carracuca

Según Wikipedia, "nombre propio referido en la locución verbal para designar a alguien que vive una situación angustiosa o comprometida". A mí me gustaba cómo sonaba.

A usted le pasa lo mismo y lo entiendo muy bien. En su país no le quieren porque es como si usted fuera para ellos jorobado y epiléptico. No se apure. Le va a pasar lo que a mí: aquí me quieren todos.

Juan Soto Ivars, sobre los refugiados, en El Confidencial

Anuncios

 

El trabajo de Proactiva sale en el documental To Kyma: rescate en el mar Egeo (que hay que ver). También en este reportaje y este fotorreportaje de EL PAÍS.

– Y si se encontrase al Papa, ¿qué le pediría?

– Pues… una caja con comida. Cereales, latas, vegetales, frijoles, arroz, mantequilla de cacahuete y… ¡mermelada!

– ¿No pediría carne?

– ¿Se puede?

Los olvidados también rezan

tumblr_o2jqnbVqbN1rufl9ro1_1280

Sammy Slabbinck

“Maybe this whole situation will just sort itself out”

 

banksy-3.jpg

Banksy at the The Jungle Refugee Camp in Calais 

um corpo em chamas
rolando pela escada
de incêndio do meu prédio
era você
vírgula
meu bem
vírgula
era você
interrogação

Bruna Beber

tumblr_nx7gfgH9s71ravbodo1_1280

via

Ela sabe que morrerá sozinha, mas a ideia de ficar a cheirar mal aos vizinhos inquieta-a.

Já foi na semana passada, o nosso encontro. Ainda não parei de pensar nele. No dia em que restar uma só diferença entre o campo e a cidade, será essa: no campo, haverá sempre alguém para ficar com a chave de um vizinho que vai morrer só.

Morte, de Joel Neto, via Moisés.

 

Lykke Li & Kleerup – Until we bleed

(And if Cupid’s got a gun
Then he’s shootin’)

 

2016

[…] Happy Lost Searching Tender New Year to your tall tall heart.

Andrea Gibson

tumblr_nvky5mn9rt1qza249o1_500.jpg

via fyvm

—¿Te acuerdas de esa canción que dice: “Si un cuerpo coge a otro cuerpo cuando van entre el centeno”? Me gustaría…

—Es: “Si un cuerpo encuentra a otro cuerpo cuando van entre el centeno” —dijo Phoebe—. Y es un poema. Un poema de Robert Burns.

Uno empuja al otro, en el blog de Laura Ferrero

tumblr_nxq0u7CB7t1qd9dz2o1_1280.jpg

Courtney Brown

La vie, c’est comme une dent
D’abord on y a pas pensé
On s’est contenté de mâcher
Et puis ça se gâte soudain
Ça vous fait mal, et on y tient
Et on la soigne et les soucis
Et pour qu’on soit vraiment guéri
Il faut vous l’arracher, la vie

Boris Vian

tumblr_nxop3hBR7s1r93k54o1_500.jpg

Steven Clouse 

You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female’.

Diana Vreeland

 

112315MicC7641Web-1.jpg

The Sartorialist

Si supieras

que el río no es de agua
y no trae barcos
ni maderos,
sólo pequeñas algas
crecidas en el pecho
de hombres dormidos.

Si supieras que ese río corre
y que es como nosotros,
o como todo lo que tarde o temprano
tiene que hundirse en la tierra.

Tú no sabes,
pero yo alguna vez lo he visto
hace parte de las cosas
que cuando se están yendo
parece que se quedan.

Andrea Cote

il_570xN.879710828_ooye

“Creo en dos cosas: las fechas de entrega y el libro de estilo de AP”

New favourite shop, OhNewsroom

Did the media ignore the Beirut bombings? Or did readers?

It doesn’t matter what art we put with this or if it’s at the top of the homepage,” he said. “Nobody is going to read this.”

He was right. No matter how much we promoted the story, no matter how many times and ways we put it in front of readers, they were not interested.

I refused to believe that the editor had been right, and instead I blamed myself — my story must have been boring or poorly headlined, or the lede was too dry. Or maybe it was just that this was Baghdad, and readers had in the preceding months not come to appreciate the city’s brief calm — another way I might have failed them.

I still hold out hope that it’s possible to get readers interested. And I have been trying over and over in the five years since to get readers engaged with these stories. Incidents of mass violence in the world are, I believe, desperately important for readers to know. Not just so that readers can offer sympathy to the victims, but so that they may better understand what’s happening in the world and thus can better and more actively participate in whatever role they have to play as voters and global citizens. But unless the victims are either children or Christian, I have never really succeeded in getting readers to care about such bombings that happen outside of the Western world.

[…]

Max Fisher, Vox

G63A7584copy+copy

“I’ve recently turned 60 and I can honestly say that life gets better with each and everyday.”

Sarah Jane Adams, Budva, Montenegro

Advanced Style

Me obsesionan los títulos así que me compré This Is How You Lose Her, de Junot Díaz. Y, en la primera página, este poema:

Okay, we didn’t work, and all
memories to tell you the truth aren’t good.
But sometimes there were good times.
Love was good. I loved your crooked sleep
beside me and never dreamed afraid.

There should be stars for great wars
like ours

(Sandra Cisneros)

Lo releo varias veces los días siguientes. Hoy lo encontré completo. La continuación es:

There ought to be awards
and plenty of champagne for the survivors.

After all the years of degradations,
the several holidays of failure,
there should be something
to commemorate the pain.

Someday we’ll forget that great Brazil disaster.
Till then, Richard, I wish you well.
I wish you love affairs and plenty of hot water,
and women kinder than I treated you.
I forget the reason, but I loved you once,
remember?