Hoy, alguien me preguntó por qué mi mail dice "forgotten". A diferencia de lo que significan las siglas WTKA, el forgotten tiene una mejor historia detrás. Lo tome de esta frase:
We are the forgotten ones. The ones who are too shy to lead, but too smart to follow.
Esa frase aparece en un fanfic que leí en secundaria (ooootssss) y que me marcó porque descubrí que no tienes que ser García Márquez o Saramago para poder atrapar a tu público con una buena historia. Además, fue el fanfic que me hizo acostumbrarme a escribir en inglés (para bien o para mal, uds deciden).
Lo curioso es que pasaron algunos años y apareció My Chemical Romance. Desde entonces, he pensado que ellos son la representación máxima de esa frase (aunque ahora ya son "leaders" por decirlo de alguna manera). Pero al escuchar Vampires will never hurt you por primera vez, supe que si pertenecía a algún género, era a ese. Después vinieron otras canciones que también me llenan como Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us, Cubicles, Demolition Lovers, The Jetset Life is gonna kill you, I never told you what I do for a living... y más recientemente Teenagers y The Sharpest Lives.
En algún momento les escribí una canción donde despreciaba que se "vendieran" (ahem, showcase de Alfa, ahem). No obstante, hubo una canción (o algo así) que me atreví a escribir gracias a ellos. Son de esas cosas que siempre pensé pero que en secundaria y antes era más fácil pretender que no existían. Era más fácil cantar *Nsync a todo pulmón y fingir que me identificaba con líneas como: "You're all I ever wanted, you're all I ever needed, yeah... so tell me what to do know when I want you back". HA-HA.
Así, sin más choro, les presento Forgotten (Death's your time to shine)
Nothing's as perfect as this,
except you don't belong here.
The odor of grass in sunny days,
all you wish for are cloudy nights.
A barbecue and kids in the pool,
you play with death and live of blood.
Your heart's as black as your hair and nails.
Do you remember what you dyed first?
The sun gives no warmth to your flesh,
not even naked do you show yourself.
The smiles you show are fake and worn,
the tears you shed are acid rain.
The hair in their soup, the stain in their dress,
the zit on their nose, the knife in their veins,
that's what you are, you're out of place.
As big as a bug, as bright as the air,
a ghost in the fog, a rock in the road,
that's how you feel when they turn their heads.
You only feel at ease in rainy days,
pretend you drown, mix tears and rain.
Tomorrow there'll still be sun to your despair.
Impossible for the moon to remain up there,
but if you close your eyes, you'll dream of her.
So drift into darkness forever (you won't regret).
Nothing's as perfect as that,
you know that's your place.
Pitch dark nights, a bloody taste,
the world still laughs, a few will cry.
Rooms full of fog, lands of the lost,
they will move on, someday they'll forget (you).
Your heart's as black as your hair and nails.
Do you remember what you dyed first?
The sun gives no warmth to your flesh,
not even naked do you show yourself.
The smiles you show are fake and worn,
the tears you shed are acid rain.
Acid through my pores.
Poison in my veins.
I just realized.
Now I'm dead.
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