Tuesday, December 31, 2013

- Esquece isso
e julgava esquecido, apareceu-me sem querer, a quantidade de tralha, sepultada na gente, que ressuscita afirmando
- Eis-nos cá
trazendo pegada a ela mais ruínas consigo


António Lobo Antunes, Não é Meia Noite Quem Quer
quanto mais se bate no fundo mais ele baixa, mamã, baixa tão fundo o fundo que não o enxergamos como não nos enxergamos a nós



António Lobo Antunes, Não é Meia Noite Quem Quer
I lost my faith in the kindness of angels



a Jigsaw (*)

Saturday, December 21, 2013




And it hurts, man it really hurts
To know you’re a crow
when you should have been a hummingbird


a Jigsaw

Saturday, December 14, 2013

My heart has turned to stone
What if my heart has gone
The world is weary, tired enough
I need help to hold this love

Polly Jean Harvey (*)

Friday, December 13, 2013

tongue tied




Why don't you ask me
How long I've been waiting
Set down on the road
With the gunshots exploding
I'm waiting for you
In the gloom and the blazing
I'm waiting for you

I sing like a slave I know
I should know better
I've learned all my lessons
Right down to the letter
And still I go on like this
Year after year
Waiting for miracles
And shaking with fear

Why don't you answer
Why don't you come save me
Show me how to use
All these things
That you gave me
Turn me inside out
So my bones can save me
Turn me inside out

You've come this close
You can come even closer
The gunshots get louder
And the world spins faster
And things just get further
And further apart
The head from the hands
And the hands from the heart

One thing that's true
Is the way that I love him
The earth down below
And the sky up above him
And still I go on like this
Day after day
Still I go on like this

Now I've said this
I already feel stronger
I can't keep waiting for you
Any longer
I need you now
Not someday
When I'm ready
Come down on the road
Come down on the road

My name, my name
Nothing is the same
I won't go back
The way I came


Lhasa de Sela

Thursday, December 05, 2013

Werner's last blues to blockbuster




In the palm of my hand
An empire summoned
And as it was born
All the substance crumbled
It was a vain attempt
At the meaning of life
And I should have better ways
Of spending my time


Tuesday, December 03, 2013

stories we tell

When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It's only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else.


Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

(*)
trailer Stories We Tell

"my anger is a storm with no rain"*




* David Eugene Edwards (?)

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

metal heart



How selfish of you
To believe in the meaning of all the bad dreaming

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

"um gato não se tem, aceita ser nosso contemporâneo e é tudo"*

B.
























*António Lobo Antunes, Não é Meia Noite Quem Quer

da zanga

Sem máscara, de coração aberto, palavra atrás de palavra, as vezes que foram precisas... para chegar a entendimento nenhum.
Haverá, realmente, coisa mais difícil do que explicar o óbvio?

Thursday, November 14, 2013



If someone offers you some sugar
You should eat it


Bill Callahan

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

And the darkness sleeps
Cushioning the heartbeat

David Sylvian

Sunday, November 10, 2013

classificado

procura-se: reconhecimento do ser.

"trade you my unhappily ever after"


You run to the gate
but you'll be marked late
it's for your own good
it's for your own good

You're likely to make
the grandest mistakes
you suffer alone
in the skin and the bones

Let's sharpen those
new sets of arrows
for the next generation
of playground martyrs

And joining the game
of intolerable shame
'cause everyone shares
innocence of their fathers

School bell rings
single file in
trade you my
unhappily ever after

So bring out those things
to hammer the wings
of the next generation 


David Sylvian
(See more at: http://www.davidsylvian.net/releases/tracks-poems/63-tracks-live/1139-playground-martyrs-live-occurrence-of-slope.html#sthash.mZGOcbF7.dpuf)

Wednesday, November 06, 2013

Monday, November 04, 2013



It's the wrong time and the wrong place
Though your face is charming, it's the wrong face
It's not her face, but such a charming face
That it's all right with me

It's the wrong song in the wrong style
Though your smile is lovely, it's the wrong smile
It's not her smile, but a lovely smile
And it's all right with me

You can not know how happy I am we met
I'm strangely attracted to you
There's someone I'm trying so hard to forget
Don't you want to forget someone too?

