Battypenguin

Juan Squeekers, 23, Man, Grönland
twitter.com/RT_GreenSenast sedd: onsdag eftermiddag

61967 spelade låtar sedan 19 jun 2006

0 Älskade låtar | 38 inlägg | 0 blandband | 358 hojtningar

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Om mig

He had more books than I've ever seen in all my life - two libraries, two rooms loaded from floor to ceiling around all four walls, and such books as the Apocryphal Something-or-Other in ten volumes. He played Verdi operas and pantomimed them in his pajamas with a great rip down the back. He didn't give a damn about anything. He is a great scholar who goes reeling down the New York waterfront with original seventeenth-century musical manuscripts under his arm, shouting. He crawls like a big spider through the streets. His excitement blew out of his eyes in stabs of fiendish light. He rolled his neck is spastic ecstasy. He lisped, he writhed, he flopped, he moaned, he howled, he fell back in despair. He could hardly get a word out, he was so excited with life. Dean stood before him with head bowed, repeated over and over again, 'Yes...Yes...Yes.' He took me into a corner. 'That Rollo Greb is the greatest, most wonderful of all. That's what I was trying to tell you - that's what I want to be. I want to be like him. He's never hung-up, he goes every direction, he lets it all out, he knows time, he has nothing to do but rock back and forth. Man, he's the end! You see, if you go like him all the time you'll finally get it.'
'Get what?'
'IT! IT! I'll tell you - now no time, we have no time now.' Dean rushed back to watch Rollo Greb some more.

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