—Daniel Galera, Barba Ensopada de Sangue.
We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That’s why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It’s a way of escaping thoughts about death. We like lists because we don’t want to die.
Once the song starts, it’s as though you have gotten drunk and you can’t help it. The room just starts spinning. But you wake up later and you’re fine; when I come out of the song, I’m out of it.
iii. Joan Didion, On Self-Respect @ We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order To Live:
To have that sense of one’s intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference.
v. El Chavo del Pina: