Hugo Salvado

People are living a partially digital life. More often than not, with no correspondence to their real life. Digital ‘alter-egos’ aplenty.

Everyone is entitled to their own space, their own time.

“In a constant daydream, I have you within reach, You tell me you can’t stay, but you remain closeby… Now silence reigns, As words remain… The illustration of my absent pain. With no sense of frailty, (yet) in an underlying outreach, One might think of arrogance, but not you and I… Something has begun, (When) both feel undone. […]

We don’t know people. We don’t know them in an intimate way.

Two people slowly cross paths on a corridor. They briefly glance and smile, exchange some sort of cordial “how do you do” words, the only words they have ever said to each other before.

Women reason. They ponder. Men… err, not as much.

When a friend experiences woman-related pain and trauma, men reveal themselves as the caring, considerate, mindful human beings that they are (and that, more often than not, they hide from the society who labels them as “that”).

I want to write and perform with other people. In music, in life.

When damage is caused by someone who is not present. And/or who acts solely in pursuit of self interest.

It was a whole year of rehearsing, several mini-concerts, a few lineup changes, an intense experience as lead vocalist, making a new friend, pushing Bismarck forward.

The outbreak begun. It is scheduled into 10 steps.