Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|You don't understand me

-Anni-Frid? Anni-Frid, my darling, are you there?


Agny entered in the bedroom. Jazz posters were post in every wall, and there were two shelves full of LPs. The truth was that they were not at their best in economical facts, but Frida earned some money, and she had let her spend it in her bigger passion: music.

-Not for you.- Frida answered, with a rough voice. She couldn’t deny she had been crying.

-Honey, please… You must understand me, I want the best for you…

-So, why don’t you let me go on tour with the band?

-Because that’s not the best, Anni-Frid. You said you’re not going to do what your mother did. But you didn’t meet her, and you don’t know what she did or said. But I do. When she learned she was pregnant, she was so happy. She told me she was going to write to your father, and that he will leave his wife. But did he? Oh, no, my darling. I told her, because I know how most of men are. But she didn’t listen to me, and look what happened. The doctors said she was ill, but it was me the only one who knew the real cause of her dead. She dead because of disillusion, of the disillusion your father left on her.

Agny rinsed her tears, and hug Frida.

-But mamma, I’m not in love with any man. I’m just in love with music, and I know music is in love with me. I know my mother did bad falling in love with him, but it’s not my fault. And if I fail, I will try again. But you must know that, one day, I will be successful. And you’ll be there to see me.

-I’m sure of that, my love. But not today, and not tomorrow. When you’re older, and have studied, you can go with your band and have fun , and all that you want…

-Oh, mamma, you don’t listen to me! I don’t want to go to University, I just want to sing! And not for having fun only. I want to earn money singing, and I know I can.

-It’s you the one that doesn’t listen! You know that…

-No, mamma.-said Frida-I know nothing, except one thing. You don’t understand me. And now, please go. I want to be alone.

Agny got up from the bed, and went out of the room.

“Stop crying, Agny.”, she said to herself, “She will think about it, then she’ll come to you, and she’ll apologize. This is not like Sinny’s, she’s not pregnant. This can be repaired without any pain.”

She walked to her room and took the photo album from her wardrobe.

She opened it, and remembered the old times.



Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|A professional singer

-Leaving school? What are you saying, Anni-Frid?


Agny was angry. She was, in fact, extremely angry.

-My darling, do you know what that means? If you want to have a future…

-I must go to University, I know! You always say the same, mamma.-she exclaimed-You’ve listened to my voice, and you know I worth it. Mamma, there’s only a chance in life, and mine has arrived. Please, mamma. Without your agreement, this is going to be so hard…

-Is going to be? Oh, dear, do you think you’re going to do it? Not while I’m alive! You will finish school, you will study at the University, you will get married and you will have a nice job, just as I’m named Arntine Lyngstad!- she punched the table.

-I won’t do that, mamma! I’m not a child anymore, and I can make my own decisions!

-No, you are not! For God’s sake, you’re 15!

-Almost 16!-she shouted- And what if I’m 15? When my mother was my age, she was already working at the farm!

-But you’re not your mother, Anni-Frid.-Agny said, calming down. She didn’t like that Anni-Frid compared her to her mother. She didn’t want her to comet the same mistakes…

-No, I’m not. I’m not, because she didn’t have the chance that I have. And I’m taking it, mamma.

-No, you’re not!

-I am going to do it, with your agreement or without!-she said, and started going upstairs.

-Anni-Frid Sinny Lyngstad, if you continue going up on those stairs, don’t expect me to talk you anymore!

Frida looked at her grandmother, defiant, and ran to her bedroom.

Agny sat, and sighed. What happened with that little girl? She wanted to kill her, or what?

She loved her with all her heart, but, with that discussion, she couldn’t avoid remembering the one that she had with her daughter when she told her she was pregnant.

No one could have doubt that they were mother and daughter.

Agny knew Anni-Frid had a great voice, and she was proud of it. But she didn’t want her to enter in the show business. She had met several people with her same dreams, and everything had gone awfully for them, tough they were also so talented. She saw them unhappy, and she wanted her granddaughter to be happy on life.

She knew that, if she failed, that would be a great disillusion. And she didn’t want that for Anni-Frid.

She decided to go upstairs: she needed to talk to her granddaughter.

Daliá♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|14 years later

 Eskilstuna, May 1961.


The breeze beat her face, messing up her hair; and she loved it.

Anni-Frid ran over the meadow to her house, where her grandmother waited for her, angry.

-Where in heaven were you, Anni-Frid Lyngstad?

-I was in the city!- she answered, smiling- I’ve been chatting to Sara about the band. We’ve got lots of plans that I will tell you later, OK? I’m so happy, mamma! I love you!

She kissed Agny’s cheek, and jumped into the house.

