Narcissus and Echo. Never Together, Never Apart
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Scene 1: I want the experience of the butterfly.
The film is in Spanish with subtitles.
A beautiful hotel room decorated in blue and white. Night.
Narcissus is lying in bed reading his journal:
"Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are the eternity and you are the mirror." — Khalil Gibran (The Prophet)
I am the Beauty. I am gazing at myself in a mirror. I am the Eternity. I am gazing at myself in a mirror. I am the mirror. I am myself gazing at myself in myself. No wonder, I see nothing but nightmares every night. Life feels like eternity and I stopped understanding what is happening to me long time ago. Did I ever understand who I was? What and who am I looking for? What monster is writing my story? What is better: to be consigned to eternity or to oblivion?
I should call my journal “Nightmares of a Greek God” and publish it. Am I a God? Maybe self-appointed. Who cares? Nobody believes in Greek Gods anymore and they are not too pleased with it. I wish to go Greek… Well, maybe one day, if my author will be so inclined. The location is good, the sea, the flowers, the butterflies… The butterflies?
Oh, the beauty!
[Recites]
I embrace emerging experience.
I participate in discovery.
I am a butterfly.
I am not a butterfly collector.
I want the experience of the butterfly.
~ William Stafford
Scene 2: Awakenings.
The same room. Morning. Sunny, beautiful morning.
Narcissus awakens. He notices that there is someone else in his bed. It is a beautiful young woman. On her back there is a butterfly shadow.
[Narcissus is catching a moment and mutters to himself addressing his Creator/author:
“I’ve had enough of your games! I’ll get you for this!!!”]
Then turns into his usual self.
- Who are you, gorgeous?
- …gorgeous.
- Thank you, love, I know. Do I know you?
- …you..
- My name is Narcissus. I thought that one of us should know what…
- …what…
- What? What? What? You sound just like my Echo.
- Echo?
- Never mind. Are you awake, love? Not yet?
- …not yet…
- Maybe it will be easier to talk after we have …mmm... How about a cup of coffee?
- …coffee...
- My specialty is coffee “Madame Butterfly”…
- Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! [screams]
- Easy, woman, don’t scream!!!
- …cream…
- Ok, cream it is, I will go make it.
- …make it…
Narcissus leaves the room thinking to himself “Where did she come from? Did I forget to lock the door?”
He comes back with two cups of coffee. One of them has a butterfly shape in the center. He puts the cups on the table and notices that the entrance door is slightly open.
A woman comes through the door. Narcissus has never seen her before, not that he can remember. He thinks to himself “Nemesis again!!! What fresh hell is this?! What have I done this time?”
The woman has a determined look on her face.
Narcissus stands transfixed. She comes up close enough, pulls out a gun and with the word “Traitor!” shoots Narcissus.
[Note: In English translation, the word would be “Cheater!”, but because the film is in Spanish the word is “Traicionero”]
“Traicionero!”,
“Traicionero!”,
“Traicionero!”,
“Traicionero!” – the word keeps echoing into another scene.
Scene 3: Beauty drives us to despair.
Sunny day, beautiful garden full of roses, flowers, somewhere close to the seaside. The breeze can be felt.
Narcissus awakens. Everything seems to be too big. Flowers are huge, aromas are intoxicating. It is a totally different world. He takes off… and lands on another flower. He is a butterfly. He does not remember anything except for one word.
“Echo, echo, echo…” I must find “Echo”. What is Echo? Who is Echo?
He hears his wings flutter. Wings create some turbulence. There are so many sounds and most of them unfamiliar. He seems to fly without direction, but he feels that he is on a mission to find… Echo.
From a nearby house, he hears a divine melody, then a voice starting to sing...
Is Echo there? Is it Echo singing?
The Song: Treacherous Butterfly (Mariposa Traicionera)
You are like a butterfly
You fly and land from mouth to mouth
Easily and lightly to those who entice you
I am a rat in your rat trap
A trap that doesn't kill, but doesn’t release
I live, dying as your prisoner
Treacherous butterfly,
The wind carries everything away
Butterfly, I won't go back with you
Oh, butterfly of love
My butterfly of love
I won't go back with you
Oh, butterfly of love
My butterfly of love
Never again will I be close to you
Fly away love, fly away pain
And don't return to my side
Go from flower to flower
Seducing with your pistils
And fly close to the sun
So that you feel that which is pain
Oh, woman how you cause damage
The minutes passed as if they were years
Watch this jealousy kill me
OH, woman how easy you are
Open your wings, your colored thighs,
Where you put your love
Treacherous Butterfly
The wind carries everything away
Butterfly, I won't go back
Oh, butterfly of love, my butterfly of love
I won't go back to you
Oh, butterfly of love, my butterfly of love
Never again will I be close to you
Fly away love, fly away pain
I wish you luck in your life
Oh, oh, oh, oh pain
I'll cry an entire river
Oh, oh, oh, oh love
Go fly away!
