#but forming ideas into werds is hard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ursminor · 3 years ago

Text

WE DONT TALK ABOUT BRUNO GERMAN TRANSLATION THOUGHTS

I’m not gonna cover all of it, just the parts i found interesting. enjoy some incredibly niche content under the cut my friends

mirabel voice LETS GO LETS GO

Nur kein Wort über Bruno, no, no, no Nur kein Wort über Bruno

Not a word about Bruno, no no no Not a word about Bruno

They could have directly translated it into “Wir reden nicht über Bruno” (We dont talk about Bruno) but I like that they chose to go with this instead. “we dont talk about bruno” has seven syllables, in german it has eight. “Nur kein wort über bruno” has seven syllables, just like “we dont talk about bruno”. clever choice, and it still conveys the same message!!

Doch! an meinem Hochzeitstag Unserem Hochzeitstag

But! On my wedding day Our wedding day

“Doch” is the quintessencial german word and this is a great example of when and how to use it

Wir war'n im siebten Himmel und es war keine Wolke in Sicht Wolken, die wollten wir nicht

We were in seventh heaven and there wasn't a cloud in sight Clouds, we didn't want those

“im floating in seventh heaven” is a german turn of phrase that you use to describe being incredibly happy or in love! it refers to the different levels of heaven (i had to look this up i havent read the bible) and it describes feeling like youre so happy, its like youre in heaven. why the seventh? shrug. i love that they used it here since it fits nicely with the weather theme !! and wolken / wollten is just a nice little bit of alliteration :)

Bruno erscheint und er grinst in sich rein Ein Sturm

Bruno appears and grins to himself A storm

literally it translates to “he grins into himself”. it implies a kind of secretive, mischievous or private smile like you're amusing yourself, or like you're about to deliver a great punchline. i think this translation is great and really adds to describing Brunos character through the song!

Bruno kündigt Regen an Muss er denn jeden Stören

Bruno announces rain Does he have to bother everyone?

felix….so mean…….. i think they were trying to find a way to rhyme with felixs’ next line:

Abuela, hol den Regenschirm

Abuela, get the umbrella

guess it wasnt easy to find a word in the right context that will rhyme with “regenschirm”. i think they managed pretty well tho

……………………………………………….. now for dolores’ and camilos part!

Hey! Immer hatt' ich Angst vor Brunos Rascheln oder Stolpern Hinter jeder Wand hört' ich ihn tuscheln oder poltern Denk ich nur an ihn, hör ich, wie Sand zu Boden fällt

Hey! Always I was afraid of Brunos’ rustling or stumbling Behind every wall I heard him muttering or rumbling I only need to think of him, and I can hear the sound of sand falling to the floor

“poltern” is hard to describe but it means something like knocking stuff around- like a poltergeist? ;) “behind every wall” -nice that they managed to drop an extra hint that Bruno is literally inside the walls.

Es ist keine Frage, so 'ne Gabe kann einen foltern Aus seinen Prophezeiungen konnte keiner etwas folgern

There’s no question, such a gift can torture you Noone could comprehend his prophecies

:’) poor bruno.

All diese Visionen haben ihren Sinn verfehlt Wie man sich erzählt

All of these visions have missed their point That’s what they say

:’’’’)

'Ne Riesengestalt mit tanzenden Ratten Er ruft und bald verblasst alles zu Schatten Er nährt deinen Traum und zehrt von deinem grau'n

A gigantic form with dancing rats He calls and soon everything fades to shadows He feeds your dream and feasts on your fear/horror/terror

This is my favorite part. i just think it sounds cool. Ratten/Schatten is a cool rhyme. :) ………………………………………………….

Er sagte, mein Fisch stirbt bald, schon war er hin Er sagte, ich werde dick, nun seht, was ich bin Er sagte, stell dich auf 'ne Glatze ein, und was ist gescheh'n?

Dir wird es geh'n, wie von ihm vorhergeseh'n

He said, my fish will die soon, already he was done He said, I’m getting fat, now look what I am He said, get used to the idea of being bald, and what happened?