Her grandmother sighed, and smiled. She couldn’t help, she was deeply in love with her granddaughter. They only thing she didn’t like, is that she looked at lot like her father, that bloody man that had ruined her daughter’s live. But, luckily, she had her mother’s smile, that smile that made everything around her shine.

Agny went into the house.

-Was everything OK at school?-she said, with a deep Norwegian accent.

-Well, yes. I got the Maths’ exam mark.

-And...?

-Five point two over ten. But I promise I’ll improve my Maths!

-You always say the same, Anni-Frid.-said Agny, looking at her seriously.-You really have to improve. I want you to go to the University, and for that you must have great marks. You know this, don’t you?

-Yes, mamma…-she answered, going up to her bedroom.

She sat, and put on some music.

She started thinking about what she was going to do. She hadn’t told her grandmother, but she wanted to leave school. A famous Swedish producer had offered them making a tour around the south part of Sweden, and they should, they had to say yes. Her dream had always been becoming a singer, and finally she saw her chance. But Agny… She had always told her that she will have to go to University if she wanted to have a good future, but Anni-Frid (or Frida, as her friends had started calling her) didn’t agree. She could sing very well, and her grandmother knew it, but the problem was that Frida didn’t sing for entertainment.

She lived for and because music, and her grandmother should know it. But the problem was, she didn’t find the moment to tell her…

She relaxed, and started singing that old jazz song.

She made her choice: she would talk to her grandmother that night.


Daliá♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|Prologue

Hej! Here it is, the first chapter of my own Frida biography. I must say not everything I write here it's true. I'm exploring the genre of fanfiction, and I need to invent things for joining acts and times. I do not own anything about Anni-Frid Lyngstad's life, this is just the work of a fan.
So...
ENJOY! :D
***************************************************************************************

Prologue


-Promise me you’ll keep her.

Sinny was laying on the bed. Agny nodded, and tried not to cry. She had always been a strong woman, and she will be forever.

-But you can’t leave now, honey. She needs you, she’s your daughter. You have to be strong and…

-I can’t, mother, you know I can’t. You know she’s the one I most love in this world, but I can’t help. I’m leaving, mother.

-No, no! You’re my little girl, you can’t go away.

She kissed her forehead.

-Mother… Promise me… Promise me that you’ll look for him. Promise me that one day Anni-Frid will know her father.

-Honey…

-Please, Mom.-she said, begin.

-Okay, okay. I try to find that damn man.

-Don’t call him that, mother! He loved me...

-He didn’t love you, Sinny. He used you, as a toy.-answered Agny, shortly.

-Oh, please, Mom, I don’t want to discuss this again… Give her everything you can, just as you did with me. And teach her to be strong, please.

-I’ll do, I’ll do… You’ll be proud of her, I’m sure, my love.

-Thank you, Mom. Thanks for everything. You’re the best mother this world will ever know.-she sighed slowly-Tell her… Tell her I love her.

She gave a short sight.

Agny Lyngstad closed the eyes of her dead daughter.

“You’ll be proud of her, my darling.”, she said to herself, “You’ll be the proudest mother of the world.”




Dalià♥

Sobre el arte.

¿Para qué sirve el Arte? Para darnos la breve pero fulgurante ilusión de la camelia, abriendo en el tiempo una brecha emocional que parece irreductible a la lógica animal. ¿Cómo surge el Arte? Nace de la capacidad que tiene la mente de esculpir el ámbito sensorial. ¿Qué hace el Arte por nosotros? Da forma y hace visibles nuestras emociones y, al hacerlo, les atribuye este sello de eternidad que llevan todas las obras que, a través de una forma particular, saben encarnar el universo de los afectos humanos.

"La elegancia del erizo", Muriel Barbery

Sarkisian65♥.

Hoy, esa gran mujer llamada Cherilyn Sarkisian cumple años. Si bien hace pocos meses que la conozco "oficialmente", puedo decir que mi admiración ha crecido considerablemente.
Podría estar (y de hecho a veces estoy) horas escuchándola.
Hoy, hace sesenta y cino añazos que esta gran artista vino al mundo.
So we say...
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
We all wish you, our dear Cher
Happy birthday to you
♥.

Dalià♥

Thank you.

She couldn’t have done it. She couldn’t have told him that things.

That he didn’t worth her?

For God’s sake, it was she the one that didn’t worth him!

She had to apologize.

So there she went, with the red face and swollen eyes, to the place where he and Björn composed their precious melodies in Stockholm.

She knocked the door.

-Yes?-asked him, with a cold voice.

-It’s me.-answered a timid voice in the outside.

He didn’t answer.

They had have the fight only some hours ago, but the mood was still unfriendly, at least for Benny.

