home - all human don’t mess with me - brody dalle don’t you wait - cloves dreaming dead girls - doyle egg - shoe. empty apartment - yellowcard even when the water’s cold - !!! evil eye - franz ferdinand faking the benz - from oslo family tree - black lips feels blind - bikini kill fill in the blank - car seat headrest firetruck vagina - baby guts first light - django django flannel - cardboard swords full circle - aerosmith fyi i wanna f your a - ninja sex party genghis khan - miike snow get busy - jimothy lacoste gia - fabulous disaster girls and boys - blur golden - travie mccoy ft sia good rhymes for bad times - bears in trees gothic roccata from the suite - léon boëllmann, roman penicki grace kelly - mika green eyes - wavves ha ha ha - the julie ruin hands down - dashboard confessional happy pills - weathers happy today - the wowz headfirst for halos - my chemical romance heroin - badflower hopeless - screaming females hung like jesus - cancerslug hypnotize - system of a down i killed abor day for you - panucci’s pizza i’ll be your butcher - cancerslug i look good - chantal claret it’s amazing - jamie campbell bower / the darling buds i wanna get better - bleachers i was a teenage anarchist - against me idiot - jeff the brotherhood is this sound okay? - coconut records i’m not crying you’re not crying are you? - dear and the headlights i’m not part of me - cloud nothings jellybean - video nasties jerk it out - caesers jerk of all trades - lunachicks just like you - nial harvest killer ball - gesu no kiwami otome kiss this - the struts la la lainey - forever the sickest kids ластоска - leningrad lezbophobia - tribe 8 liar - the dying arts lights out - royal blood lillibulero - bellowhead loner - fangclub lost on me - peace love bites (so do i) - halestorm makin’ whoopee - neil gaiman, amanda palmer max can’t surf - fidlar maxwell murder - rancid me and the bean - spoon miley - smwrs miss murder - AFI mixtape 2003 - the academic modern swinger - the pink spiders mother - danzig move (i’m coming) - chantal claret my best friend’s hot - the dollyrots my sharona - the knack nagoya - it looks sad. new born - purple nightmare - avenged sevenfold nite vision - mean jeans no surprise - the shacks not my girl - tokyo police club nothing can stop me - heavens to betsy nothing is wrong - analog rebellion no waves - fidlar oh bondage! up yours! - x-ray spex old folks home - cottonwood firing squad olly olly oxen free - amanda palmer (piano is evil version) only acting - kero kero bonito on your side - a rocket to the moon orgy for one - ninja sex party overdose - fidlar palm trees - smwrs panic switch - silversun pickups paradigm - avenged sevenfold paris - magic man psychedelic ascension - mr traumatik pudding - joel cossette rats - ghost red flag - billy talent river - eminem ft ed sheeran romance - wild flag romans - adam walicki salad days - mac demarco samantha - hole same damn life - seether same old blues - phantogram save me - aimee mann say it ain’t so - weezer schism - tool shia labeouf live - rob cantor shit twins - dads sick boy - kill hannah sick shit - together pangea silly boy - the blue van skulls and daisies - danzig slob - artificial fever soldier - dover southern comforting - hotel mira (prev. known as jpnsgrls) speak life - damien marley spooky ghosts - snckpck strange town - the moderates supermodel, superficial - voodoo queens sur la planche 2013 - la femme sweet ‘69 - babes in toyland sæla - black foxxes tears don’t fall (acoustic) - bullet for my valentine teenage whore - hole televisor - morningwood the beer - kimya dawson the devil’s son - creepshow the hounds - the protomen the sound of silence - simon and garfunkel the times they are a-changin’ - bob dylan think of you - bleached time bomb - rancid toy box - ward xvi transylvania - iron maiden trophy wifey - partyline turn me on (radio mix) - wet fingers twin sized mattress - the front bottoms typical girl - the slits ukulele anthem - amanda palmer us - regina spektor vampire’s kiss - john gold virgin sacrifice - doyle volcano girls - veruca salt wait for me - motopony waiting - jamie campbell bower waste of time - elvis depressedly weekend - smith westerns west coast - coconut records whole wide world - big tree without me - eminem you are going to hate this - the frights you’ll fall in love - mrs magician you’re gonna go far kid - offspring

