How Old Is Kate From Kates Playground

HIROSHIMA, MON AMOUR (1). Forget-me-you forget, forget-we IMPOSSIBLE

HIROSHIMA MON AMOUR (Alain Resnais - Marguerite Duras, 1959

I met you.


I remember you.

Who are you?

You kill me.

You make me do good.

How I'd suspected that this city was made to the size of love?

How I'd suspected that you were made to fit my body well?

I like you. What event. I like you.

How slow suddenly.

How sweet.

You can not know.

You kill me.

You make me do good.

You kill me.

You make me feel good.

I have time.

I beg you.

Devour me.

Distorts me up the ugliness.

Why not you?

Why not you in this city and this night like any other point of being mistaken?

I beg you ...

reiterar. Que vergüenza, bicefalita that you tan pronto Emociones Aún cuando el Puñal asoma en tu muslo. Por qué No Piensa En forgive or kill, in godliness rip with the slap ("Violence does not help" - you say). Again the old poem and the same images, the rhythm almost idiot emotions. The dream and the illusion of the body: Comment je me serais fait doutée your Étais à la même taille de mon corps? The illusion of the soul. The same song and it mocks the wounded city (Hiroshima, Nevers). Torn city, city rapa soul blade, dissolved into memory oblivion. Love, death, kill, deform the beauty in the passion to ugliness. Polish travel. I already said. Why repeat. Why be stupid again?. The same wheel, same old Miss sensitivity, the same accompaniment to ejaculation. Justified in 1959, feel and suffer. Nazi soldier and shaved love the taste of your blood. Same thing. What simple simple ... what my soul. There was born in 1959. Nevers. La ville de Nevers, on the right bank of the Loire River. Hiroshima and deformed children. The bell deaf Hiroshima.

I want to visit Nevers. Travel to be a foreigner (almost an idiot in the community)

I want to walk the streets to see the death of the soldier alemán.Ser the soldier in the river dock.

say that violence solves nothing.

I visit Nevers, Hiroshima road. Cities

that mock the futility of violence.

Love consumes us to the ugliness.

deformation

the laideur jusqu'à moi.

Again, again impossible.

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