Narcissus knows this song too well; it pains him to listen to it.
Scene 4: HP writers get together.
A beautiful country house.
[Decide on the location. Which country? Consider cost.
Peru? Mexico? Italy? Greece? Argentina?]
Miguel Alvarez is sitting in his house, playing piano and singing “Mariposa Traicionera”. This is his favourite song, his eyes are closed. He has a beautiful voice.
Miguel is a controversial character. Nobody knows his past, but there are a lot of speculations and rumors. It is known that he is a voracious reader, loves dogs. He has his own café. But what he does best is playing piano and singing.
Every time Miguel starts playing the inhabitants of the village come and stand transfixed at the gate. Everyone dreams his own dreams. Rumba’s wavelike rhythms and beauty “drives them to despair”.
They call him “The Bird”.
This time Dolores (YYZ) and Don Carlos (AAZ) came to visit Miguel (MCK). He stops singing and turns to his guests.
- YYZ: “A bird sings not because it knows the answer, but because it has a song.”
- MCK: And a writer writes not because he has an answer or he knows what he is doing, but because he cannot help it.
- YYZ: I agree. It is a diagnosis. Restless Hands Syndrome. Or is it the brain?
- AAZ: Did you know that there is new rehabilitation center open for HP writers?
- MCK: Do we qualify?
- AAZ: I don’t know.
- YYZ: Most likely. The part of the therapy is that writers are NOT allowed to write.
- MCK: Who would need such therapy then?
- YYZ: I would put the question differently: “Who would want such therapy”?
- AAZ: Oh, I think some writers who tend to shoot their characters for no apparent reason. Not only there is no reason, but there is no explanation either.
- YYZ: Are you talking about Narcissus?
- AAZ: Of course, I am talking about Narcissus, but if only about him. The reason for your violence is?
- YYZ: There is no violence. It is not a shooting. It is awakening – from one reality to another. That is all.
- AAZ: Why did you not explain it?
- YYZ: There is no need to explain everything. If I start explaining everything, then readers will need therapy.
- MCK: Readers, writers… people who would need such therapy the most will want it the least.
- AAZ: Why don’t we go back to our own therapy? I’ll have a shot of Tequila. Lolita? Would you like some?
- YYZ: I think you are doing it on purpose, Carlos. You want me to be under the table unconscious so I won’t read…
- AAZ: I am sure you can handle it.
- YYZ: Yeah, well, maybe next time. Can I go back to reading?
- MCK: Yes, go ahead.
- YYZ: It’s from “The Pedagogy of Revolution”.
- AAZ: From “Pedagogy” or “Demagogy”?
- YYZ: Carlos, stop it. What difference does it make? Words, words, words… The next thing you know we will receive an invitation to the HP Rehabilitation Center.
- AAZ: So…
- YYZ: So, "The discovery of Che’s remains metonymically activated a series of interlinked associations – rebel, martyr, rogue figure from a picaresque adventure, savior, renegade, extremist – in which there was no fixed divide among them.
The current court of opinion places Che on a continuum that teeters between viewing him as a misguided rebel, a coruscatingly brilliant guerrilla philosopher, a poet-warrior jousting at windmills, a brazen warrior who threw down the gauntlet to the bourgeoisie, the object of fervent paeans to his sainthood, or a mass murderer clothed in the guise of an avenging angel whose every action is imbricated in violence – the archetypal Fanatical Terrorist." (— Dr. Peter McLaren, author of Che Guevara, Paulo Freire, and the Pedagogy of Revolution)
- AAZ: And your point is?
- YYZ: I am just curious. I always think of Che when I think of Miguel, well except for the mass murderer part.
- AAZ: Miguel?
- MCK: I am sorry?
- AAZ: What do you think?
