(Ain’t it fun – The dead boys)http://www.fileden.com/files/2010/11/9/3011696/My%20Documents/10%20–%20Aint%20It%20Fun.mp3″
When I woke up this morning, a thought crossed my mind. Well, I guess something else crossed my mind, but I can’t remember it and probably would be even less worthy to read about it. Could you imagine such an insignificance?
What I was saying, the thought: I would like to become a translator machine. A flow of words all around. And not necessarily a very accurate one… google translator would be enough.
I would be famous in the Tower of Babel. I could speak in every language without notice the tons of sacrificed details. I would never find myself telling lies about what I did on sunday morning to avoid my suicide in a spiral of impossible explanations. I could keep my hands in the pocket without having to draw circles in the air. I would write long stories all at once. Life would be a haven of peace. The sun would bright again.
Well, was mainly kidding. But there is something about that when speaking a language that is not your mother tongue. You feel that you are slightly different person. You become completely basic, and your jokes…uff, better no comment.
However, is really rewarding when you manage to communicate yourself in another language, even when you need several tries. At first you are like an egocentric kid, only speaking about you and your plans. Then you can include somebody else in the stories, then give some details and so on. Patiently, maybe came the day when you could totally recognize yourself in the translator machine you have become. I will wait for this day!
Noise for everyone 