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Hold me
But I don’t recommend that you adore me
If you do, don’t say I didn’t warn you
Trust me, I know how to start a fire from a flame
Oh, I always
Leave before the curtain hits the floorboard
When I hear you talking like you know me
You don’t know me
You don’t know me
Wish that I could not go crazy
Wish that I could make you hate me
Maybe I should change my name and run
So I don’t have to hold on
Maybe you and I would make it
It ain’t the kind of risk I’m taking
Maybe I should change my name and run, run, run
So I don’t have to hold on
Hold on
Hold on
I’m only
Human and I get a little lonely
But I don’t wanna hit you while I’m falling
While I’m falling
While I’m falling
Wish that I could not go crazy
Wish that I could make you hate me
Maybe I should change my name and run
So I don’t have to hold on
Maybe you and I would make it
It ain’t the kind of risk I’m taking
Maybe I should change my name and run, run, run
So I don’t have to hold on
Hold on
Hold on
Wish that I could not go crazy
Wish that I could make you hate me
Maybe I should change my name and run
So I don’t have to hold on
Maybe you and I would make it
It ain’t the kind of risk I’m taking
Maybe I should change my name and run, run, run
So I don’t have to hold on
Hold on
Hold on
The man who said “I’d rather be lucky than good” saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It’s scary to think so much is out of one’s control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net and for a split second it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck it goes forward and you win. Or maybe it doesn’t and you lose.
"Aquel que dijo, más vale tener suerte que talento, conocía la esencia de la vida... La gente tiene miedo a reconocer que gran parte de la vida depende de la suerte. Asusta pensar cuantas cosas se escapan a nuestro control... En un partido hay momentos en que la pelota golpea el borde de la red y en una fracción de segundo puede seguir hacia adelante o caer hacia atrás... Con un poco de suerte seguirá hacia adelante y ganas, o no lo hace y pierdes..."
Two years he walks the earth. No phone, no pool, no pets, no cigarettes. Ultimate freedom. An extremist. An aesthetic voyager whose home is the road. Escaped from Atlanta. Thou shalt not return, 'cause "the West is the best." And now after two rambling years comes the final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage. Ten days and nights of freight trains and hitchhiking bring him to the Great White North. No longer to be poisoned by civilization he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become lost in the wild.
--Alexander Supertramp, May 1992
A landscape photo in Svalbard.
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