It will happen to you, in the way he foresees it i LOVE. how the dub actors delivered these lines

………………………………………………. not much to say about isabelas verse, they translated it pretty exactly! ……………………………………………….

Um, Bruno, ja, genau dieser Bruno Ich will alles wissen über Bruno Sagt mir die Wahrheit über Bruno

Um, Bruno, yes exactly that Bruno I want to know everything about Bruno Tell me the truth about Bruno

Isabela, dein Freund ist hier

Isabela, your “Friend” is here

for this line it would’ve been more…uuuuuuh colloquial? to say ‘isabela, dein freund ist da’, at least thats how i wouldve said it in casual conversation. im guessing they chose “hier” in order to match “here” from the original lyric since they sound the same and would create the same mouthshape. also in german there isnt really a word for boyfriend/girlfriend, usually you call them your friend. people have to assume from the context what kind of friend youre talking about.

Wie dumm von mir, das mit Bruno Wir reden nicht über Bruno Hätt' ich ihn nie erwähnt, diesen Bruno

How dumb of me, that with Bruno We don’t talk about Bruno Had I never mentioned him, that Bruno

so instead of making the chorus “we dont talk about bruno” they added it in here at the end. in english, this is where they would sing “not a word about bruno”! but thats my thoughts. do you agree? disagree? anything interest/stand out to you? pls share, i love comparing this stuff. thank you for reading! <3

#im literally in the middle of moving but i DID IT #we dont talk about bruno #nur kein wort über bruno #encanto #this was fun

80 notes · View notes

fablesrose · 4 years ago

Text

Of Kings and Shadows XXI

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Feels (hopefully this gives you feels😅)

Notes: Hey, guys sorry for skipping last week. Werds was hurd, so I decided to post this a day early. Enjoy!

On Wattpad –> Here

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint sat alone in the observatory area looking over the training area. The twins were doing their training exercises on their respective sides of the room. He was lost in his thoughts. Ones he desperately wanted a map for.

"Well look who it is." Natasha walked into the room from the door behind Clint.

Clint didn't acknowledge her presence; he just sat in silence, staring at the young pair below him minding their own business.

"Miss, Mr. Barton currently does not have his hearing aids in. He cannot hear you."

As Friday was talking a light blinked in Clint's line of vision. He perked up and looked over his shoulder to see Natasha walking around the chairs to sit by him. His eyes flicked from her mouth to her hands, waiting for her to talk.

[You're having a bad day] Natasha signed at him once she sat down and twisted to face him.

[I guess you could say that] Clint paused, not sure what else to say, but eventually continued on describing the thoughts and feelings swirling in his mind. He first jerked his head to the side towards the window facing the training area, [Doesn't that look familiar? A young agent in the training room, training with hardly any attention put on the world around her? All she wanted to do was succeed, Nat] Clint's head and eyes hung heavy with sorrow and regret.

Natasha, as quick on her toes and tongue as she was, had to think about what to say to him.

She didn't get to answer before Clint began to shake his head with an obviously forced smile and airy chuckle, [How long has it been? 5 years?]

[6 years 1 month 11 days] Natasha quickly signed to correct him.

There was a pause, Clint blinking at her, before he signed back, [You're having a bad day too.]

Natasha bit her lip, feeling a bit foolish. [I think everyone is having a bad day.]

Natasha would be right, as always. Throughout the compound, the team was dealing, somewhat poorly in some cases with the various feelings of loss. There were only two people who were blissfully unaware of the emotional turmoil rolling around the building and they were in the training room.

Luckily, most of them weren't alone. Even if they wanted to be.

It's both amazing and sometimes scary how in sync the Avengers are with each other. I'm not even sure who or what triggered it, but nearly the whole compound was feeling the absence of a particular young woman.

They could all be found in separate spaces, some started off alone, but didn't stay that way. Clint in the observational area with Natasha coming to join.

