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.