Change - KT Tunstall

Puedo llorar mis ojos con esta canción. I can really cry my eyes out with this song.

The wind is cold tonight
Or so I am told
I don't really know
And as I kill my life
There's nothing left to show
How does that blow hit you?
And if I change am I denying what was said?
If I remain the same
am I creating greater problems instead?

Do you ever think you're being thought about?
Do you still believe we need to sort things out?
Does it matter now
All those things we said
I want to know can I still creep into your bed at night?
Leave your head alone

Well, the wind is cold tonight
Or so I am told
I don't really know, no
And as I kill my life
There's nothing left to show
How does that blow hit you?
And if I change am I denying what was said?
If I remain the same
am I creating greater problems instead?

Do you ever think you're being thought about?
Do you still believe we need to sort things out?
Does it matter now
All those things we said
I want to know can I still creep into your bed at night?
Leave your head alone

Clear as water itself

I'm trying to write this en English, and then a word or two in Spanish. An experience such as this must be verbalized, restructured, des-controlada.
How can you start to put into words what cannot be named? That which you can't really pin down in a single sentence, a word, a name to give, el otorgamiento de un nombre a aquello que no puede ser definido, nombrado, enunciado.

How can one feeling create, by itself, a new existence? It feels like spinning a wheel, until the motion drives you sensless. Mad. You feel no gravity whatsoever. Ya no eres tú mismo. Dejas de existir como persona y caes a un punto del que hay un retorno, pero éste ya no es bienvenido. Te absorbe el dejar de ser tú. You feel numbness creeping into you, and there is no hope to go back, no desire to feel anything flowing through you. You dry completely, like a river that has waited enough for a rain that never comes and never remembers for whom it was destined for.

Sin sentido. Un regreso sin sentidos: ya ninguna sensación impera aquí. Perderse en el viaje es más fácil que llegar a este punto. Y habrá quienes quieran regresar por esa misma senda, y volver a perderse en el viaje, en el placer de perder todos los sentidos al tiempo. Dejar que nada fluya. O mejor, que todo se concentre en un solo punto, hasta estallar. Hasta saber que todo lo que se hizo se llevó a cabo por un impulso, al que ya no podemos controlar. The impulse of acting is no longer ours: it belonged only to itself, and we were too foolish to create the contrary feeling inside our own minds.

In a word? Numb. That is what the body feels. And the mind? In my case, gratitude. The moment itself goes on forever: the feeling remained inside me long enough for me to name it, to give it space inside my skin, to know it for what it is. A burst, a flickering flame. A word to be spelled with an Open mOuth.

Y un cuerpo agradecido y descansado. Y una sed que no se sacia, infinita.
Y el placer de conocerlo, y la sangre que fluyó espesa hasta hacernos ver la luz de ese descubrimiento (hasta llegar a todos los puntos posibles de sensación, y matarlos con su flujo), y el placer que se esparció, infinito, por entre ella misma.

An open body. An unchenchable thrist. A pleasure of never ending greetings that will strech on, and the blood that flows and kills with her own movement, that bears light even in these dark places. The infinite pleasure.

I still don't understand why I cried so much that night. What was so wrong with me before? Why had I denied myself the chance of meeting and greeting my own self? I wasn't ready. I had too much control. And now I want to lose it: to lose myself within no one else's arms, or unattainable wishes and desires, but my own.
I am my own woman. I am enough for myself.

Ya mi cuerpo no le pertenecerá a nadie más sino a mi propia sangre, la que matará con su propio flujo. A mi piel, que no será trofeo sino refugio. A mis marcas, que serán solo mias, porque soy yo quien las lleva impresas. Y quien rehusa entregarlas, por voluntad inarrenable, por los siglos de los siglos. O hasta que la sangre deje de matar.

What experience did I verbalize?
¿Qué logre verbalizar?