Tony was working in his workshop on some new groundbreaking invention when Rhodey knew he didn't want to be alone. Eventually, they flipped through some pictures. Rhodey didn't get to know her since he was so busy in the military at the time, but he knew how much she meant to Tony. To everyone.

Steve could be found in his room next to a desk. He's been picking up drawing again these days. He was particularly broody which caused Bucky's Steve sense to tingle. Bucky was sitting on the bed, watching Steve doodle, as Sam tried to push him off so he could sit down. Their bickering left Steve with a grateful chuckle. Bucky and Sam never got to meet her, but the way the team talked about her made them smile.

Many would have thought Bruce would be working himself to sleep in his lab, but even doctors need some fresh air. He was outside lying in the grassy field. He liked to watch the consistent repetition of Thor and Vision passing each other Mjolnir. Repetition was good for their minds. It was mechanical and didn't need much, if any, thinking. They seemed to forget sometimes that Vision remembers Y/n. He is so much different than Jarvis, after all.

And that accounts for everybody... except for one.

I don't wish you to think bad of him. Or to pity him either.

Instead, I want you to be proud. Loki has bonded with the team enough to be in sync with them. The team trusted him enough to leave him alone and knew when he needed to be.

He tended to wander around his room. His pride was large, but even he had to break down a little. Eventually, he couldn't take it any longer, so he opened a drawer and pulled out a little box stuck in the back corner. He rarely looked at it anymore, but he could never become even close to getting rid of it.

Lifting the lid, the shiny surface of an old smartphone looked back at him. He wiped the dust off with his pants and sat at the head of his bed. Before he turned it on he examined the corners and edges of the case. The color was worn, fading to the white plastic underneath.

He flipped it over a couple more times before turning it on and unlocking it. Y/n was smiling up at him, surrounded by the goofy faces of the Avengers. Loki was not included in the picture. He couldn't remember why anymore. Knowing himself, he probably rolled his eyes at the time.

He smiled a bit bitterly before opening the music app. He put it on shuffle and let the soft notes of the opening chords play out through the speakers. Listening to her music left him feeling like he was getting to know her better even though she wasn't there.

I thought I knew you well But all this time I could never tell I let you get away Haunts me every night and every day

He opened her gallery and started to scroll through the pictures. A lot of them were pictures of the team having fun. Even more pictures were of seemingly random objects, but no one could deny they looked cool or pretty. Loki smiled when he would get to a picture that had both of them in it together.

You were the only one The only friend that I counted on How could I watch you walk away I'd give anything to have you here today

He missed her. There weren't very many times they were together alone, but he finally thought that he was building friendships when Y/n disappeared, and hers was one he really wanted to cherish. He thought he was making things right. He wished she hadn't been taken or left, or whatever happened to her. Whatever the reason, Y/n was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

But now I stand alone with my pride And dream that you're still by my side

But that was yesterday I had the world in my hands But it's not the end of my world Just a slight change of plans

He sighed when he scrolled through all the pictures. He had his nostalgia. He knew there was nothing to be done. He has to move on, he has moved on, but a day of remembrance to keep everyone sober is appropriate. Maybe even necessary.

He quickly looked at the battery to see it was running a bit low. He pulled out a charger he got from Tony and plugged in the phone, shutting it off in the process. Loki made it so the phone could charge while still in the box and closed the lid. He placed the box gently back in its place in the drawer. He closed it softly with a sigh.

That was yesterday But today life goes on No more hiding in yesterday 'Cause yesterday's gone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arguably, the worst part of this whole ordeal was the deafening silence that I experienced. The natural noises of civilization, of people, of, anything living, in particular, was absent. I couldn't even hear the rumble of a machine, the beep of the camera (yes, there is still one in my room. Don't ask me, they're creeps), or the settling of the building.

The way I tried to overcome it was to use my vast knowledge of music to sing to myself. Some people have said that music was the only thing I used my head for, but I didn't really mind. Look what it's doing for me now, it's keeping me sane.

Music and just burying myself in the memories. I had to block out reality somehow, and my imagination was severely tainted with my inner turmoil, so I settled on the Avengers to bring a smile to my imaginary face. Ya know since I can't use my own.