BANDS: against me! - amanda palmer - artificial fever - avenged sevenfold - bellowhead - black foxxes - bleachers - bloodnun - blunderpuss - bullet for my valentine - cancerslug - cobra starship - counterfeit - danzig - dead! - death spells - doyle - earl. - electric century - fidlar - foo fighters - frank iero and the patience - ghost - good charlotte - gorgeous frankenstein - green day - hole - hotel mira - hounding - iron maiden - jimothy lacoste - kero kero bonito -leathermouth - leningrad - marilyn manson - mindless self indulgence - misfits - my chemical romance - ninja sex party - nirvana - papa roach - paramore - pencey prep - poison crow - pup - queen - queens of the stone age - rage against the machine - ramones - rancid - reggie and the full effect - simple plan - slipknot - spilt - sum 41 - swmrs - system of a down - taking back sunday - the darling buds / jamie campbell bower - the dead xiii - the dollyrots - the dresden dolls - the killers - the left rights - the levellers - the pretty reckless - the used - the world you love - video nasties - ward xvi - weathers - weezer - wolfe sunday - yellowcard

[boleronaufrage]

High Street

Sorpresa, ella recula y el gesto de su cara cambia súbitamente. Toma un trago de agua, cruza sus piernas y se queda mirando a Lumberjack fijamente a los ojos, como esperando que este prosiga.

La casa era antigua, un tercer piso en High Street, una de las calles más céntricas de Edimburgo y situada en el Old Town, una zona poblada de tiendas, bares y turistas. Nuestro compañero percibe que Mrs. Green está fingiendo sorpresa en su gesto, se sirve un poco más de agua y continúa:

*

- Lumberjack: So, do you think I can talk to them? As I told you, we just need three students, we do not mind their background, just need to be sure they have enough skills.

- Mrs Green: Give me some time, I am not sure if this is going to work. I do not want to take any risk with them. As I am sure you appreciate, I take care of my students.

- Lumberjack: Sure, give me a call in a few days, I’ll be in Aberdeen, coming back next week. And one more thing Miss Green, as you know, people have a sixth sense for the weaknesses of others, boldness and energy leave others no space to doubt and worry. If you go on, leave them no space for reflection, hide our deficiencies.

- Mrs Green: Are you teaching me kid? Return to your place, I’m not one of those students, I can push you and your friends around without mercy.

- Lumberjack: I was just joking Miss Green, we all know each other.

- Mrs Green: How ugly and unpleasant is the truth little boy, life is harsh. Space we can recover, time never.

- Lumberjack: I’ve read that quote...

- Mrs Green: Talk to you soon little boy.

*

Lumberjack baja las escaleras, se abrocha la chaqueta y sale a la calle con el gesto contrariado, sabía que los mejores alumnos que podrían encontrar estaban en esa escuela, pero convencer a Mrs Green estaba resultando más difícil de lo esperado.

Era el final del invierno y todavía hacía una temperatura que helaba, incluso partes de la acera estaban congeladas. La mañana había sido larga y llevábamos muchas horas despiertos.

*

- Lumberjack: Esa mujer sabe a lo que juega Virtual.

- Virtual: ¿Cómo ha ido?

- Lumberjack: No dice nada, solo pide tiempo.

- Virtual: Bueno eso está bien entonces, lo pensará y nos dirá que sí. Mejor dejarlo ya a un lado y no hacerle fuerte. Es lo de siempre, el deseo sin control haría que se nos viera débiles, unworthy, estúpidos.

- Midnight: Thai Dahlia…. ¿Hacemos una parada? Me estoy muriendo de hambre.

- Virtual: Good Idea, safe yourself time and energy Lumber, and let’s combine some thai herbs.

*

Nos sentamos en mesa de cuatro y ordenamos tres Spicy Mushroom Soup, con leche de coco.

