Time had gone, and my memory did not exist, and I was unable to distinguish between what I had invented and what I had known, and I knew that what I had invented was all false.
Doris Lessing in The Golden Notebook.



008 Centauros

Noche de Sábado, los actores del lejano oeste con algún oscuro secreto, la norma de los vaqueros era aparecer en pantalla las tardes de sábado aburridas. Nunca entendí que después de tanta busqueda odiara a su sobrina y luego amarla ¿Tanto se parecía a la madre?

The Searchers, John Ford, 1956
Saturday night, the players of the Far West have some dark secret, cowboys used to perform during boring Saturday afternoon. I never understood that so long searching he hates and then loves his niece, did she look like her mother so much?

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