Profile
| User: | atpotch (1168046) Tchaikovsky's Compositions
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| Name: | Tchaikovsky | |||||
| Website: | An Angel Odyssey and By Any Other Name | |||||
| Location: | Birmingham, United Kingdom | |||||
| Birthdate: | 1983-07-06 | |||||
| E-mail: | toby.hester@gmail.com | |||||
| LJ Talk: |
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| Bio: | From Proust's Du cote de chez Swann: On our way home from mass we would often meet M Legrandin, who, detained in Paris by his professional duties as an engineer, could only (except in the regular holiday seasons) visit his house at Combray between Saturday evenings and Monday mornings. He was one of that class of men who, apart from a scientific career in which they may well have proved brilliantly successful, have acquired an entirely different kind of culture, literary or artistic, for which their professional specialisation has no use but by which their conversation profits. More lettered than many men of letters, (we were not aware at this period that M Legrandin had a distinct reputation as a writer, and we were greatly astonished to find that a well-known composer had set some verses of his to music), endowed with greater "facility" than many painters, they imagine that the life they are obliged to lead is not that for which they are really fitted, and they bring to their regular occupations either an indifference tinged with fantasy, or a sustained and haughty application, scornful, bitter, and conscientious. The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in ’68, And he told me All romantics meet the same fate someday, Cynical and drunk and Boring someone in some dark café. You laugh he said, You think you’re immune, Go look at your eyes, they’re full of moon, You like roses and kisses and Pretty men to tell you all those pretty lies, Pretty lies. When you gonna realise they’re only pretty lies Only pretty lies, Just pretty lies? He put a quarter in the Wurlitzer, and he pushed three buttons and the thing began to whirr and a barmaid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tie and she said Drink up now its gettin on time to close. Richard, you haven’t really changed, I said, It’s just that Now you’re romanticizing some pain that’s in your head -- you got tombs in Your eyes, but the songs you punched are dreaming. Listen, They sing of love so sweet, love so sweet When you gonna get yourself back on your feet? Oh and, love can be so sweet, love so sweet. Richard got married to a figure skater, And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator and he Drinks at home now most nights with the TV on and all the house lights left up bright. --I’m gonna blow this damn candle out I don’t want nobody coming over to my table I got nothing to talk to anybody about All good dreamers pass this way some day Hiding down bottles in dark cafes Dark cafes Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings and fly away. Only a phase, these dark cafe days. -Joni Mitchell TCH | |||||
| Interests: | 11: alias, angel, bob dylan, bridge, buffy, cricket, crosswords, cuaron, fish, miscellaneousness, proust | |||||
| Schools: | None listed | |||||
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| Account type: | Basic Account | |||||