And it's the wrong game and the wrong chips
Though your lips are tempting, it's the wrong lips
They're not her lips, but such tempting lips
That it's all right with me

(...)


Cole Porter

Sunday, November 03, 2013

[so fuckin' broken, I am.]

"you'll soon forget the tune that you play"

The kiss don't know
What the lips will say

(...)

Time is just memory
mixed in with Desire
That's not the road it is
Only the map...I say
gone just like matches


Tom Waits (*)

Saturday, November 02, 2013

What if I had stood there at the end
(...)
Would that have been a suitable goodbye?



Bill Callahan (*)

Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm
Your head upon the pillow
Like a sleepy golden storm.
Yes, many loved before us
I know that we are not new,
In city and in forest
They smiled like me and you,
But now it's come to distances
And both of us must try,
Your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.

Leonard Cohen (*)

Friday, November 01, 2013

"Good plans are made by hand"


And each day I looked out on the land
And I wondered what all was gone
Until I saw it was lucky old me
How could I run without losing anything?
How could I run without becoming lean?
(...)
And now I know you must reap what you sow
Or sing.


Bill Callahan

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Note to self

With trembling hand I turned toward her
And pushed the hair out of her eyes
The kitten jumped back to her lap
As I sat sadly by her side

Then she drew the curtains down
And said, "When will you ever learn
That what happens there beyond the glass
Is simply none of your concern?
God has given you but one heart
You are not a home for the hearts of your brothers

And God does not care for your benevolence
Anymore than he cares for the lack of it in others
Nor does he care for you to sit
At windows in judgement of the world He created
While sorrows pile up around you
Ugly, useless and over-inflated"

Nick Cave (*)

Friday, October 25, 2013

Darkest Birds



Here come the darkest birds
To burst the bubble
End of a perfect day
Head full of trouble

Here come the darkest birds
All tar and feathers
Why did none of them dream of trying
To make things better?

Those are the mimicking kind
They are, they are
I number myself among them
The furthest star

And this is the road I walked on
When I shot you down
All words of forgiveness useless
They won't help me now
And I should've been there for you
When you called my name
I promise to tread more lightly
Though what's gone is gone
It's such a shame

Here come the darkest birds
They've got their reasons
All their pretty colours are gone
Washed out of season

Those are the soaring kind
They are, they are
I number yourself among them
The brightest star

And this is the road I walked on
When I shot you down
All words of forgiveness useless
They won't serve me now
And I should've been there for you
When you called my name
I promise to tread more lightly
Though what's done is done
It's such a shame

The Banality Of Evil
I've got me a badge
A bright shiny badge
I'm painting the crest in yellow and blue

I've got me a club
An exclusive club
It doesn't include a place for you

Hey?..hello neighbour
Hey?..hello neighbour, right you are

It's in the way that you walk
All of the changes, all the mistakes
In the demands you constantly make

It's in the way that you grieve
All of the loss
You don't know when you're better off
Or at what cost
You've got it good


David Sylvian

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Gone For Good



(...)
I'm never going to dig out your picture
I'm never going to look you up someday
Life is very short
You don't love me anymore
So I'm never going to see you again
I'm never going to write you a letter
Never going to call you on the phone
I'm never going to drive by your house
I'm never going to catch you coming outside
Never going to walk up your walk
And ring your bell
And feel you fall into my arms
(...)

Mark Sandman

Thursday, October 17, 2013

custa-me tocar nas pessoas (...) não é que não me apeteça, há alturas em que me apetece mas se tocasse dissolvia-me nelas e não tornava a ser eu



António Lobo Antunes, Não é Meia Noite Quem Quer
S.

(...) há pessoas que demoram tanto tempo a deixar-nos, o corpo vai-se mas os olhos permanecem ali, iguais aos cachorros largados longe que regressam sempre, não zangados, humildes, abre-se a porta e não se atrevem a entrar, molhados de chuva (...)



António Lobo Antunes, Não é Meia Noite Quem Quer

Friday, October 11, 2013

A estrada é longa

Foi emocionalmente brutal. Não houve célula neste corpo que saísse incólume.
No silêncio interior - que mantenho circunscrito - basta o múrmurio do teu nome para que a reacção seja imediata, visceral, carregada de lágrimas.