- MCK: About?
- YYZ: About Che Guevara?
- MCK: I don’t think about him. It is too late to think. I can read the book later. But I’d rather spend my time in the garden enjoying the beautiful day, the flowers and the butterflies…
- AAZ: Yes, your garden it amazing, but if you have so many butterflies, you must have as many if not more caterpillars.
- MCK: No.
- YYZ: What do you mean “no”? Where do they come from?
- MCK: I don’t know where they come from… But I know that tomorrow morning we will have some cleaning to do…
- YYZ: Miguel,…they must come from somewhere.
- MCK: I agree. They must. But we must not know where do they come from. Do you know where you come from?
- YYZ: Theoretically.
- MCK: That is not an answer and there are no answers, let me assure you. The question is not where we come from and when and where to we disappear, but the question is what are we going to do NOW?
- AAZ: Now, I think it would be a good time for a night swim.
- MCK: You, kids, go, I will stay and read. Oh, OK, don’t give me that look, I will read about him, I will read this “Pedagogical Poem”.
Don Carlos and Dolores leave. Miguel Alvarez stays, picks up a book and starts reading. It is already night time, but the lighting in the house is not too bright.
Miguel thinks to himself: “Yes, the time has come. Now … Oh, Pain! Fly into the night, you, “Brazen warriors, coruscatingly brilliant guerrilla philosophers, brazen poet-warriors jousting at windmills!”
Scene 5: Narcissus is flying into in an empty night.
Back to the garden. Narcissus (Butterfly) is in extreme pain. He makes it to the end of the day. When it becomes dark, he notices light far away. He sums up his energy, and flies toward it, for the first time in this day he knows the direction and destination. He comes closer and closer and closer [close-up], it gets hot and even hotter.
Impact…
Horrifying scream…………………
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Scene 6: The next morning.
Narcissus is back in his room, in his bed. He awakens in the morning and next to him lies naked a handsome young man.
Narcissus is speechless. He is trying to say something, but he can’t. He comes to his senses when he hears:
- What? What? What? You sound just like my Echo.
- Echo?
- Never mind. Are you awake, love? Not yet?
- …not yet…
- Maybe it will be easier to talk after we have …mmm... How about a cup of coffee?
- …coffee...
- My specialty is coffee “Madame Butterfly”…
- Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! [screams]
- Easy, woman, don’t scream!!!
- …cream…
- Ok, cream it is, I will go make it.
Goes away to fetch coffee.
Narcissus jumps from the bed and rushes to the nearest mirror. In the mirror he sees a beautiful woman… the one he saw a lifetime ago. Echo. He is unable to leave the scene. He is transfixed and paralyzed. His consciousness is like a butterfly rushes somewhere where it has never been before.
He is repeating the words of Friedrich Nietzsche:
“… if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. “
Cut his agony short.
The last words that Narcissus said were the words of Chuang Tzu
“I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
He is paralyzed by this thought and remains unmoved until his death.
The man comes back with two cups of coffee; one of them has a Butterfly shape in the center. There is nobody in the room.
He is seen sitting on a veranda and reading the journal of Narcissus as if his own. The last entry is:
“I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
Three days later he finds a dead butterfly.
Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
YYZ & AAZ Stories
- Autobiography in 42 Chapters. The Passion for the Forbidden Dance.
Some people are strange: degreed as an engineer, turned to Buddhism to find peace, studied psychology to dissect the mind, and studio trained in Tango to demonstrate her passion for the forbidden dance. - Autobiography in 42 Chapters. What's Wrong with Now?
Chapter 2: Don Carlos calls Dolores and asks her to send a script about Narcissus. Will she?
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Echo and Narcissus Waterhouse canvas
Current Bid: $21.99
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Echo and Narcissus john waterhouse repro oil
Current Bid: $139.00
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WATERHOUSE ART PRINT Echo and Narcissus RARE NEW POSTER
Current Bid: $4.99
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A Trip to Italy
- Unsung Heroes - Readers. Twilight Lawns. "Life is Tricky with Enchanting Pathos." Part 1 of 42.
A new chapter in the Book of Life - "Autobiography in 42 Chapters". Svetlana is flying to Rome. The story is dedicated to Twilight Lawns and it has more significance than it appears on the surface.