Love, my love I gave it all Thought I saw the light When I heard you call Life that we both could share Has deserted me Left me in despair

Sometimes they made me sad. I took what I had for granted, now I have no idea if I'm even going to see them again, let alone get to talk to them, laugh with them, cry, smile, do anything. Sometimes I wish I would never see them again. It's obvious that I'm not going to break free of whatever mad science/voodoo they put on me. I really don't want to face them.

But now I stand alone with my pride Fighting back the tears I never let myself cry

I vaguely heard an alarm going off, it was different than any other alarm I'd heard. I knew it wasn't a fire alarm, I had heard that one plenty of times. I didn't pay much mind to it, there wasn't anything I could do anyway. The equivalent feeling of my heart clenching came to mind when I knew my daydreams wouldn't continue. It's been a rough... Forever.

But that was yesterday Love was torn from my hands But it's not the end of my world Just a little hard to understand

I told myself I was going to make it. I don't know for how much longer, but I was going to make it. I started to pay more attention to the groups of running soldiers, armed with weapons I had only caught glimpses of. Noxy suited up into her protective white jumpsuit. The sleeves only went to her elbows to show off her powered up black-gloved hands. I couldn't deny that I liked the combat boot style they gave me, but I didn't understand Henry's obsession with the color white.

It's been talked about how some of Henry's bases have been put under attack. Most were of rival organizations. You'd be surprised how many there are. From the looks of it whoever is attacking, out of all the bases available, had the luck to choose the one I was kept in.

Noxy walked the power walk of all power walks approaching the sounds of gunfire. The lights flickered and dimmed as she past. I felt the power within me surge as they did, the shadows powering me up. There was a group of agents just down the hall and they were under fire. Agents rushed by me as reinforcements. I couldn't see who the attackers were yet, but I could see debris flying from around the corner of the T in the hallway.

The agents had a strange mixture of fear and respect as Noxy approached. Another day at the office. They were dropping like flies and I could hear that the intruders were breaking down the defenses very quickly. The few agents who could, moved out of Noxy's way so she could stand in the middle of them and face the attackers.

That was yesterday But today life goes on You won't find me in yesterday's world Now yesterday's gone

She reached the center of the group and turned a perfect ninety degrees in the open hallway. Time seemed to slow down for a moment as I saw who was on the other side of the flashing lights that promised pain. I was only prepared for the physical pain of gunshots, but instead, I got the agony of heartbreak.

There was a moment where Noxy stood and assessed the situation. At that moment, so many things flashed across my mind as I soaked up what was in front of me. Familiar faces looked back at me and I had never felt more trapped. They froze when they looked at my face. All hands started to lower for a second, but only one.

The Avengers all had mirrored expression of horror, shock, disbelief. I wanted to cry, laugh, collapse. I wanted to do anything. Anything other than what my body showed. Noxy's gaze remained stoic as she maintained eye contact.

I don't know if it was something in the shots they gave me, or how wide they were stretching their eyes, but I could see the whites of them, even if they were at least 20 yards away. I tried to memorize the shades of blue and green looking back at me. I only wish I could have seen Tony's eyes, but he had his helmet on, the only reason I could tell he recognized me was the repulsors in his hands dimmed.

The moment came to an end all too quickly. Without batting an eye Noxy formed a plate of darkness and sent it to push the attackers back. She then hit specific points in the walls causing the ceiling to collapse. The way was blocked off completely.

Just like the physical walls of the building, it felt like the walls that were holding me away from control started to contract. For the first time in months I screamed; I cried out for any type of deliverance. I wanted to curl up into the fetal position with tears rolling down my face as I yelled until I was too tired to stay awake any longer.

I felt numb as Noxy walked away and the agents rushed around her to start the evacuation process.

For the years, I'm sure it's been years now, I've been stuck in this place I've relied on the happy memories to try and drown out the horrors I've seen. I didn't know for sure, but I had a feeling that it wasn't going to be like that anymore.