No había música, sino dos televisores, y en ellos: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1xbuSg0DVQ

Estuvimos mirando fijamente a la pantalla durante algunos minutos, como si entendiéramos todo lo que allí se decía. Cuando pasas mucho tiempo con algunas personas, los silencios ya no son incómodos, sino necesarios. Habíamos estado fumando durante la mañana y esas imágenes resultaron un dulce para nuestro intelecto.

*

- Virtual: No estoy convencido

- Midnight: ¿Convencido de qué?

- Virtual: De la capacidad del ser humano en diferenciar si algo está escrito por un hombre o una mujer. Es decir, yo creo que sí que podría, pero el lenguaje es fácil de manipular para alguien entrenado.

*

Esto era algo muy típico en Virtual, sus conversaciones o pensamientos venían sin previa introducción o aparente relación con lo que nos rodeaba. De alguna forma me veía en él mismo, pues es algo que en muchas ocasiones me pasaba a mi también, aunque yo era un poco más cauto a la hora de expresar lo que venía a mi cabeza sin previa introducción. Con frecuencia iniciábamos conversaciones sin hilo, infinitas.

Mientras pensaba en lo que había dicho me fijé en una foto colgada en la pared. ¿Qué le llevaría al mítico KnightRider a tomarse una sopa en Thai Dahlia?

- Midnight: Hey, that’s Mr Hasselhoff!

- Young Waitress: Yes he is, a year ago. And that’s me!

- Midnight: Awesome! Yeah I see!  ‘is he nice?

- Young Waitress: Wauu, super nice, is The Hoff!

Y sí. Lumberjack lo hizo, imitando el ritmo con el chasquido de dedos de su mano derecha:

- Lumberjack: Jump in my car, I wanna take you home. Jump in my car, It’s too far walk on your own

Y ella le siguió:

- Young Waitress: No thank you Sir.

-  Lumberjack : Ah come on, I’m a trustworthy guy.

- Young Waitress: No thank you Sir.

- Lumberjack: Oh little girl I wouldn’t tell you no lies.

- Young Waitress: I know your game…

Todos nos reímos, la joven camarera de la foto nos sirvió nuestra sopa y antes de darse la vuelta nos hizo la pregunta más repetida.

- Young Waitress: Where do you come from guys?

- Virtual: What do you think?

- Young Waitress: Oh God, I don’t even know why I am asking, you all look so Spanish…

*

Cuando se fue, quise volver a la duda de Virtual y saqué un libro que tenía en mi bolsa. Empecé a leer en alto:

“El sonido de las campanadas de otro reloj más lejano, el del Prince of Wales, un pub situado al otro lado de la calle, sacudió el aire estancado de la tienda. Gordon hizo un esfuerzo, se enderezó en la silla y se guardó el paquete de cigarrillos en el bolsillo interior de la chaqueta. Se moría de ganas de fumar, pero solo le quedaban cuatro pitillos. Era miércoles y no dispondría de dinero hasta el viernes. La perspectiva de verse privado de tabaco aquella noche y durante todo el día siguiente se le antojaba un fastidio. Malhumorado de antemano por las horas sin fumar que le esperaban, se levantó y se encaminó hacia la puerta; su figura era pequeña y frágil, de huesos delicados y movimientos nerviosos y desabridos. A su chaqueta le faltaba el botón de en medio y el codo de la manga derecha estaba muy desgastado.”

*

- Midnight: Orwell, Hemingway, Bukowsky o cualquier mujer del mundo?

- Virtual: Solo dudo entre Orwell y Bukowsky.

- Lumberjack: Tales of Ordinary Madness, de Bukowsky.

- Midnight: Cerca, pero no.

- Virtual: ¿No será una escritora?

- Midnight: Tendréis que acertarlo

- Virtual: ¿Veis? Hasta lo evidente es incierto.

*

Después del café nos invitaron a un par de copas de Sato y decidimos ponernos en marcha. Cogimos nuestros abrigos del perchero, Lumberjack se hizo con el teléfono de la joven camarera y así volvimos a salir a la fría High Street. Nuestro siguiente destino era la University of Edinburgh, y llegábamos tarde.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dm7jEA3frY4

Midnight. The Scottish Tales. 2nd Phase - Winter