Although I've been preparing this blog for a conversion to English for quite some time, there are still those who refuse to accept reality. Such as Blegoo.
Blegoo is a nice guy. He thought I’ve decided to write in English as a protest to the lack of interaction on this blog or as a poorly disguised plot to squeeze out more comments. We talked a great deal in constiinta a2m – apparently, he thinks that there are people who read this blog or that by telling me this I’ll get such a boner that I’ll write with it in Ro.
I don’t wanna gild the lily around the bush (sic, biatch), but such “munca de lamurire” reminds me of an old song by Depeche Mode (also covered by A-HA). Check out the lyrics:
Fragile
Like a baby in your arms
Be gentle with me
I'd never willingly
Do you harmApologies
Are all you seem to get from me
But just like a child
You make me smile
When you care for me(Chorus)
And you know
It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us togetherIndependence
Is still important for us though (we realise)
It's easy to make
The stupid mistake
Of letting go (do you know what I mean)My weaknesses
You know each and every one (it frightens me)
But I need to drink
More than you seem to think
Before I'm anyone's [ho]And you know
It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us togetherKiss me goodbye
When I'm on my own
But you know that I'd
Rather be home
It's a question of lust
---
"A Question of Lust" as written by Martin Lee Gore
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
As you know, the song is about an older gay blogger (papa bear) who fell in love with what he thought was a younger blogger. He took a pederastic (i.e., love and pedagogy) interest in his writing. Meanwhile, the younger blogger did his thing.
In the anticlimactic climax, the older blogger pleads with the younger one to keep the past alive, but the young one just wants to go to America. Sadly, he was to die of TBC in the transatlantic boat, near the bottom, with the feces of the other monkeys cascading over his face.
He’s right about one thing though: I need to change the navigation and the template customizations; I just don’t care enough to do it yet.
The moral of the story is an old fart always knows better. Now go walk with the Sheppard.
LE: These thoughts on older men, fatherhood and fathers might also be enlightening.
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