Goodbye yesterday Now it's over and done Still I hope somewhere deep in your heart Yesterday will live on

I just hoped I would be able to see anything other than betrayal painted on their faces.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrqPZFNrqCA

17 notes · View notes

zpomnicore · 8 years ago

Text

About this blog, life and other overrated bullshit (German dadrunter)

Thank you for wasting your time by following shitty musicblogs like this and grabbing dirty badmade music you don´t want to listen anymore tommorrow and never again. I do the same. Sometimes. Now here comes the surprising “i am getting older and have 20 new children and police says i should stop my drugabuse a bit because it makes me buying sexy nuclear weapons in the street instead of looking for a job, wanking and bring the trash out to the spam folder” line. Done. Another: I am talking like an average Americanised middleclass idiot yet, now. Shit. Lets stop this. But how? Uhm... don´t know. Some other ideas and preferences:

1. I posted too much average or overrated bullshit here the last time. This time shall be over now. Quantity is also overrated. You know the big names of the game, yet, now. If not, skroll the blogarchieve and just listen to the 1300 audios I´ve posted, then you will know. Or ask an expert.

2. I want to make (ad) stickers for this blog in June. If you´re interested, just write a mail to horrorrrgrrrl at web dot de (guess there is not so much interest so I can send you a package with some stickers for free if you give your postal adress, but I don´t promise for free, but that the first 10 people will get a free package, that would be yet 22% of my followers [incl. bots and other strange beeings with sexual explicit material blogs following this blog]). In worst case I will tell you “sorry, give cash or stay stickerless.”

3. Speedcore becomes fashion. Its obvious. Look at all these suckers now uploading shitty fuckshit with commercial mellowlines and sexy photos and japanese sweet trendmanga shit and how much clicks some sets have on Youtube and that DJs do speedcoresets at Red Bull sponsored DJ-Competitions and so on. All these “MTV speedcore fashionshow” jokes are lapsed.

You needn´t be a culture philosopher to see that it was very probable this will happen. Anyhow, relax, sit down and enjoy watching how (underground) history repeats, watch hysterical, young people selling their souls for nothing, watch fucked up old people selling their souls and names for a little peace of the shitty pink cake, watch how another subculture will go down, it hadn´t that much to offer and “speedcore against racism” didn´t include “against sexism”, “against dumbism” and/or “against staying a drugged narrow-minded asshole all life long”. This was always obvious. +You are not the hardest, sickest and most respected undergroundperson in the world anymore, if you wear a “speedcore-something” T-Shirt now. And if you wear it on your marriage, you will stay a fucked up fool. Yet because marrying is for fucking pussies and you can´t conceal this. Marriage is in general conservative bullshit and an important column of a fucked up repressive system that eats your soul as the sellout of subcultures, cultural appropriatation, ignoring sexism and other forms of hierachy in one´s (sub-)culture and Red Bull DJ-Contests are. And so on. (Much to say, nothing to add).

Ways to deal with that:

- Get your piece of cake! Make a facebookaccount that contains “speedcore” or shitty folders on Soundcloud, connect it with stuff or events you want to sell or design longboards with shitty skullframed speedcorelogos (don´t forget to add a weapon!) and add 20000 users whos name contains also “speedcore” and/or ”hakkuh”, “noisekick”, “komprex” or “terror”. If you want more clicks on SC, make some “Early speedcore” sets containing the obvious tracks of DOA, Amiga shock force and so on.

- Go Extratone and tell everyone (really everyone) that you are still harder than em all and that you listened to speedcore long time ago. But now its to slow for you. Maybe some will pay attention and suck your genital for this extra hardness. Extratone is part of the game, but some hillbillies & noobs will always think its not. Buy extratone stocks instead of speedcore stocks. Wear an Extratone shirt at your boyfriends marriage. Thats cute.