(*)

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

"Every corner abandoned too soon"



Your confusion
My illusion
Worn like a mask of self-hate
Confronts and then dies
Don't walk away

People like you find it easy
Naked to see
Walking on air
Hunting by the rivers
Through the streets
Every corner abandoned too soon
Set down with due care
Don't walk away in silence

Ian Curtis

Tuesday, October 01, 2013

"We grew a flower in the desert, we grew terrified"



[...]

You cried wolf
I tracked one down
And let it in

There were lambs
Sure, there was blood
There were psalms to sing
You could just see the bone jut out
Penetrate the skin
Did it dispel beyond all doubt
The mess we’re in?

You raised your head
I stared you down
You still don’t know how

And if you think you knew me then
You don’t know me now

I was happy
Satiated
I was satisfied


David Sylvian

Monday, September 30, 2013

"the road is dangerous"





Oh, I have learned
when things are beautiful, 
when things are beautiful...
just keep on.

Bill Callahan

Saturday, September 28, 2013

"No navigation system"




I always went wrong in the same place
where the river splits towards the sea


Bill Callahan

Friday, September 27, 2013

note to self

De qualquer maneira, a arte da espera não é uma brincadeira. É assunto bem sério, caro mortal.



Gonçalo M. Tavares, Visão nº 1073

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Apago os nove dígitos? Rasgo os despojos? Mudo o pretérito para perfeito? Faço de conta que nada se passou? A distância «aumenta as grandes paixões e cura as pequenas», mas eu já nem sei se quero sossego, esperança ou desastre.


Pedro Mexia, Lei Seca


[regressaste com o Outono e tens ocupado mais espaço do que aquele que seria razoável.]

Sunday, September 22, 2013

As palavras são objectos magros incapazes de conter o mundo.



valter hugo mãe, Visão nº 1072 [sobre A Desumanização]

Saturday, September 21, 2013

"a iminência da catástrofe é absoluta"

É a visão do terrível da beleza. A beleza está lá toda mas não nos devemos enganar com a sua opulência: a Islândia é um lugar atacante, toda ela se propõe a revolver-se, a regenerar-se, aniquilando. A maneira como congela, como degela, como arde, como entra em erupção, como inunda... Toda a calma é aparente e a iminência da catástrofe é absoluta. A perigosidade da Islândia é honesta. Nós é que somos tolos por acharmos que ela está ali a gostar de nós: somos só nós a gostar dela.

valter hugo mãe, Visão nº 1072


[seria capaz de jurar que tu foste um lugar assim... terrivelmente belo, intocável e devastador.]

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Cold discovery

Well, I can hold a woman down on a hardwood floor
Well, I can hold a woman down on a hardwood floor
And your teeth can gnash right through me
Looking for a soft place
And of this you won't soon forget
I had no soft place for you to rest
And this was your, your cold discovery
Your cold discovery

Well, I can hold a woman down on a hardwood floor
Well, I can hold a woman down on a hardwood floor
This was my, my cold discovery
My cold discovery

If you saw it for what it really was
My cold discovery
My cold discovery
My cold discovery

Bill Callahan (* &*)


(unfortunately, took you far too long to realize it.)

Monday, September 09, 2013

What if it's all just a mistake in the translation?...


Blixa Bargeld*

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

I wanna strangle the stars for all they promised me.

(*)


Nicole Blackman

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Às vezes somos nós que partimos entregando-nos aos desafios, aos outros, aos sítios... como quem procura amenizar o peso da escolha. Outras, vemo-los partir e, impotentes, resignamo-nos à ausência e ao entusiasmo em segunda mão.


Tuesday, July 30, 2013

for a while now


Alice - Isto deve ser o eterno tormento? Quer dizer que isto não tem fim?


Dança da Morte, August Strindberg

*

Sunday, July 28, 2013

"I find it remarkable that most people don't seem to see the world as being, essentially, a very sad place because I think it is."

Rowland S. Howard, Autoluminescent

"my narcotic lollipop"*



* Rowland S. Howard

Saturday, July 27, 2013

So why can't I touch it?



