I hope that I don't fall in love with you

Tom Waits a comienzos de los 70
Source: www.youtube.com




Tom Waits Live 1977
Source: www.youtube.com

Displacement (II)

He did not move or talk and instead he just stared at her. He had the look in his face. She called it “the look” every time he placed his eyes on her and then went somewhere else. She wondered where he would go. Several places, she assumed. He could be looking at her and could be looking inside himself. She thought she would like to be the image that took him to other places. Like a book, she thought, or a film. In the film she watched this week, a Russian man had “the look” while an Italian woman talked hysterically about the love she had for him. The scene ended with a close-up of the man talking discretely to the camera: “She is insane”. She wondered if he ever thought like the Russian man. Whenever they finished texting, she could see him nodding his head, “Insane, she is insane”. Or maybe after almost making love to each other he had wanted to say, “Insane, you are insane”. Once she had asked him about his impulses, “Do you feel them too?” He answered that actually yes; that he could not bring himself to watch the films she gave him for fear of them. She liked to imagine him being tempted by her films, that thought made her really happy. She wished he would wonder off with her every time she stared at him. Could he too be the image that took her to other places? Like a book, she thought, or a film.

Displacement

The well- ordered world had thrown them out, for their adventure had no place in it. She had heard him talk about systems but yet could not make a word out of what he was saying since she was too busy looking at his wrist and then at his hair that was always so messed up in a not well-ordered way that she loved. But yet, today he seemed real to her and that scared her away. He talked about his past and what he liked and disliked and she could see him in that small town being very disciplined and religious before becoming doubtful and agnostic. She could also imagine him in the larger city, teaching rich yet obedient children and being surprised one day when they wrote him a farewell card. It was there, she seemed to understand, that he must have begun to be what he was today. She thought she was not ready to see him as real and human and that all she wanted to do was prevent him from talking so that she could kiss him and be held and be conflicted with that feeling of freshness and desire. She wanted to kiss his shoulder and snuggle into the hollow of that shoulder. Today they had laughed a bit stiffly. She toyed with something on the ground; at some point he almost had a sad smile. Today she once more felt the emotion he always conveyed her, of not belonging to anyone in particular. Go away, she said. Impossible to leave you, he said.

Hiroshima Mon Amour

Who are you?
You destroy me.
You are so good for me.
How could I have known that this city was made to the size of love?
How would I have known that you were made to the size of my body?
You´re great. How wonderful. You´re great.
How slow all of a sudden.
And how sweet.
More than you can know.
You destroy me.
You´re so good for me.
You destroy me.
You´re so good for me.
Plenty of time.
Please.
Take me.
Deform me, make me ugly.
Why not you?
Why not you in this city and in this night?
(text by Marguerite Duras for the film by Alain Resnais)