- Ignore the trend. Well these people at the bar of your party sure aren´t hippsters or just stupid little teenies who try to look hard, its totally cool underground people who know what the shit is like, they will share love with you, they will support you and add fancy filters before uploading the photos of your drugged dancemoves on instagramm they´ll share with thousands of nice looking bots and people, The scene was always full of assholes and fuckheads, so where is the difference? Lets talk about this in some years, again.

- Quit with music! Do sports, get religious or study creative customer based speedcore management on your local university after having saved enough money and done all the other shit, enhancement drugs are healthier than partydrugs some people say.

- Fight the trend! Come to the next party with a baseballbat and destroy all cars and people with Noisekick, Komprex, P.O.S. (Where would you draw the line?) or “Terror Worldwide” T-Shirts or logos, sell ratpoison-interlarded speed and pills (the “true people” are used that, they wont die, only the posers will die!), start pogo each 5 minutes or each Cannibal Corpse-Sample (same), hack accounts of all people using masks, tits and other bullshit in their profiles to “gain” anything, the only thing they gain is death!!!! Make some “dos and don´ts videos, texts and vlogs about prohibited and non prohibited artists, samples, tracknames, logo contents and colours you may wear on a party or on your avatar and look for some sheeps who will obey to all you will preach them. Your sect is the only way to keep the true spirit alive!

-Cry! If this doesn´t help, kill yourself! All our lives, values and identities were based on the power of true speedcore (speedcore will never die, life begins with speedcore and so on...), so how can you deal with the fact that all you believed in and lived for is now rotting away to an average piece of shit? Speedcore was so clean once (you could eat from the dancefloor), it was so beautiful once, so strong and cool and making life worthful, but now they will soon sell shirts with a gameboy that has the word “speedcore”written instead of “Tetris” on the frame on H&M, Zalando and Pimkies, also for kids in 152 and 164, Satan will not help you because he´s the new manager of H&M men´s world, so all you believed in is ridiculous now. You could believe in yourself, but you are just a slave to the rhythm and rhythm is a dancer and your master is now a servant, thank god there´s enough other authorities and illusions left to believe in. Not? Hm...

If you need a better solution call the police or ambulance. My good humour has also gone during the last time.

4. Nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scheiße, ich hab garkein Bock jetzt das alles nochmal auf deutsch zu übersetzen. Aber trotzdem. Blogarbeit ist pflicht und ein deutsche Tugend. Ich mag deutsche Tugenden nicht. Das alles motiviert mich nicht. Aber ich will auch nicht jetzt hochskrollen und den Betreff ändern, mein Laptop ist so virenverseucht, daß er beim hochskrollen möglicherweise abscheißt. Also los:

Danke, daß ihr eure Zeit damit verschwendet, beschissenen Musikblogs wie diesem und schlecht gemachter Musik zu folgen. Ich mache das auch. Manchmal. Auf deutsch klingt das alles noch kackiger als auf englisch.

Jetzt kommt eine überraschende “Ich bin älter geworden, habe 20 Kinder mehr und die Bullen sagen, daß ich meinen Drogenmissbrauch redizieren soll, weil ich drauf immer in sexy-Atomwaffen-Straßenhandel verwickelt werde, statt nach einem Job zu gucken, zu onanieren und den Müll raus in den Spamordner zu bringen” Zeile. So, fertig. Noch eine: Ich red inzwischen wie irgendein amerikanisierter Durchschnittsvollidiot (auch als Affin kann man Frack tragen). Scheiße, Leute. Das muss aufhören. Aber wie? KP. Ein paar Ideen und (...äh, wie bersetz ich “Preferences”? Das war eh schon falsch, das Wort, aber das andere Wort hatte ich vergessen):

1. In letzter Zeit hab ich viel zu viel durchschnittlichen Bullshit und Zeug, das zuviel Beachtung bekommt, gepostet. Die Zeit ist ab jetzt vorbei (ab diesem Post). Masse wird überschätzt. Ihr kennt jetzt die großen Namen im Game. Wenn nicht, hört einfach nochmal die 1300 Posts durch, dann wisst ihr sie. Oder fragt einen Experten.