Well it seems so real I can see it
And it seems so real I can feel it
And it seems so real I can taste it
And it seems so real I can hear it
So why can't I touch it?
So why can't I touch it?

Buzzcocks

Saturday, July 20, 2013

I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.


Tom Waits

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

always failing to remember why



Waiting here, always failing to remember
Why we came, came, came,
I wonder why we came


You talk to me as if from a distance
And I reply with impressions chosen
From another time, time, time
From another time.

Brian Eno

Saturday, July 13, 2013

A C. e F. que não param de me espantar

Foram duas semanas pródigas em surpresas - daquelas mesmo muito boas.

(Das que nos fazem sentir pequeninos por recebermos tanto.)


Thursday, July 11, 2013

Even so, it hurts sometimes...



I recall the black days,
the blackest one
it's not the last one but it's there
and somewhere down there,
I'm smiling, still smiling,
I'm smiling from the bottom of my shapeless soul
I'm smiling, still smiling.

(...)

I recall the black days,
the cuts and the recovery from unnecessary growth
I recall these black days,
as maybe grim and villainized 
but also colourful
and somewhere down there,
I'm smiling, still smiling.


Blixa Bargeld

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

O dia teve mais horas do que devia. Teve também mais emoções do que as que cabem em 50 minutos.

Tuesday, July 09, 2013

I will return here one day 
And dig up my bones from the clay 
I buried nails and strings and hair 
And that old tooth I believe was a bear's 

I held my hand in the fire 
It burned me down to the wires 

Blood suckers hide beneath my bed 
And black fumes of skin so gently bled 
I slept with a cat on my breast 
Slowing my heart stealing my breath 

At sunrise the monkeys will fly 
And leave me with pennies in my eyes 

I will return here one day 
And dig up my bones from the clay 
I buried nails and string and hair 
And that old tooth I believe was a bear's 

At sunrise the monkeys will fly 
And leave me with pennies in my eyes

Mark Linkous*

Friday, July 05, 2013

"just teething for a foreign fallen destiny"



Now that I'm alone I feel the lonely brokeness
of all the wicked avenues I've ever sold my love on
all these moments of meekness and trembling subsided
I'm the outright abandon of this orphan child
home is on the highway living on soft bread and solace
I guess I'm waiting for nightfall or a solar eclipse
and to wake up half empty
only to be filled again with mourning
he's my evil shadow dove
my black palamito
can't break him like a diamond skull
I can't seem to do so
can't just rob him out like the
mob used to do so
like memories of porno and tearstains
and tobacco 
O it's a mini disastro
bigger than the ice age don't know if baby dinosaurs
maybe could live throught it, like indians and butterflies
what's crushed is my spirit, oh I fear it is too fragile
like fall leaves burn like paper

(...)

Oh I'm just a fall leaf something simple and shy like that
that's how my heart lies down beside the sidewalk
like an empty restaurant filled with perfume and balloons
I sit and entertain the bizarro ghosts of my soul
his name still lingers maybe lactates on my tongue
perhaps I'm just teething for a foreign fallen destiny
miserable but mine, I look like his mother
or Sophia Loren in an old fashioned movie
slow motion I cling to my child desesperate for love
one day soon my brohter died, made me remember all the
subordinate feelings I cast aside
maybe I had lied when I said I was ok
just getting along like a little song that stops to sing and say
"wild willow, windy winter won't you blow through me
my whole eternity"

Cocorosie

Thursday, June 20, 2013

do sonho

Os pés assentes na terra impedem-me de ser a acrobata que sonha.

Monday, June 17, 2013

How long are we gonna be riding?




Señor, señor, you know their hearts is as hard as leather
Well, give me a minute, let me get it together
I just gotta pick myself up off the floor
I'm ready when you are, señor.

Señor, señor, let's overturn these tables
Disconnect these cables
This place don't make sense to me no more
Can you tell me what we're waiting for, señor?

