As confidências sabem melhor no escuro e em sítios estranhos.
Partilhar momentos intensos à luz das palavras...

Falar

Confidências
Escuro
Partilha
Conhecer melhor
Laços
Olhar
Sítios estranhos
Tempo
Foi-se.

Jenny Holzer

The mist

Uma noite de nevoeiro...

De novo... o início de um mundo cheio de Possibilities... ;)

Boa Sorte

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É só isso
Não tem mais jeito
Acabou, boa sorte

Não tenho o que dizer
São só palavras
E o que eu sinto
Não mudará

Tudo o que quer me dar
É demais
É pesado
Não há paz

Tudo o que quer de mim
Irreais
Expectativas
Desleais

That's it
There is no way
It's over, Good luck

I have nothing left to say
It's only words
And what l feel
Won't change

Tudo o que quer me dar Everything you want to give me
É de mais It too much
É pesado It's heavy
Não há paz There is no peace

Tudo o que quer de mim All you want from me
Irreal Isn't real
Expectativas Expectations
Desleais

Mesmo, se segure
Quero que se cure
Dessa pessoa
Que o aconselha

Há um desencontro
Veja por esse ponto
Há tantas pessoas especiais

Now even if you hold yourself
I want you to get cured
From this person
Who poisoned you

There is a disconnection
See through this point of view
There are so many special people in the world
so many special people in the world in the world
All you want
All you want

Tudo o que quer me dar Everything you want to give me
É demais It's too much
É pesado It's heavy
Não há paz There is no peace

Tudo o que quer de mim All you want from me
Irreais isn't real
Expectativas Expectations
Desleais

Tudo o que quer me dar Everything you want to give me
É demais It's too much
É pesado It's heavy
Não há paz There is no peace

Tudo o que quer de mim All you want from me
Irreais isn't real
Expectativas Expectations
Desleais

Now we're Falling, falling, falling, falling
into the night into the night
Falling, falling, falling, falling
into the night um bom encontro é de dois

Now we're falling, falling, falling, falling

into the night into the night
Falling, falling, falling, falling into the night

Vanessa da Mata & Ben Harper

CMYK

"O orgulho"
Hoje voltei a cheirar o Natal. :)

Cheiro de Natal

O ar gélido da noite, sob a iluminação alaranjada e os passeios molhados. Uma brisa de aromas a pães adocicados e delícias invernais cortam a chuva.

18 Novembro de 2007, 23:07

Li dois bigos, chorei e fui dormir. :)*

Manhattan Skyline

Kings of Convenience – Manhattan Skyline
We sit and watch umbrellas fly
I'm trying to keep my newspaper dry
I hear myself say
My boat's leaving now
So we shake hands and cry
Now I must wave goodbye
Wave goodbye, wave goodbye
Wave goodbye, wave goodbye

You know I don't want to cry again
I'll never see your face again
I don't want to cry again

We leave to their goodbyes
I've come to depend on the look in their eyes
My blood's sweet for pain
The wind and the rain brings back words of a song
And they sing wave goodbye
Wave goodbye, wave goodbye
Wave goodbye, wave goodbye

You know I don't want to cry again
I'll never see your face again
I don't want to cry again

So I read to myself
A chance of a lifetime to see new horizons
On the front page a black and white picture of
Manhattan Skyline

Momento

Num bar, na mesa do canto escuro, a beber um copo.

Numa rua, iluminados pelo candeeiro alto e de cor alaranjada.

Num dia de chuva torrencial, descobertos.

Numa estação de comboios, com o vento a arrastar folhas.

Numa saída à tarde com os amigos.

Numa escolha.
A sós.

Casualidade.

Momento.

Frente a frente. Imóveis, duas pessoas se olham.
(a ouvir Love You More, de Alexi Murdoch)

Hoje cheirei o vento

Hoje cheirei o vento.

Não era nada de mais, nem cheirava a nada. Cheirava a vento. Mas hoje soube-me diferentemente. Hoje soube-me à liberdade e a apatia de quando era nova e tinha tempo para não fazer nada. Tempo para parar, pasmar e ver o tempo passar sem me preocupar com isso ou com as minhas actividades. Agora já não penso no vento. Penso no que tenho para fazer. Hoje cheirei o vento e soube-me à melancolia lenta mas cheia de prazer de ser criança, mesmo num dia cinzento.

Soube-me bem. Soube-me ao nada.

Hoje cheirei o vento e não cheirei nada.

Checkmate

wallmate
floormate
doormate
windowmate
garagemate
housemate
roofmate
meowmate
mymate

checkmate...

