And these are the loved marks and scars which will open me the doors to Heaven.”
30 setembro 2005
Sword
And these are the loved marks and scars which will open me the doors to Heaven.”
29 setembro 2005
27 setembro 2005
People
To me, those people keep on living the Same Day, always.
I have to let happen what really has to happen, so it is necessary to be open to the unexpected. Each day I’m different (…) I will not keep on thinking about what I’ve done because I want to use each and every portion of live I have left.
So I can’t plan anything important. Who plans the important things changes it all into small things. (...)
Here, I have only found normal people, polite, kind. They float between Heaven and Hell, between All and Nothing, and they seem to don’t understand it, and they live well behaved, smiling when they find someone.(...)”
26 setembro 2005
25 setembro 2005
Amazing!
and let the wrong ones in
had (thee) an angel of mercy to see me through all my sins
there were times in my life wen i was goin' insane
tryin' to walk through
the pain
When i lost my grip
and i hit the floor
yeah, i thought i could leave but couldn't get out the door
i was (not) so sick and tired
of livin' a lie
i was wishin' that i
would die!
(...)
and how high can you fly with broken wings
life's a journey not a destination
and i just can't tell just what tomorrow brings
You have to learn to crawl
before you learn to walk
but i just couldn't listen to all that righteous talk
(...)
It´s amazing! "
( tinhas razão: with the blink of an eye : ) ups)
Is there anybody out there?
Did anyone understood it now?
Who the fuck cares?
Now it's just too late...
24 setembro 2005
My rose
"(...) Ninguém pode morrer de amores por vós. Realmente, um transeunte qualquer acharia a minha rosa parecida convosco. Mas, por si só, é mais importante que vós todas, porque foi ela que eu reguei. Porque foi ela que cobri com a redoma. Porque foi ela que resguardei com o biombo. (...) Porque é a minha rosa.
With...out!
" (...) Nesta página tremo de medo.
Acredito na absolvição das cores, na sua viagem pelo branco infinito- onde não existe milagre.
É suave o que é eterno, supõe-se.
Oh, o que se interroga na mentira: que verdade, que sombras, que coragem?
A porta fecha-se; um rosto cabe onde outros rostos eram.
Quando se adensa, o vento não tem outra leitura que não seja o seu próprio sopro: diz-me quanta vida tens; dir-te-ei de que morte és capaz. (...)
O sentimento é justo, o preço é (in) justo, embora a amargura se instale circulando dentro da carne: livro miserável e estranho, valor de simbolo e de loucura.
Poro a poro, a dor é esse trabalho forçado do pensamento antes do sangue e da revolta. (...)"
(obrigado Rosy)
23 setembro 2005
22 setembro 2005
Unnamed...
"(...) Do i start writting all this down?
just let me plug you into my world
can't you help me be uncrazy?
Name this for me, heat the cold air
take the chill off of my life
and if i could i'd turn my eyes
to look inside to see what's coming
It comes alive
and i die a litle more
it comes alive
each moment here i die a litle more
Then the unnamed feeling
it comes alive
then the unnamed feeling
takes me away. "
...thee unnamed feeling...