Bob Dylan
[pelo próprio]

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

If you could only stop your heart beat for one heart beat

One last black bird without a place to land
One last black bird without a place to be
Turns around in hopes to find the place it last knew rest
Oh black bird, over black rain burn
This is not where you last knew rest
You fly all night to sleep on stone
The heartless rest that in the morn, we'll be gone
You fly all night to sleep on stone, to return to the tree with too many birds
Too many birds
Too many birds

If...
If you...
If you could...
If you could only...
If you could only stop...
If you could only stop your...
If you could only stop your heart...
If you could only stop your heart beat...
If you could only stop your heart beat for...
If you could only stop your heart beat for one heart...
If you could only stop your heart beat for one heart beat.

Bill Callahan*

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Wednesday, June 05, 2013

"Pick another sad song for me, Jim."



we're all building walls,
they should be bridges
we're all building walls,
they should be bridges

(...)

So if old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind.
Let's sip a cup of kindness,
For my friends. Today's gone by.


Mickey Newbury

Saturday, June 01, 2013



On the slope of the creek, I asked her
Where are you going hiding your flashlight with your coat?
My house is all dark and lonesome, lend me that light!
She raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk
I have come to the creek, she said, to shine my flashlight on the animals in the water when it gets dark

It got darker, and I asked again if she would bring her light to my house

As there were no animals in the water. There was nothing living moving
She said, I'm going to shine it on the sky, eventually it will reach a star
I watched her shine the light uselessly into the sky

In the moonless gloom of midnight I asked her why she still held the light close to her chest

My house is all dark and lonesome, I said. Lend me your light
I need it to walk home with, she said. I can't see in the dark like a cat
I watched her light get lost among the trees and into the lights of houses

Will Oldham

Friday, May 31, 2013

Volta para o teu sítio escuro.
A caixa onde te enterrei já está no fundo das coisas imprestáveis. Fechei-te lá com as memórias do meu sonho. Mantém-te lá. Não saias só porque as noites desta cidade se fizeram contigo.



[A thousand and one nights of this
And then I will be free.]

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

It rained mackerel, it rained trout

Rudy's on the midway 
And Jacob's in the hole
The monkey's on the ladder 
The devil shovels coal
With crows as big as airplanes 
The lion has three heads
And someone will eat the skin that he sheds
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you
Well, hell doesn't want you 
And heaven is full
Bring me some water 
Put it in this skull
I walk between the raindrops 
Wait in bug house square
And the army ants
They leave nothin' but the bones
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you

There was thunder 
There was lightning
Then the stars went out
And the moon fell from the sky
It rained mackerel
It rained trout
And the great day of wrath has come
And here's mud in your big red eye
The poker's in the fire 
And the locusts take the sky
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you

Tom Waits*

Innocent When You Dream

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

"hungry mouth that feeds on the world"*


Ask anyone what sense he would preserve above all others. Most would say sight, forfeiting a million eyes in the body for two in the skull. Blind, we could live and possibly discover wisdom. Without touch, we would turn into hunks of wood.

(...) 

Windows are eyes of the house. Peer out of your prison body, others peep in. Never a one-way traffic. Seeing always implies the possibility of damaged privacy, for as eyes reveal the huge external world, our own infinite internal spaces are opened for others.

What is the fate of the eyes during sleep? They move constantly, like spectators in a theatre.

The pupils dilate during abnormal states. Drugs, madness, drunkness, paralysis, exhaustion, hypnosis, vertigo, high sexual excitement. The eye finding its ocean after the idea of oceans has ended.

Enkidu was a wild man, an animal among animals. One day a woman exposed her nakedness to him at a watering hole, and he responded. That day he left with [her] to follow the arts of civilization.

Mates are chosen first by visual appeal. Not odor, rhythm, skin. It is an error to believe that the eye caress a woman. Is a woman constructed out of light or of skin? Her image is never real in the eye, it is engraved on the ends of the fingers.

In the Ars Magna, Great Work, the Alchemist creates the world in his retort.

The eyes are the genitals of perception, and they too have established a tyranny. They have usurped the authority of the other senses. The body becomes a thin awkward stalk to support the eye on its rounds.

Why should the eyes be called windows of soul and key to deepest human communion, and touch denied as mild collisions of flesh.

The body is not the house, it is the inside of the house.
The blind copulate, eyes in their skin.
The eye is light at rest.