Amores

Vivemos perseguidos por tudo mas do tudo vou falar só do amor. O amor persegue-nos. Ficamos obcecados pelo amor, a desesperar para que os outros gostem de nós, desesperar para que sejamos escolhidos por aquela pessoa especial, desesperar para que olhem para nós e continuem a olhar. O amor rodeia-nos e consome-nos. Desde pequenos que queremos amar e ser amados. Amar a nossa família, amar os nossos amigos, ter um namorado/a, dar um beijinho, o primeiro beijinho, dar um abraço, receber um abraço, receber carícias, viver junto com alguém, casar, ter filhos... Não paramos de pensar no amor. Em nós. Somos todos egoístas do amor. (Não poderia ser de outra forma). E depois, existe todo o tipo de amor. O amor verdadeiro, o amor amigável, o amor correspondido, o amor não correspondido, o amor de conveniência, o amor da família, o amor mundial, o amor a um desconhecido, o amor de beneficiência, o amor que desaparece, o amor que surge do nada, a paixão, o adorar, o gosto de ti, o fraquinho, o amor ilegal, o amor impossível, o amor por alguém que não deveríamos amar, o amor que não queremos receber daquela pessoa, o amor que se vai com a mais leve e breve brisa e o amor que nem com o sopro mais forte voa... Amores justos e injustos, amores feios e bonitos, amores duros e leves, amores bem-vindos e mal-vindos. Amores.

L'Art Nouveau

L'importance organique, la beauté, le culte féminin...

Qu'est que c'est plus beau que l'art nouveau?

;) ihihihihih

Fade to Grey

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One man on a lonely platform
One case sitting by his side
Two eyes staring cold and silent
Show fear as he turns to hide

Ah, we fade to grey
Ah, we fade to grey

Feel the rain like an English summer
Hear the notes from a distant song
Stepping out from a back shop poster
Wishing life wouldn't be so long Un homme dans une gare isolée
Une valise a ses cotés
Des yeux fixes et froids
Montre de la peur lorsqu'il
Se tourne pour se cacher

Ah, we fade to grey
Sent la pluie comme un été Anglai
Entends les notes d'une chanson lointain
Ah, we fade to gre
Sortant de derriere d'un poste
Espérant que la vie ne fut aussi longu

Nouvelle Vague

Episódio VI - Harmonious Silence

They were about fifteen people.
She was in a Carnival.
She was with her friends.
The friends that he didn't knew. The friends he never wanted to know.
She was smiling. Having some fun.
And then he appears.

She turns around, still smiling with her friends.
She sees him and she stops.

The smile faints away.
She walks at him, or he walks at her. They don't know. Time and Space are too confusing for them.

He says it's over.
She shakes her head.
No.
No.
No. No. No. NO. NO!
It wasn't her fault although she felt it was. It wasn't he's either. (Who was it, then?)
She does not say a word. Everything is in her head, waiting to burst.
Burst into shouts, burst into tears...

Her eyes are red.
It was almost. Almost.

He looks at her.
He doesn't want to brake up too.

She looks at him and...

He leaves.
With large steps, he leaves.

Now, with large steps, he left.
She thinks, or doesn't think because she's too busy with shock to deal with time, space and feelings.

She doesn't move.

Her friends were watching.
She looked at them and they looked at her.

She turned her back at them and walked into the beach.
Everything was glowing. far away, with the lights of the diversions.

She steps the sand. It was cold. It was night. Dark night.
A music plays, in the background. It was her brake up soundtrack.

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She walks a little more, into the ocean but she freazes on the way.

She falls on her knees, with her back straight and her eyes wide open.
A slight breeze came from the back.

One of her friends come closer. It was a girl. She sat next to her. Both in deep silence.
They hold hands.

After a while, another person came along. It was a boy. Taller and older then her. He sat next to her.

Then, really slowly, they had lain down. Looking at the sky. Looking at the deep, dark blue.

In the end, they all came along.
All in perfect and harmonious silence.
And they stood there. Lying next to each other. Holding hands. In the cold sand. On a deep, dark blue night. Looking at the sky with they're eyes wide open.

In a perfect, sad and harmonious silence.

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Nostalgia:
do Gr. nostós, regresso + álgos, dor

substantivo comum, feminino, singular

melancolia,

abatimento profundo de tristeza,

causado pelas saudades do lar ou da pátria.

clip

indeed, so simple...

Perdi-me

Grito

porque
já não sei

(o que é)

esperar...

Companheira de viagem

Ontem, a caminho do departamento, fiz uma nova amiga a quem dei o nome de Sally.
Sally, a gaivota bebé. :)