The door opened, and Frida entered, doubtful.

-Eeer… Benny, I wanted… I wanted to talk to you.-she said.

-Oh. So, talk.-he said, shortly.

-I wanted… Oh, Benny, I wanted to apologize. I’ve been totally stupid. It’s me the one doesn’t worth you, really! In fact, I don’t know why you still in love with me. I mean, I’m jealous, I’m proud, I’m…

She wanted to continue talking, but Benny’s soft kiss silenced her.

When they went away, Benny looked at her, and put away the tears of her green eyes.

-Thank you.-she said, smiling.

-Why?

-For existing.

Dalià♥

Heartache.

Silencio.

Nada más que silencio.

Era lo único que quedaba en aquella habitación.

“Te quiero.”

Sus últimas palabras se desvanecían en el aire, se desvanecían como mis silenciosas lágrimas.

Nada quedaba ya de él, nada de aquel que había sido mi amor.

Los recuerdos me invadieron de repente, todos a la vez, como pequeñas avalanchas.

Nuestras últimas caricias entremezcladas con el primer beso, aquellas noches en vela en las que nos lo confesábamos todo, en las que una mirada valía más que mil palabras…

Todo mezclado en un vaivén de emociones, carcajadas con sollozos, sonrisas con lágrimas, una vida entera ante mis ojos.

Aquellos años que lo habían sido todo para mí partidos a la mitad, rotos para siempre.

Sus ojos azules habían perdido ya toda su luz, aquella luz con la que siempre me miraba, aquella luz que me hacía reír y llorar de emoción. Decidí cerrárselos, quería dejarle dormir. Al fin de al cabo, necesitaba descansar después de todo aquello…

Su piel de seda quedaba inerte, aún con las marcadas huellas de mis dedos, que tan incansablemente la habían acariciado pidiendo más, más y más..

“Estoy poseída por el fuego que has prendido”, me repetía una y otra vez, incesantemente, cada vez que estaba o pensaba en él.

Cada vez que lo hacía, cada vez que se acercaba, las llamas se reavivaban, despertando a mi verdadero yo.

Despertando a una criatura desesperada, desesperada por obtener más, posesiva y ansiosa.

Sólo él conocía a esa criatura que yo contenía, esa criatura diabólica y angelical al mismo tiempo.

Comencé a acariciar sus mejillas muertas

¿Cómo podría sobrevivir?

Llevaba haciéndome esa pregunta más de 6 meses.

Si ya me ponía histérica cuando se ausentaba 10 minutos, ¿qué pasaría ahora, que se había ido para siempre?

¿Qué haría?

¿Saldría de la habitación, llorando desconsoladamente, anunciando su prematura muerte, o simplemente esperaría hasta que entraran a ver qué pasaba?

Finalmente, me decanté por la segunda opción. Quería disfrutar de mis últimos minutos junto a él, aunque supiera perfectamente que nunca volvería a sentirme como cuando estaba con él.

Aunque…

Claro… Había una solución. Llevaba pensando en ello desde que conseguí asumir que algún día se iría, pero nunca lo había hecho en profundidad.

Estaba demasiado ocupada disfrutando lo último que me quedaba de él.

Pero había llegado el momento.

El momento de tomar la decisión.

Pensé en lo que dejaba… Y en lo que ganaba.

Y todo resultó a mi favor.

Abrí el cajón de mi mesita de noche, y saqué los somníferos que llevaba usando desde que me enteré de su enfermedad.

Algunas noches era preferible pasarlas en el maravilloso mundo de los sueños.

Con cuidado, me eché sobre la cama, a su lado: el lado que me correspondía.

Puse mi cabeza sobre su pecho frío, enlacé mi mano con la suya.

Abrí el bote.

No recuerdo cuantas cogí, si 5, si 6.

Sólo recuerdo que me las tragué todas a la vez.

Todo empezó a darme vueltas.

El contorno de sus ojos empezó a parecerme borroso, y su azul cielo se convirtió en un torbellino.

Cerré los ojos, quería mantener su imagen perfecta en mi cabeza.

Pensé en los momentos que había vivido junto a él.

Con una sonrisa en los labios, me dejé llevar por aquella sensación que me llamaba.

 
 
Dalià♥

Welcome to Burlesque

¡Hola! Soy Dalia, y en este blog voy a poner un poco de todo. Textos míos, recomendaciones, extractos de libros, letras de canciones, vídeos... ¡Vamos, de todo! También hablaré de personajes (ya sean reales o no) que despiertan en mí admiración, etc.
En fin...
¡QUE COMIENCE EL ESPECTÁCULO!

Dalià♥