Jim Morrison*, Uma Oração Americana e Outros Escritos

Monday, May 20, 2013

"Can't tell the birds from the blossoms"


Describe the sky to me
And if the sky falls, mark my words
We'll catch mocking birds

Lay your head where my heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass

Tom Waits*

Saturday, May 18, 2013


My heart it's not kind
as I fast for your love

Shahryar Mazgani*

Friday, May 10, 2013

Notes of hope


(para C., F. e M. que não se deixam derrubar, mesmo quando duvidam das suas forças.)


You can never hold back spring
you can be sure 
I will never stop believing
the blushing rose that will climb
spring ahead or fall behind
winter dreams the same dream every time
baby you can never hold back spring

even though you've lost your way
the world is dreaming 
dreaming of spring
so close your eyes 
open your heart
to the one who's dreaming of you
you can never hold back spring
remember everything that spring can bring
baby you can never hold back spring

Tom Waits*


[a voltar, pouco a pouco, do mundo da mágoa e da desesperança.
You can never hold back spring*]

*Tom Waits

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Note to S.



I'll be back in a minute 
You can get it together by then
(...)
Are you the same person 
That was here before
Is it something important
Maybe not
What was it you wanted?
Tell me again I forgot.


Bob Dylan*

Monday, April 29, 2013


I've been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I'm trying to get as far away from myself as I can.
Things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can't win with a losin' hand.
Feel like fallin' in love with the first woman I meet
Puttin' her in a wheel barrow, wheelin' her down the street.
People are crazy, times are strange
I'm locked in tight, I'm out of range
I used to care, but things have changed.

Bob Dylan*

Sunday, April 28, 2013

[Precious] Memories

I don't even think that memories are real. Memories are a constant narration to yourself. It's a constant thing that makes us what we are but they are... they quite certainly never happened the way that they are memoed... in our memories.

Blixa Bargeld
*

Thursday, April 25, 2013

X & Y


There was a girl, call her animal X 
(...) 
she meets a boy, animal Y 
(...)
And she put her hand on his heart,
Right there on his heart, just for the joy of it
But his heart was lying down on the road
(...)
He was a head with no heart
(...)
She was a head with no heart


Nick Cave*

(conheço pessoas com algoritmos no lugar do coração.)

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

A lâmina não degolou o monstro, o corte superficial vai mantê-lo apenas afastado. Talvez se entretenha a pensar numa nova camuflagem para usar nas emboscadas.


Saturday, April 20, 2013

Question(s) to self

- What is left of the ideas and things you were trying to do?
- Look at every scar that I have... I am the result of all the things you have been doing (...) so the silence is sexy is not the opposite of the unbelievable noise - is the result of all the stuff that we were doing.

Blixa Bargeld*
(as a result...)

Monday, April 15, 2013


Such a shame, shame, shame
Shame, shame, shame
Shame is the shadow of love


Polly Jean Harvey
*

Friday, April 12, 2013

...


There's a house on my block
that's abandoned and cold
Folks moved out of it a
long time ago
and they took all their things
and they never came back
Looks like it's haunted
with the windows all cracked 
and everyone calls it
the house, the house where
nobody lives.

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away
Did they know what it means
Did someone's heart break
or did someone do somebody wrong?

Well the paint was all cracked
It was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch
where I stood
and the weeds had grown up
just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney
and an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever
come back to the
House where nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away
Did they know what it means
Did someone's heart break
or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone
someone to have, someone to hold
Don't trade it for silver
Don't trade it for gold
I have all of life's treasures
and they are fine and they are good
They remind me that houses
Are just made of wood
What makes a house grand
Ain't the roof or the doors
If there's love in a house
It's a palace for sure
Without love
It ain't nothin but a house
A house where nobody lives
Without love it ain't nothin
But a house, A house where
Nobody lives.

Tom Waits
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYpeZH9fNvc

Thinking of C.


Well, you build it up, you wreck it down
you burn your mansion to the ground
When there's nothing left to keep you here, when
you're falling behind in this
big blue world

Oh you got to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I'm standing right here
You got to hold on

Tom Waits*

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Tenho um oceano que rebenta em ondas violentas contra a superfície interna da pele.
Não há ciência capaz de explicar como o tecido resiste ainda.