Narcissus and Echo. Collective Saga
- Our Well Of Wishes(A Play)
Part 1. Author: Maggie-May - Narcissus makes a wish
Part 2: Narcissus is sent into the Thespian Fields by Nemesis to find the well of wishes. (Author: A.A. Zavala) - http://maggie-may.hubpages.com/hub/OUR-Well-Of-Wishes-Act-Two-Third-Part-PLAY
Part 3. Author: Maggie-May - Our Well Of Wishes: Part 4
Author: Nikkij504gurl - Echo and Narcissus meet
Part 5: Echo and Narcissus meet for the first time in the Thespian Fields. (Author: A.A. Zavala)
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Thank you, Sunnie.
Poor characters - they can do nothing - I am writing them and can do whatever I want. But I enjoyed it.
We will see what others will say.
Have a nice day, too
Well, one of the others says, WOW. Your delicate mixture, of the always effervescent Mck whose genius derives from an extraordinary and mysterious combination of ruthless bodily and mental energy, and a commanding and powerful physical presence, a compelling handsome actor's mask and ever-present communication of a nerve-tingling sense of efficiency, is masterful. The formatting was impeccable, the content was excellent, and you did a great job of focusing on your modest characters.
I was forced to rush to the glass doored bookcase grab the Webster’s New Twentieth Century Dictionary, unabridged, and find the precise meaning of the words impact and impression.
Impact: to strike or thrust against, to force tightly together.
Impression: a mark, imprint an effect produced on the mind or senses.
I felt the impact of your words, and they have left an impression.
Thank you, Mike. In that sense, we are all impressionists and expressionists. Everything leaves an imprint/impression and we express our expressions or mirror whatever we mirror (I am still no sure).
I don't think you realize that you have a gift for or with words. You are a master of short characteristics.
I certainly enjoyed playing with my characters, especially Narcissus. Poor guy. But his story is endless - he can travel through time back and forth...
what he exactly does - since the conception of the myth, the guy is still alive in our minds. He "blooms" every spring in numbers that cannot be counted.
Did you like singing? I love this song - because it is Rumba and it is somewhat easier for me to follow in Spanish.
I definitely want to go for a swim. I think it is one of the cases when a writer has most of the fun.
Thank you for reading, Mike. And thank you for the compliments.
A parrellel universe for our Narcissus to exist. The dialogue between you and Mck was eerily dead on, as I can see the progression of my comments as portrayed. I think I would have responded in exactly the same way. I would want to know what the fascination is with shooting/violence. It makes sense to me here.
The progression of story was like the flight of a butterfly, bouncing, fluttering, but with purpose. I like butterflies, but relate to moths more easily. I'm glad I finished reading, and realized that Narcissus was looking at himself naked. I was afraid you were going to make him go Greek.
Thank you, Augustine. As I said, Narcissus can travel in his dreams or in his alternative reality/realities as long as the author wishes. Any time in any direction with any change of personality. It is not real.
Narcissus was not real to begin with. Yet, he and Echo are inseparable. There is a threesome for you - a person, his echo, his shadow, his reflection - ok, exclude person - make it a company of three. Echo, Shadow and Reflection.
I wanted my characters to look real - I was not aiming for farce. When Narcissus said "Go Greek", he means "Go to Greece" - maybe I hear broken English more often than you do. But when he wakes up with another man...
One thing I have not decided - if the episode was done as a film - the idea of a script is for the film to be made, of course - how to show Narcissus in the last scene? Probably still as a man... although Narcissus Number Next and everybody else would see him as Echo.
So, the idea, that Narcissus only sees Echo in his reflection, but not the way he sees himself.
The truth is we are all Narcissuses and Echoes of each other - the trick is to be able to see ourselves and recognize ourselves in this House of Mirrors.
I want to send Narcissus on a trip... If I have time and motivation and inspiration, I might do it.
He cannot die. Nobody can.
Thank you for reading. I wonder what is next with Carlos? Any thoughts?
Great hub and i vote up here.
Here's to many more to share on here.
Take care
Eiddwen.
Thank you, Eiddwen. Yes, Narcissus may wake up in a place you least expect. That is if the author will find the time.
Thank you for reading.
Looks to me that you have initiated an novella series with Maria and Don Carlos. They have taken a swim to?
That is my nostalgia. I haven't been to the sea for ages. Swimming at night is so... But it has been so long ago.
I don't think you mean "romance" when you say "novella". I think friendship is more appropriate and easy for these two.
