Me pasa a veces...

...que no me encuentro con ganas de hacer nada más allá de mis compromisos profesionales, académicos, etc. - por desgracia uno es pusilánime e hiperactivo y se obliga a un montón de cosas - y, tengo que reconocerlo, familiares y amistosos. Las tareas y obligaciones se van acumulando y uno queda con un amigo con el mismo ánimo con el que acude a la visita al dentista. Lo mismo le ocurre cuando se trata de poner algo negro sobre blanco en la pantalla del ordenador. Veinte días llevo sin entretenerme en ello aunque, seamos francos, nadie ha reparado en ello, o al menos no me lo ha hecho notar, como tampoco lo habrán hecho en mi escaso tono vital que comienza poco a poco a recuperarse, de lo que es muestra el presente intento de revitalización de este rincón. Tampoco es nada de lo que haya que alarmarse: es algo que pasa cada cierto tiempo, que se desvanece de la misma manera como se produce, aunque siempre hay un remedio: escuchar una y otra vez la canción "Paintwork" de mi grupo favorito, The Fall, una repetitiva pieza con insertos de pausas televisivas y cotidianas, y cuya letra, escrita por el tipo que se desgañita en la foto adjunta, transcribo a continuación (por cierto, "Paintwork" se encuentra en "This Nation's Saving Grace" que, como el lector habrá adivinado, sí, es uno de mis discos favoritos, de esos que me llevaría a una isla desierta, etc.):

We go two, twice all the way round those things
Two high ones, two low ones, yeah
Right man

Man stopped us at corner
He had a bloody nose
And then he opened his denim jacket
It was under his vest made out of tracing paper
Chest scars portrayed Aztec life in his horrible...

...formation really late. Main sequence stars were no good for making carbon in this way. Red giant stars...

...[surplayed].
Disfigured in a lady, tedious
Was over accountant's and on business
Then I woke up and I decided to recommence my diary
Then I read Paula Yates on vision mopeds
Then I found out we were not going to Italy
Later Mam said 'Those continentals are little monkeys'
And yesterday we has liver and sausage over

And sometimes they say 'Hey Mark you're spoiling all the paintwork'
And sometimes they say 'Your thumbprints are on the paintwork'

Distractors, post-doctors behind come in
Dressed in suits, grow talons
Everyone clenched plaits horror

And sometimes they say...

And sometimes I feel like saying
This is bloody Newark
Or some drive-in slap place
In Breda and in Cologne
With the shirt [on/off]
Sun in vicinity
As if I hadn't done 10 month's service
In the USA
On media guts
[It circles is] where I start

And sometimes they say...

And I think
If I'd wanted to live in Holland
And if I'd wanted to be lived in
I'd have packed up and pissed off
When I was 16
A [Swiss good ass/as/at] this lousy business
Was the last thing I was ever imagining

Hey Mark, why can't I live in England?

[The end of shoes, all warehouse shoe/you've got
Cheap new one, the target is too yahoo
And take over all the desparate
I'll take over discussion and
....humanely regular colours over...
...engineered oxidate zeppelin
Old world style, old man only juke box caught
All power jets on....spectacular facets]

And sometimes they say....
Hey, you're fucking up the paintwork

What is this thing they're so hard-assed about?

I thought I lived in England