Tuesday, April 09, 2013

Oh Nelson...


Oh my Nelson, I love you and I will love you 'till the end
But Nelson, we differ by what we call a friend

Rikarda Parasol*

Sunday, April 07, 2013

Friday, April 05, 2013


- is it morning yet?
- no, we have a couple hours left. God knows what'll happen then.

Keaton Henson*

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

unless...


You will find me waiting through spring and summer
You will find me waiting waiting for the fall
You will find me waiting for the apples to ripen
You will find me waiting for them to fall
You will find me by the banks of all four rivers
You will find me at the spring of conciousness
You will find me if you want me in the garden
unless it's pouring down with rain

Blixa Bargeld*

Monday, March 25, 2013

O registo das perdas nunca se ficará pelo algarismo 1. O das ausências temporárias ou permanentes também não.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

from the past



















When you can't find your heart but your body keeps moving
When you can't tell your life apart from your dreams
Follow the lights into the valley
Gently respond to the pull of a string

Jason Webley
[www.youtube.com/watch?v=zD95A2Foda0]

Note to self

Hoje responsabilizei-nos. A ti por não me teres cuidado como se cuida de quem se ama. A mim por me ter resignado a viver na invisibilidade.

Não me senti culpada.

(pela primeira vez em muito tempo)

It could mean anything

25/04/2012


April
How could I not have seen

April
You coming

April
How could I have worn
Inappropriate clothing

April
All that careful stepping
Rounding of my soul
And now your rain

April
I feel you leaving

I don't know what silence means
It could mean anything


April
Won't you answer me
These days just seem to crush me
Hatching, collapsing, tumbling down

April
What if I drown
I drown

April
I see you leaving
I don't know what silence means
It could mean anything
Won't you answer me

I dreamed
I dreamed
April, April
That I'm walking
That I'm watching
April
Your rain
It overcomes me


Polly Jean Harvey*

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Undone


Concussions crown was all I wore 
When my mind met the floor

Rowland S. Howard*

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

How can it be as quiet as this, this close to the edge?


F. by S.

Feels like an ending
She's winding her way towards a conclusion
That never comes
Caroline feels uncomfortably numb

She's in deep
Surrendering to the promise of sleep
Almost done
Caroline plays an audience of one

And it isn't polite
She won't even try
A problem to no one
A problem to none

How can it be as quiet as this
This close to the edge?
Caroline says she's nobody's friend

F. by S.





How can you breathe 
Embarrassed to be this far left of alone?
Caroline knows there's nobody home

It's ending
Winding its way towards a conclusion
Nearly done
Caroline knows there's nothing to come

When in doubt
She wanted to get it all down in writing
Didn't count
Better if someone else works it out

The files are deleted
No resisting at all
Already defeated 

David Sylvian*


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Friday, March 15, 2013


You paint yourself white
And fill up with noise
But there'll be something missing

Thom Yorke*

Thursday, March 14, 2013

home for a lonely heart



















Who measured the distance from the planets
Right down to your big blue spinning world
And heartbeats and tears and nervous laughter
Spilling down all over you, girl

Nick Cave*

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The cat doesn't care, she's taking bets

Since we came to be here 
the pills will not work anymore
Don't try cracking the turnstyle 
or beating down the door.
Plastic rooms with false light 
won't save us from the drums. 
Horses beat the rhythm.

Carla Bozulich*









Sinto que algo me abandona, uma velha pele, um sonho do passado…
Como dizer esta tristeza?
Florestas sem música?








Adolfo Luxúria Canibal*

Monday, March 11, 2013

there won’t be a star left untouched


Just let me sit alone in this chair, my own make believe little throne
Ah Honey and collect the thoughts that’ll help me to stand

Josh T. Pearson*

Then your old friend silence will creep back into this pettiest of all places
He’ll ask you again, “Which is better or for worse, living with me or living with all my ghosts?”

