É demencial

"Errando pela baixa
Os olhos fixos num horizonte perdido
Sem uma palavra
Sem um som
(...)
Ninguém dizia nada
O silêncio
Acompanhava o olhar vazio
A dor"

Adolfo Luxúria Canibal

Não entendo se não previas os estragos, ou se és apenas insensível.

sharp razor blade as gift

(hoje o "presente" foi este... foi isto que me rasgou a pele, outra vez, e não me deixa respirar.)

What good am I if I’m like all the rest

If I just turn away, when I see how you’re dressed

If I shut myself off so I can’t hear you cry

What good am I?

What good am I if I know and don’t do

If I see and don’t say, if I look right through you

If I turn a deaf ear to the thunderin’ sky

What good am I?

What good am I while you softly weep

And I hear in my head what you say in your sleep

And I freeze in the moment like the rest who don’t try

What good am I?

What good am I then to others and me

If I’ve had every chance and yet still fail to see

If my hands are tied must I not wonder within

Who tied them and why and where must I have been?

What good am I if I say foolish things

And I laugh in the face of what sorrow brings

And I just turn my back while you silently die

What good am I?

Bob Dylan*

Push the sky away

[Acerca do novo álbum]

"Well, if I were to use that threadbare metaphor of albums being like children, then Push The Sky Away is the ghost-baby in the incubator and Warren's loops are its tiny, trembling heart-beat."

Nick Cave
http://www.nickcave.com/

Did you earn the fool's gold that you gave me?

I forgive you wanting to be free
I realize you long to wander
And I sympathize with your roving eyes
I just can't forgive your bad manners

Lhasa de Sela

The Love Song

“The Love Song must be borne into the realm of the irrational, the absurd, the distracted, the melancholic, the obsessive and the insane, for the Love Song is the noise of love itself and love is, of course, a form of madness. Whether it be the love of God, or romantic, erotic love – these are manifestations of our need to be torn away from the rational, to take leave of our senses, so to speak. Love Songs come in many forms and are written for a host of reasons, as declarations of love or revenge, to praise or to wound or to flatter – I have written songs for all of these reasons – but ultimately the Love Song exists to fill, with language, the silence between ourselves and God, to decrease the distance between the temporal and the divine.”

Nick Cave – The secret life of the love song 

Today it's a Nick day

"Jesus said, 'Wherever two or more are gathered together, I am in their midst.' Jesus said this because wherever two or more are gathered together, there is communion, there is language, there is imagination, there is God. God is a product of a creative imagination, and God is that imagination taken flight.

As a child I believed that to use the imagination was wicked. I saw my imagination as a dark room with a large bolted door that housed all manner of shameful fantasies. I could almost hear my secret thoughts bumping and scratching behind the door, begging in whispers to be let out, to be told. Back then, I had no idea that those dark mutterings were coming from God. (...)"

Nick Cave - The flesh made Word

Question to self

De que me servirá a consolação de me ter mantido fiel a mim mesma, quando as ligaduras escondem a bela merda que sobrou?

Detachment

"A child's intelligent heart can fathom the depth of many dark places, but can it fathom the delicate moment of its own detachment?"

Henry's character

Medical care needed

Não há pontos internos ou absorvíveis que o impeçam. As cicatrizes continuam a abrir, e a mágoa vai manchando a nova pele (ainda tão frágil).

I want to be a good woman

I don't want be a bad woman
And I can't stand to see you be a bad man.
(...)
And this is why I am leaving
And this is why I can't see you no more.

Cat Power

(reminder for 2 dreamy and wounded hearts)

Cloudy whiskers

B.

"A minha gata preta tem, por vezes, um enigma de pêlos brancos
(...)
A minha gata lambe-nos as madrugadas ásperas do rosto"

João Paulo Cotrim, A minha gata

Note to self

"Closer, move in closer
Closer now than
Than ever before
I doubt it that you can survive
So far from your trenches and your friends
This is where competition starts and
And all that ends

I sense a lot of tension
Loose, loose
Pull out your arsenal
Dance
(...)
By now we should know the music and the steps
Oh, me, I never asked, I never set you up
A little something for me?
A little something thrown back at me?

This is the floor, these are the rules
These are the moves
This is the room in which we dance
Close the door, say you will dance

Step into this room and dance for me
Step into this room and dance for me
Come on, lady, dance for me
Come on, come on, dance for me"

Madrugada
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mz5PJSEp_M]

"Há pessoas que demoram tanto tempo a deixar-nos."

António Lobo Antunes, Visão nº 1026

(como se fosse um boicote interno à sanidade...)

"Once you hang it on the wall / You can never take it down"

"But there's one thing you can't lose
And it's that feel
You can pawn your watch and chain
But not that feel
It always comes and finds you
It will always hear you cry
I cross my wooden leg
And I swear on my glass eye
It will never leave you high and dry
Never leave you loose
It's harder to get rid of than tattoos"

Tom Waits

(reminder for C.)

"Que humilhação ter-me tornado uma criatura estendida diante de uma pessoa de pé."

António Lobo Antunes, Visão nº 1026

just a flask trapped inside a fall

Entranhada na pele:




"she feels like a stranger has come in the night and stolen her life and left her with this
and boughs break on ebony toothaches
she is just a flask trapped inside a fall
I know you need to find what you thought you left behind in a past life
I won't question why the only light that you have you give away
I know you need to find what you thought you left behind in a past life
I won't question why the only light that you have you give away
she feels like a stranger has come in the night and stolen her life and left her with this"

Man Man

Desencontro

"Nós não somos o outro. De certa maneira, o outro está nos antípodas daqui. (...) Cada palavra que dizemos aqui é simultânea a uma palavra contrária dita pelo outro lá. A língua do outro é incompreensível. Nem parece uma língua. Até estas palavras, até esta frase incompleta. Lá, neste momento, o outro está a dizer exatamente o contrário disto, com a mesma convicção."

José Luís Peixoto, O contrário de mim está a escrever o contrário destas palavras, Visão nº 1027, 08/11/2012

Tongues out!!!

B.

Y.

B. (e o tracto digestivo quase completo!)

An old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey

"Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did
I got what I paid for now
See ya tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow
a couple of bucks from you, to go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
and I'm tired of all these soldiers here
no one speaks English, and everything's broken
and my Stacys are soaking wet
to go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

now the dogs are barking
and the taxi cabs parking
a lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me
you tore my shirt open
and I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmills I staggered,
you buried the dagger in
your silhouette window light to go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

now I've lost my St. Christopher
now that I've kissed her and the
one-armed bandit knows, and the
maverick Chinaman, and the cold-blooded signs
and the girls down by the strip tease shows go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

no I don't want your sympathy
the fugitives say that the streets aren't for dreaming now
manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories
They want a piece of the action anyhow go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

and you can ask any sailor
and the keys from the jailer
and the old men in wheelchairs know
that Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred
and she follows wherever you may go
waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll go waltzing
Matilda with me

and it's a battered old suitcase
to a hotel someplace
and a wound that will never heal
no prima donna, the perfume is on
an old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
and goodnight to the street sweepers
the night watchman flame keepers
and goodnight Matilda, too"

Tom Waits

"Hell above and heaven below"*

S.

[keeping me company]

Reminder

S.