2. Ich mach Sticker für diesen Blog. bei Interesse einfach mal an horrorrrgrrrl ätt web de schreiben. Rest mit Übersetzerin (das wird voll geil jetzt):

Wenn Sie interessiert sind, einfach eine Mail an Web horrorrrgrrrl Schreiben dot de (denke, es ist nicht so viel Interesse, so kann ich Ihnen ein Paket mit einigen Aufklebern senden kostenlos wenn sie ihre Anschrift geben, aber ich habe nicht kostenlos, aber die ersten 10 Leute werden nach dieser Blog] erhalten Sie gratis ein Paket, das wäre noch 22% meiner Jünger werden [inkl. Bots und andere seltsame Mensch mit sexuellen explizites Material Blogs). Im schlimmsten Fall Ich werde Ihnen sagen, "es tut uns leid, Bargeld oder Aufenthalt stickerless geben."

3. Speedcore wird Mode. Seine Hand. An alle diese Sauger jetzt hochladen shitty Fuckshit mit kommerziellen Mellowlines und sexy Fotos und japanische Süße trendmanga Scheiße aussehen und wie viel Klicks einige Sätze haben auf Youtube und die DJs tun speedcoresets bei Red Bull dj-Wettbewerben gefördert und so weiter. Alle diese "MTV speedcore Fashionshow "Witze sind nichtig.

Sie brauchen nicht eine Kultur Philosoph sein, um zu sehen, dass es sehr wahrscheinlich war dies geschehen wird. Jedenfalls, entspannen Sie sich und genießen Sie, wie (U-Bahn) Geschichte wiederholt, beobachten Sie hysterisch, junge Menschen, die ihre Seelen für nichts achten, Abgefuckte alte Menschen ihre Seelen und Namen verkaufen für ein wenig Frieden der shitty rosa Kuchen, beobachten, wie eine andere Subkultur nach unten gehen wird, hatte es nicht so viel zu bieten und "speedcore gegen Rassismus" nicht "gegen Sexismus", "Gegen dumbism" und/oder "gegen eine Droge beigemischt Engstirnigen alles Leben Arschloch long". Dies war immer auf der Hand. Sie sind nicht der härteste, Krankste und angesehensten undergroundperson in der Welt mehr, wenn Sie eine "speedcore Verschleiß-etwas" T-Shirt. Und wenn du es tragen auf ihre Ehe, werden Sie eine abgefuckte Narr bleiben. Doch weil das Heiraten ist für fucking pussy und Sie können dies nicht verbergen. Die Ehe ist in der Regel konservativ Bullshit und eine wichtige Säule einer Abgefuckte repressiven System, dass Ihre Seele frisst wie den Ausverkauf von Subkulturen, kulturelle appropriatation, ignorieren, Sexismus und anderen Formen der Hierachie in der (Sub-) Kultur und Red Bull DJ-Wettbewerbe sind. Und so weiter. (viel zu sagen, nichts hinzuzufügen).

Weisen Sie das beschäftigen:

- Holen Sie sich Ihr Stück vom Kuchen! Machen Sie einen facebookaccount, enthält "speedcore" im Namen oder shitty Ordner auf Soundcloud, mit Material oder Veranstaltungen Sie wollen verkaufen oder longboards Design mit shitty verbinden skullframed speedcorelogos (vergessen Sie nicht, eine Waffe hinzuzufügen!) und 20000 Benutzer whos Name hinzufügen enthält auch "speedcore" und/oder "hakkuh", "noisekick", "komprex" oder "Terror". Wenn Sie mehr Klicks auf Sc möchten, stellen einige "Frühe speedcore" Datensätze, die offensichtliche Spuren von DOA, Amiga Schock tritt und so weiter.