By the way, the idea with the pimp was yours, not that you suggested it, but you told me that you saw one and even mentioned some theory of attractive women by being ostentatious. I have to look it up.
So far, I don't know what it next for Dolores and Carlos, but for Narcissus I have some destination in mind.
One cup of tea later. I thought maybe I can pick a topic of what interests you (I already did) and write a conversation - it does not have to be long.
What do you think? It won't be too personal and besides I want the characters to be our reflections but I need the freedom to veer off - for entertaining purposes.
I have to add, this cracks me up:
"Miguel is a controversial character. Nobody knows his past, but there are a lot of speculations and rumors. It is known that he is a voracious reader, loves dogs. He has his own café. But what he does best is playing piano and singing."
Listening to the music again.
For the characters I wanted to achieve some blending, you know when you look at something through the window and it rains, the silhouettes only...
I think I love this story the most - Augustine asked me "to have fun" - I think - "mission accomplished".
I hope, you like Rumba, Mike. It is very romantic dance, I never knew it existed until August.
"I was a man today..."
It was Rumba wavelike motion that suggested night swim in the ocean.
It so happened that the song was about a butterfly as well. I love these words:
Yo soy raton de tu ratonera
Trampa que no mata pero no libera
Vivo muriendo prisionero
I am a rat in your rat trap
A trap that doesn't kill, but does'nt release
I live, dying as your prisoner
Don't we all?
I hope you, guys, like it - there is not much audience. I guess it is our private club. V.I.P.
Finally I am a member of a private V.I.P. Club. I don't know a thing about music. Music stopped for me long ago. You have reintroduced it, and Epi also. It was a mistake on my part to shut music out.
Mike, there is nothing to know. There only one criteria:
"I like it.
I don't like it.
I could not care less."
The more you listen, the more you hear, the more you know. But to enjoy, you don't have to know all about it. Music is how feelings sound. Sad, cheerful, romantic, nostalgic...
Ah Miguel Alvarez sent me here, I said if the tickets were free and popcorn provided I would come along. so I came to watch this play unfold.
All echoes, and mirrors and shadows, so many facets. I find Narcissus very intriguing, is he man or butterfly or either as the whim takes.
Thank you, Rosemay50. Everybody here is a shadow, a reflection, an echo of a real person. Maybe even a butterfly - as a symbol of eternal transformation.
Narcissus is a myth, once the characters are created they will live as long as we will let them - we have to read and remember - that is all what is needed for a character to be alive.
Every time "Miguel Alvarez" is read, he comes to life in the imagination of the reader and he is never the same. "Imagination of the reader does all the work."
Frankly I love this story - I don't know why - maybe because I makes me feel happy. If someone else likes it too, all the better.
This is so me - "Mariposa Traicionera" - I hope you like Miguel's singing. Only if he could ask you for a dance. You would have enjoyed it, I assure you.
Thank you for your visit.
It was the "Handicap Theory", here is some info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Handicap_principle
Oh, great, I have read it. Now I feel stupid - "humour" is a handicap trait. I would say so.
We do attract attention one way or the other.
And bodybuilding.
We are such animals. Well, I might as well buy a cheesy sombrero for myself.
Don't feel too bad. The theory explains the reason for most of my success. I'm cool with it.
Now I have to go read the darn thing again.
Dear kallini2010,
I think this is a beautiful masterpiece.
It is like a musical form with each of your character representing an instrument (playing a specific melody) in the piece. The scenes are perhaps variations of your 'musical form' showing unity and variety, contrast and connection, rhythm and climax.
The photos are like accompaniments to your writing. They both compliment each other perfectly.
Enjoyable and Exquisite! That is my impression!
Kind Regards,
haikutwinkle
Thank you, Haikutwinkle, for your lovely comment.
You have a poetic soul, there is no doubt. I enjoyed writing this piece - it is a fragment, but it is exactly what I like. I like a glimpse... into the eternity...
When I wrote this story, I started writing writing dialogues and some strange pieces that made me happy.
Now I got busy with "erotic waves" - they are not erotic, but "tango waves"... I wrote some "poetry" about tango and love and next thing I know, I am dancing tango for ten days straight... as if I wrote the script myself.
It is very hard for me to come back to writing now, I am in a completely different mode...
