One more time
Friday, 25 June 2010
15:16Então, no sonho, era ele lá. Justo, ontem.
O tipping point? Primeiro, ele estava idílico (bite me again, pun not intended), em um pedestal. Lindo, distante, frio, inumano. Tirando o último aspecto e a real conotação dos outros, ele estava como sempre. E o olhar dele, talvez um
I found this one later, but I guess it counts, right?
11:00Your touch magnetizing. Feels like I'm floating, leaves my body glowing.
They say "be afraid".
You're not like the others, futuristic lovers.
Different DNA, they don't understand you.
You're from a whole other world, a different dimension.
You open my eyes and I'm ready to go, lead me into the light!
Kiss me, K-K-Kiss me!
Infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison!
Take me, T-T-Take me!
Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction.
Boy, you're an alien, your touch are foreign.
It's supernatural, extraterrestrial.
You're so super sonic, wanna feel your powers, stun me with your lasers.
Your kiss is cosmic, every move is magic...
Your from a whole other world, a different dimension, you open my eyes...
And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light!
Kiss me, K-K-Kiss me!
Infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison!
Take me, T-T-Take me!
Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction.
Boy, you're an alien, your touch are foreign.
It's supernatural, extraterrestrial.
There is this transcendental, on another level, boy, you're my lucky star...
I wanna walk on your wave length, and be there when you vibrate, for you I'll risk it all... all...
Porque para entender o Turismo... você tem que ser Turista.
Thursday, 17 June 2010 19:11— Oh, não, Miss Jane. Suas palavras abriram-me os olhos.
Convenci-me de que não possuo qualidades literárias e não quero insistir – retruquei com ar ressentido.
— Pois tem de insistir – foi sua resposta (...) Lembre-se do esforço incessante de Flaubert* para atingir a luminosa clareza que só a sábia simplicidade dá. A ênfase, o empolado, o enfeite, o contorcido, o rebuscamento de expressões, tudo isso nada tem
com a arte de escrever, porque é artifício e o artifício é a cuscuta** da arte. Puros maneirismos que em nada contribuem para o fim supremo: a clara e fácil expressão da idéia.
— Sim, Miss Jane, mas sem isso fico sem estilo ...
Que finura de sorriso temperado de meiguice aflorou nos lábios da minha amiga!
— Estilo o senhor Ayrton só o terá quando perder em absoluto a preocupação de ter estilo. Que é estilo, afinal?
— Estilo é ... – ia eu responder de pronto, mas logo engasguei, e assim ficaria se ela muito naturalmente não mo definisse de gentil maneira.
— ... é o modo de ser de cada um. Estilo é como o rosto: cada qual possui o que Deus lhe deu. Procurar ter um certo estilo vale tanto como procurar ter uma certa cara. Sai máscara fatalmente – essa horrível coisa que é a máscara ...
— Mas o meu modo natural de ser não tem encantos, Miss Jane, é bruto, grosseiro, inábil, ingênuo. Quer então que escreva desta maneira?
— Pois perfeitamente! Seja como é, e tudo quanto lhe parece defeito surgirá como qualidades, visto que será reflexo da coisa única que tem valor num artista – a personalidade.
*Gustave Flaubert (1821–1880), escritor realista francês considerado um dos maiores do Ocidente.
** planta parasita.
(Monteiro Lobato, O presidente negro.)
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Tirei tudo isso de um simulado que fiz hoje - via internet.
Me sinto quase estranha em casa, de tanto tempo que fiquei na escola essa semana!
Até tinha esquecido quem eu tinha olhado na cara e quem não, ontem, aqui em casa.
Amanhã ou final de semana (oh, God, that sounds heavenly), eu cheo esse negócio do design do Blogger.
All day all day no lab da escola hoje.
b-bye
Sway by The Kooks
Saturday, 12 June 2010 16:50And do whatever you have to do, to get it out, and not become a reactionary
To hurt the ones you love,
You know you never meant to but you do.
Oh, yeah, you do...
Be whoever you have to be, I won't judge you.
And sing whatever you have to sing, to get it out and not become a recluse, about your house, come out...
I know you never meant to but you do
Oh, but you do...
Still I need your sway, cause you always pay for it
And I, and I need your soul, cause you're always soulful
And I, and I need your heart, cause you're always in the right places...
And take whatever you have to take
You know I love you.
And come however you have to come, and get it out, and get it out
Take it out on me, take it out on me
I'll give it you all, I give it you all, I give it!
I give you all! I give it you all!
Yes, I will give it you all!
I'm madder!
Tuesday, 1 June 2010 14:34
You are making me mad.
You, you make me second-guess everything, EVERY THING AROUND me is now a victim of my insecurities.
I hate you now. Two seconds later, I get obsessed. Cherish every move you make. Want to tell you to fuck you. I’m not myself anymore.
So who the fuck should I give to you? Who the heck are YOU?
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?
13:50 |
| I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right, right now. |
Anexo VIII - Insônia, a musa dos olhos arregalados. - DRAWINGS
11:00 |
| I really like this one. Nothing, special, I know, but I don't know. E de onde saiu esse título mesmo? Parece coisa do Eco. E sem data, grrrr. Vai pra junho, mesmo, para boa distribuição. |
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Here is where I'm free. Free to write, free to think. I'm all by myself, all to myself. Only me. I can shout my fucks and cry my Oh Gods. Look to my madness or say "who are you?" Today, I fell connected. Tomorrow, maybe not. Maybe I'm too worried with other things, someone is here with me. Maybe inspiration didn't hit me. My most important thoughts (to me) come to me when I'm far away from notepads and notebooks, but close to myself. That's what this is made of.
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About
We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and -- in spite of True Romance magazines -- we shall all someday look
back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely -- at
least, not all the time -- but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important,
and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your
happiness.
— Hunter S. Thompsonthe months passed by...
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June 2010,
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September 2010,
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November 2010,
December 2010,
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