Mysteries of the Mind

On Friday night, St. Patrick’s day, I slept a grand total of 1 hour and 30 minutes, not because of excessive Guinness consumption–I had one pint (to keep my passport)–but because I could not get these lines out of my head:

Ya sé todo lo que va a pasar
Lo sé desde que te vi llegar

Fifteen words. Sung. Incessantly. For hours. I tossed, I turned, I tried to think of other things–relaxing things, like the smell of soda bread and the two times I walked around Père Lachaise. It was all to no avail.

An hour prior, Emgirl and I had parked our bicycles under the arc leading to Teatro Romea and sung “Danny Boy.”  An Irish tune might have made sense, but alas… My brain decided to stall on Spanish rock.

It’s still a good song.

These lines are just “neurologically irresistible” and also a very large pain in my very tired ass.

 

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