But you are right, it is all a composition of music, dance, words, thoughts, ideas... it is not just writing, it is living. I feel alive. And when I came back to this piece, I felt happy again.
This is me. This is who I am.
Thank you again for understanding - it is such a rare feeling.
Kallini, this is a masterpiece. A veritable tip-toe into the twilight between worlds of the characters and the imagination. The narrative is poetic and musical and so interpretive on so many levels. Your Narcissus hub is the most individual of all.
Well, the new Hub is finished and just published. Check it out and let me know what you think of my long hub "Narcissus in Peril".
Thank you, Astra Nomik for such a high praise.
I have read your Narcissus Chapter and as I said it was very entertaining. I agree with you, that the author's personality shines through every piece, yours, Augustine's, mine.
I wrote my Narcissus as a stand-alone piece, yet I was never able to abandon him and he became a character in other stories about
Don Carlos, Dolores, Trip to Italy, it is like a dream being revisited all the time. I was very surprised to get your comment today because I left my "Trip to Italy" just mid... (unfinished) and came back to it a few days ago, still unable to finish a part, yet working on it.
And who do you think is the HERO of the story that was supposed to be about other characters?
Narcissus.
In fact, quite a few of them. I multiply them. A bunch of Narcissuses. A bunch of Daffodils.
What can I do? He is such a character that I cannot part my ways with. Maybe he is a part of me.
Thanks again and congratulations on publishing your story. It is marvelous. Amazing.
This is my part 3 - also sort of stand alone
you are welcome to check it out, but don't feel obligated to read, I know it can be taxing
This was much more different and unique that our other narcissus and echo stories. sort of fits in as a dream narssicus had. I really liked the quotes and the vibe of this one. Great hub.
Yes, Nikkij504gurl, both Narcissus and I keep dreaming about butterflies.
About flowers?
About beauty?
About transience of life?
I think he became famous for the way he died, not for the way he lived. There are too many narcissistic people around and because I was reading and writing about Narcissus - I saw another narcissistic person in my dream today. I don't know her at all - yet in my dream - I made her something completely ... disproportional.
Dreams!
Dreams can just run crazy sometimes!
Yes, Nikkij504gurl, crazy is the word. But once I created my characters, I love them. They are mine.
The dream factory is different - it is created in my head, but by whom?
My husband, sorry, ex-husband is there all the time.
That means something should change in my life when I am awake.
But what exactly?
Yea my dreams are random and never make sense. sometimes i see people of my past, sometimes people i never even met before. I dont want to get married...because i never want to get divorced. and so far havent met anyone i can stay with longer than 2 years... blah. I love your characters. They are definitely yours and unique. like your writing. going off in different directions is ok for your hubs because it all seems to fit in the end. and makes sense.
Thank you, Nicole, if I may call you that.
You are not alone, of course. I do want to get married, for the second and the last time, yet there is no Prince Charming in sight. Maybe I am blind.
Funny enough, I started writing on HubPages with "Armando Who?" story - story of a short relationship went awry and I had a New Year Resolution - "No more Armando Stories" - meaning no more stupid relationships of that kind.
What do you know?
The next boyfriend was yet another Armando. We were together for almost a year and even decided to get married, but I called it off.
So...
The whole thread - "Men are Buses" remains.
I don't have the magical answer.
Not for relationships, not for writing.
But writing is easier to manage and I love that sequence
Armando Stories. Armando I, Armando II,
Now who?
There is a song "Ahora Quien?" - "Now who?"
you can hear the anguish in it without translation. I loved it even before I met Armando I and then it almost became the song of my relationship with him (not our song, my song) and later the song of the break-up was
"Because love does not exist".
I removed three of the six Armando Stories because it did not make too much sense at the time.
Maybe it is time to republish them. I don't know.
I sort of veered off the Narcissus track.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMfpvVyDY1U
Not the best version (it is sped up because it is Salsa) - but it has English lyrics.
I think the speed ruins it - but if you want the other version just type "Ahora Quien?" in youtube.
Who now? If not I?
Sunnie Day Level 8 Commenter 8 months ago
Good Morning Svetlana,
Oh my this was so so good..very entertaining..The line
“I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
Was thought provoking..humm??? Brillant then found the butter fly and his questoned is answered..
You painted Mike and A.A so well in their dialogs that go back and forth..love it..
Hope you have a wonderful day,
Sunnie