Josh T. Pearson*

Thursday, March 07, 2013


With intensity, the drop evaporates by law
In conclusion, leaving is easy
When you've got some place you need to be
I'm giving up this gig for another season
(...)
What if I had stood there at the end
And said again and again and again and again and again
An answer to every question
Riding for the feeling

Would that have been a suitable goodbye?


Bill Callahan*

Note to self


When will you ever learn
That what happens there beyond the glass
Is simply none of your concern?
God has given you but one heart
You are not a home for the hearts of your brothers

And God does not care for your benevolence
Anymore than he cares for the lack of it in others
Nor does he care for you to sit
At windows in judgement of the world He created
While sorrows pile up around you
Ugly, useless and over-inflated

Nick Cave*

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Shivers



Why so green and lonely?


In pitch dark I go walking in your landscape
Broken branches trip me as I speak
Just cause you feel it doesn't mean it's there
Just cause you feel it doesn't mean it's there
There's always a siren singing you to shipwreck 
(...)
We are accidents waiting
Waiting to happen

Thom Yorke*

Sunday, March 03, 2013

Lá estava o meu morto - e eu invisível no meio da multidão, com saudades daquele para quem já não faço sentido de forma nenhuma.



(It was a slippery slippery slippery slope)

Friday, March 01, 2013

Analisei, ponderei, exigi apenas a justa retribuição. 
Tenho a consciência tranquila.    
Então porque é que duvido no momento do confronto?
F***!!

Ingenue*

no Bairro (do amor?)
















[*]

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Stacking up hope

S.'s 50' appointment

























And I don't feel well
Oh, couldn't you tell,
From the way I touch my face?
(...)
And I ain't no Hercules
I ain't no Hercules

Keaton Henson*

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Hit-and-run

O mínimo que podias ter feito era ter enfrentado os destroços da tua escolha, sabendo que isso poderia ter salvo uma vida... com a devida assistência não teríamos amputado a confiança no sonho.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Pré-requisito

- traz a sua declaração de intenções preenchida? ah, ainda não pensou nisso?... pois, compreendo... desculpe, vamos ter que ficar por aqui. Sabe... eu já não consigo confiar. Não, uma carta de recomendação não me chega.

Monday, February 25, 2013

As cores saturadas da ilha; aquela rua a norte da península; dezenas de recantos, os intermináveis parques, a loja italiana onde bebíamos café, o gato numa janela em Kreuzberg... de forma intermitente estas imagens assombram os meus dias, e eu não sei o que fazer com elas.

*

Sunday, February 24, 2013

teachings to keep

"if we could ever remove humiliation out of our psique then we can continue to learn things (...) I said if anyone has got a problem with it, that is your problem."

Eddie Izzard

Friday, February 22, 2013

We are, 
                I say, 
                           mostly lost.

Nick Cave*

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

"Can you feel my heartbeat?"*


Who cares, who cares what the future brings?
Black road long and I drove and drove
I came upon a crossroad
The night was hot and black
(...)
Oh let the damn day break
The rainy days always make me sad

Nick Cave*


Tuesday, February 19, 2013


And some people say it's just rock'n roll 
Oh, but it gets you right down to your soul

Nick Cave

Monday, February 18, 2013

Will you? Will I?



I dreamed that we buried something down in the dirt 
outback of where we lived
something that was a secret
and now it only comes back when I sleep and dream, dream
will you wake up before you hit the ground?

Hugo Race

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Friday, February 15, 2013


All my life I failed to see
One good thing standing in front of me
(...)
Help me, help me, help me, baby, reach down and collect me

Nick Cave*


Sunday, February 10, 2013

No more*

Mantive sempre os indisponíveis por perto. Amei-os. Justifiquei-lhes tudo, até o egoísmo extremo e a pobre comunicação. Não arrombei a entrada, esperei, pacientemente, incompreensivelmente. Recolhi as migalhas. E paguei caro a entrega - a heart filled with music is not enough.

And no more do I sing of things better left untold*

Saturday, February 09, 2013

Friday, February 08, 2013

Jesus makes the flowers grow all around the scene of her collision


There's some cat on the saxophone
Laying down a litany of excuses
(...)
She lives in some forgotten song
And moves like she is zombie-strong
Breathes steady as the pendulum keeps swinging

Nick Cave*