2 again surprised me. Today I was watching an excellent documentary made by Spanish television, entitled "Frenzy in the big city (La Movida Madrilena)." Have discussed about almost all the groups that emerged in the move, the television programs which were made known, the curiosity aroused in foreign bands, who kept visiting our country and to act, the different urban tribes that lived more or less in harmony, of fanzines that proliferated to show the work of artists, photographers, illustrators, etc.. Definitively, a review of the most fruitful decade of our country and I consider myself a participant, since my 15 years, I kept my mind open to all these Stimulus.
Conozco a alguien que siempre se apunta a lo que he hecho o quiero hacer, a lo que dije o voy a decir, a lo que siento o sentiré, a lo que he vivido o viviré, a lo que me gusta o me gustará. Se apropia siempre de mis cosas para hacerlas suyas, pero lo que viví en la movida madrileña no me lo podrá quitar nunca, más que nada, porque cuando yo iba a conciertos de los pegamoides o de parálisis permanente, y me rapaba el pelo al uno o me lo ponía de punta con zumo de limón, ella llevaba falda de cuadros para ir al colegio. Mis recuerdos de esos años, son míos querida, y aunque te apropies de mis ideas, no te puedes apropiar de mis vivencias. Ahí queda eso.
I know someone who always points to what I have done or want to do, to what I said or I'll say, or feel what I feel, what I have lived or live, what I like or hate. Always appropriates things to make my own, but what I experienced in the Madrid scene can´t be removed, more than anything, because when I went to concerts of Pegamoides or permanent paralysis, and I shaved the hair to 1 or put me at odds with lemon juice, she wore a square skit to go to school. My memories of those years are mine dear, and even if you take ownership of my ideas, you can not appropriated from my experiences. There you have it.
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