Revolveram-se os fundos dos armários, encontraram-se slides bolorentos e depois apareceu isto!!
18.10.05
12.10.05
I had a glimpse of him tonight
Dreaming
Saw him dying on my arms
He told me life was good, he'd never forget my pink pyjamas even in the place where he was just to go.
He'd never forget.
He's old and is dying on my arms
It's the only pain in the world
He's swiming there,
The only pain, The only tears
Windy days and open windowsBirds come in and smash against the walls
Red paint, red blood drops in the floor
Red blood drops from my veins.
Blood.
...
Dreaming
Saw him dying on my arms
He told me life was good, he'd never forget my pink pyjamas even in the place where he was just to go.
He'd never forget.
...
Wind is a wave...
Wind is a wave...
He's old and is dying on my arms
Huge waves with the strength you stole me
It's the only pain in the world
He's dying on my arms
He's swiming there,
But isn't able to see
MeThe only pain, The only tears
Wind blows in your curls...
Windy days and open windows
Red paint, red blood drops in the floor
Red blood drops from my veins.
Blood.
...
And it's raining but feels good
Um copo do chá branco castanho de ontem e uma aspirina, 2 horas a instalar programas e a descobrir as versões mais recentes das cópias, ficheiros, dados, tralhas...
Voilá!
Está iniciada oficialmente o período de escrita de coisas ciêntíficas de importância enorme!
8.10.05
"Your lips speak a joy
But your eyes tell a sorrow"
Everything's pretty stupid!!!
I like non sense... but not this much!!
I'm able to cry and laugh, to feel happy and miserable...
at the same tiny minute!
What a richness of emotions this is...
(Being ironic it's a wonderful thing in these moments. I wasn't able to laugh at me and I would be deadly sad by this time. I like to be friend of myself, todos os dias quando acordo sorrio para o espelho, mas nos últimos tempos a imagem devolvida não me convence...)
I've been flying around the city carrying myself through peaceful places... sunsets... salt mountains... foamy waves in the beach... far street lights in the dusk.
It's like I'm 2 people now, and I have to take care of this fragile part of me. If she cries I've to sing, If she's angry we go for a jogging, if she's extremely sad we just lay down on the sofa with the most beatiful music... she's so weak and I've to be the strong one. She falls in love with boys that look like girls, I've to tell her they are gay, she follows strangers in the streets... She wants to run away, go for the mountains, for horse riding in the forest, go in a train till Paris, I've to remenber her the T word, thesis to write ;)
Today we pass through an art exhibition where colored stones were shown in a row in the wall. Public is suposed to write around the stones feelings that come out with it. She wrote next to a electric blue stone-piece of art:
"se não me tivesses magoado TANTO serias assim: um pedaço de AZUL BRILHANTE na minha vida".
I stared at her/me, myself/whatever without understanding what a hell I/she real feel(s).
...
Haven't I concluded yet that everything happens for a reason and being dumped was, for a thousand of reasons I can´t remember now, the best thing it could have happened?
Hum.
It annoys me be writing in english but it seems that otherwise I wouldn't be able to write so much... it's like I can pretend this is just a literary exercise...
What in fact is a fantastic idea... let dreams be my reality now!!
Everything's pretty stupid!!!
I like non sense... but not this much!!
I'm able to cry and laugh, to feel happy and miserable...
at the same tiny minute!
What a richness of emotions this is...
(Being ironic it's a wonderful thing in these moments. I wasn't able to laugh at me and I would be deadly sad by this time. I like to be friend of myself, todos os dias quando acordo sorrio para o espelho, mas nos últimos tempos a imagem devolvida não me convence...)
I've been flying around the city carrying myself through peaceful places... sunsets... salt mountains... foamy waves in the beach... far street lights in the dusk.
It's like I'm 2 people now, and I have to take care of this fragile part of me. If she cries I've to sing, If she's angry we go for a jogging, if she's extremely sad we just lay down on the sofa with the most beatiful music... she's so weak and I've to be the strong one. She falls in love with boys that look like girls, I've to tell her they are gay, she follows strangers in the streets... She wants to run away, go for the mountains, for horse riding in the forest, go in a train till Paris, I've to remenber her the T word, thesis to write ;)
Today we pass through an art exhibition where colored stones were shown in a row in the wall. Public is suposed to write around the stones feelings that come out with it. She wrote next to a electric blue stone-piece of art:
"se não me tivesses magoado TANTO serias assim: um pedaço de AZUL BRILHANTE na minha vida".
I stared at her/me, myself/whatever without understanding what a hell I/she real feel(s).
...
Haven't I concluded yet that everything happens for a reason and being dumped was, for a thousand of reasons I can´t remember now, the best thing it could have happened?
Hum.
It annoys me be writing in english but it seems that otherwise I wouldn't be able to write so much... it's like I can pretend this is just a literary exercise...
What in fact is a fantastic idea... let dreams be my reality now!!
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