- Gehen Sie Extratone und erklärt jeder (wirklich jeder), dass Sie noch härter sind als Em All und, dass Sie zugehört längst Speedcore. Aber jetzt sein für Sie zu verlangsamen. Vielleicht werden einige Aufmerksamkeit und Ihre genitalen für diese zusätzliche Härte saugen. Extratone ist Teil des Spiels, aber einige Hinterwäldler & noobs wird immer der Meinung sein nicht. Extratone Aktien kaufen, anstatt speedcore Bestände. Eine extratone Shirt an Ihre Freunde, ehe tragen. Das ist niedlich.

- Den Trend zu ignorieren. Auch diese Menschen an der Bar Ihrer Feier sicher nicht Hippsters sind oder einfach nur dumme kleine Teenies, die versuchen, schwer zu suchen, seine total cool u-Menschen, die wissen, was die Scheiße ist wie, Sie werden mit ihnen Liebe teilhaben, werden Sie sie unterstützen und Fancy Filter hinzufügen, bevor Sie mit dem Hochladen der Fotos von euren betäubten dancemoves auf instagramm sie mit Tausenden von gut aussehende Bots und Menschen teilen, die Szene war immer voller Arschlöcher und fuckheads, also wo ist der Unterschied? Lassen Sie uns darüber sprechen diese in einigen Jahren wieder.

- Beenden Sie mit Musik! Sport tun, erhalten Sie religiöse oder kreative Kunden speedcore Management auf Ihrem lokalen Universität studium nachdem Sie genug Geld und alle anderen scheiße gemacht gespeichert, Verbesserung Drogen sind gesünder als partydrugs einige Leute sagen.

- Zerstören Sie Der Trend! Kommen Sie auf die nächste Party mit einem baseballbat und alle Autos und Menschen mit Noisekick, komprex, P.O.S.-ZERSTÖREN (Wo würdest Du die Linie zeichnen?) oder "Terror Weltweit" T-Shirts oder Logos, Ratpoison verkaufen - blödsinnige Geschwindigkeit und Pillen (die "wahren Menschen" verwendet werden, dass Sie nicht sterben, nur die Poser wird sterben!), start Pogo jede 5 Minuten oder jede Cannibal Corpse-Sample (Gleichen), hack Konten aller Personen, die Masken, Titten und anderen Bullshit in ihren Profilen zu profitieren." "Alles, das Einzige, was Sie gewinnen, ist der Tod!!!!!!! Einige "Dos und Don'ts, Videos, Texte und Vlogs über verboten und nicht verboten Künstler, Muster, tracknames, logo Inhalt und Farben können Sie auf einer Party oder auf deinen Avatar tragen und für einige Schafe, die alle werden sie predigen sie gehorchen aussehen wird. Ihre Sekte ist der einzige Weg, der wahre Geist lebendig zu halten!

-Heule! Wenn das nicht hilft, sich selbst töten! Unser aller Leben, Werte und Identitäten wurden auf der Grundlage der Macht der wahren speedcore (speedcore wird nie sterben, Leben beginnt mit speedcore und so weiter…), so wie können Sie mit der Tatsache, dass alle, die Sie geglaubt und lebte jetzt weg ist Fäulnis auf durchschnittlich Stück Scheiße? Speedcore so einmal sauber war (man konnte von der Tanzfläche essen), es war so schön, so stark und cool und kostbare, aber jetzt werden sie bald T-Shirts mit einem Gameboy, hat sich das Wort "speedcore" geschrieben statt "Tetris" auf dem Rahmen auf h&m, Zalando und pimkies Verkaufen, auch für Kinder in 152 und 164, Satan wird Ihnen nicht helfen, weil er der neue Manager von H&M für Männer Welt, also ist alles, was Sie glaubten an jetzt lächerlich ist. Man könnte glauben Sie an sich selbst, aber sie sind nur ein Sklave der Rhythmus und der Rhythmus ist ein Tänzer und dein Meister ist jetzt ein Knecht, Gott sei Dank, es gibt genügend andere Behörden und Illusionen Links zu glauben. Nicht? Hm…Wenn Du eine bessere Lösung benötigen, die Polizei oder Krankenwagen rufen. Mein guter Humor hat auch in der letzten Zeit gegangen

.4. Nichts.

2 notes · View notes