(http://8tracks.com/ciaragrace/good-morning
surprisingly this playlist is more enjoyable when you're angry than happy)
sábado, 26 de julio de 2014
Ethan woke up to a shockingly bright and merry morning.
The grin plastered to his childish young adult face and the way he dances to some Michael Bublé jolly track while brushing his teeth and slipping fresh underwear on would have meatn he was the lucky protagonist of some lucky romantic movie about to live his trademark succesful day and meet the female, hot and perfectly lovable female star he'd eventually marry.
Of course, upon clsoe examination of his facebook biography, comments, pictures, and liked buzzfeed articles, one would ahve realized there was no way Ethan became such protagonist for 3 main reasons (which are only some from a lot which there's no reason to summarise in three facts other than the familiarity and aesthetics of the number):
1. He was not religious, nor a full-time employee.
2. He was not an artis, really successful part-tiemr or entrepreneur either.
3. He was a transexual, gay, HIV carrier.
The grin plastered to his childish young adult face and the way he dances to some Michael Bublé jolly track while brushing his teeth and slipping fresh underwear on would have meatn he was the lucky protagonist of some lucky romantic movie about to live his trademark succesful day and meet the female, hot and perfectly lovable female star he'd eventually marry.
Of course, upon clsoe examination of his facebook biography, comments, pictures, and liked buzzfeed articles, one would ahve realized there was no way Ethan became such protagonist for 3 main reasons (which are only some from a lot which there's no reason to summarise in three facts other than the familiarity and aesthetics of the number):
1. He was not religious, nor a full-time employee.
2. He was not an artis, really successful part-tiemr or entrepreneur either.
3. He was a transexual, gay, HIV carrier.
(Honestly upon writing the title with the littliest effort possible I could help but like it. - Ego perhaps? - anyway, perhaps it's worse that I liked it because I thought it could stand for "Sexualy Transmitted Hatred". Anyway.)
On a blockbuster, moving movie capable of making even the snobbiest hipster shed secretly like it with teary eyes, the following would happen:
She comes out of the health services building (not quite a hospital yet, but too big to bea clinic). She's devastated and takesa sit at the entrance, crying and not caring about how she looks to whom (but ocnveniently looking good enough for a a movie-actress' standards). a hot and wonderful stranger would be unable to walk by like all those not-well known extras did and stop to comfort her. Eventually a wonderful story of love and self-discovery would develop.
In reality, a could-be-considered devastated, nineteen year-old young woman walked out of a not-a-hospital-but-not-quite-a-clinic building, but she was not crying, and no stranger made a movie come to life.
Sitting at the entrance wall's dent she acidly went over the situation again:
Alejandro was dead. He had died of a condition that all medical-services oficers had considered not severe enough for close medical observation until it was so severe that it could not be cured even if he was put under severe medical observation (which he was, in time for a nurse to make a knowledgeable-person's remark about how he should ahve seeked medical attention upon the first few symptoms and a few desk-occupying people to offer tehir most sincere condolences to the relatives of someone they had never spared a glance at (relatives they had never spared a glance at either).
On a blockbuster, moving movie capable of making even the snobbiest hipster shed secretly like it with teary eyes, the following would happen:
She comes out of the health services building (not quite a hospital yet, but too big to bea clinic). She's devastated and takesa sit at the entrance, crying and not caring about how she looks to whom (but ocnveniently looking good enough for a a movie-actress' standards). a hot and wonderful stranger would be unable to walk by like all those not-well known extras did and stop to comfort her. Eventually a wonderful story of love and self-discovery would develop.
In reality, a could-be-considered devastated, nineteen year-old young woman walked out of a not-a-hospital-but-not-quite-a-clinic building, but she was not crying, and no stranger made a movie come to life.
Sitting at the entrance wall's dent she acidly went over the situation again:
Alejandro was dead. He had died of a condition that all medical-services oficers had considered not severe enough for close medical observation until it was so severe that it could not be cured even if he was put under severe medical observation (which he was, in time for a nurse to make a knowledgeable-person's remark about how he should ahve seeked medical attention upon the first few symptoms and a few desk-occupying people to offer tehir most sincere condolences to the relatives of someone they had never spared a glance at (relatives they had never spared a glance at either).
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