if you open up your heart the wounds begin to heal?

"wild cats and birds of prey
the chill of night and the light of day
deep in the roots, below the trees
and the sand below the seven seas
a painful wind in heavy rain
an endless path on rough terrain
I know this journey’s got you down but
you’ve almost made it, don’t give up now

every doubt in your mind will disappear
and then you’re here"

cfcf

go out and let stories happen to you, stay in and envy the stories of others

o ano era 1912. john estava cansado de pegar os mesmos peixes na mesma margem da mesma curva do mesmo riacho. depois de conseguir o suficiente para o jantar (o que não era muito, já que não jantava acompanhado havia mais de 30 meses), j. resolveu devolver os peixes (ainda vivos) para o riacho. tirou as calças e foi nadar com eles. fazia tempo que não tomava decisões que certamente prejudicariam o seu futuro de alguma forma, mesmo que insignificante. aliás, nunca havia tomado decisões que prejudicassem o seu futuro, mesmo sem ninguém para lembrá-lo de suas obrigações senão ele mesmo, desde que seus pais morreram eletrocutados na maior tempestade que rhode island viu no século xix. john havia construído uma carreira profissional bem sucedida como secretário da central telefônica, mas agora que estava velho (completara 30 anos na última terça-feira) seus dedos não serviriam mais para conectar os cabos que satisfaziam os desejos de fofoca dos cidadãos. duas semanas se passaram desde que fora demitido, tempo demais para pensar, que transformou j. num homem confuso e sedento por um período sabático prolongado. nadar no riacho imaculado da pequena locktown era tudo, menos recomendável. certamente transgressor. sentia a adrenalina até nas pontas dos dedos e no couro cabeludo, como se os hormônios fortalecessem o crescimento dos cabelos para, de algum forma, se extravasar do corpo franzino de john. depois de dois segundos a sensação parou. sentia que não fora feito para isso. nascera para ser grande em coisas pequenas e exagerar apenas em emoções, como quando casou no ensino elementar e, duas semanas depois, sua esposa mudou-se para a outra costa. agora, depois do sumiço do prazer da adrenalina, começava a sensação de gelo nas pernas embaixo d'água e, associado a esse gelo, o medo que o fim do mundo estivesse ali, que qualquer coisa ou monstro, mesmo que não fosse de água doce, puxasse sua tosca existência pelas pernas. apesar do pânico do incerto e da lembrança longínqua do frio nos pés da única vez que entrou em um lago com sua mãe aos 6 anos de idade, j. sentia que agora o gelo era diferente e que até poderia ser agradável. afinal, estava desempregado, vinha de uma família de classe média e a parca herança dos pais havia sido desperdiçada nos estudos que não o salvaram da solidão. anos depois, a sensação de j. neste momento de mescla de aflição e prazer será novamente suscitada quando uma lady inglesa, cansada de um mundo onde homens fazem guerras, decidirá entrar em um riacho com pedras nos bolsos de seu casaco. john não havia pensado em pedras e isso o aliviava, pois o frio começava a ficar mais intenso do que poderia suportar. só conseguia pensar no chá quente que tomaria logo depois de voltar para sua casa. pedras no bolso do casaco ainda não pareciam a resposta para alguém que nunca aprendeu a dançar.

amanhã vai começar de novo e eu ainda vou ser igual e eu ainda vou estar preso em mim e ainda não vou saber amar e ainda vou sentir inveja do que soube chegar na superfície e ainda vou me amarrar na âncora e ainda vou tentar mudar

"you are to live and to learn to laugh. you are to learn to listen to the cursed radio music of life and to reverence the spirit behind it and to laugh at its distortions. so there you are. more will not be asked of you.

there is no reality except the one contained within us. that is why so many people live such an unreal life. they take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

when I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my moldering lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the very devil burn in me than this warmth of a well-heated room. a wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse, perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to commit outrages, to pull off the wigs of a few revered idols...

there are always a few such people who demand the utmost of life and yet cannot come to terms with its stupidity and crudeness.

how can you say that you’ve taken any trouble to live when you won’t even dance?

you are willing to die, you coward, but not to live."

hermann hesse

"talvez não amá-los demais seja a melhor prova de amor que se possa dar a determinados seres em certas ocasiões."

maría luisa bombal

"the world got younger this year.
I can barely remember my year in reverse, so I sleep in your bed
to dream your dreams about your year in reverse. who knew
I wasn’t ready to climb out of your thighs so soon?"

gregory sherl

"ignorance is bliss maybe? not entirely sure, but to me, usually asking too many questions from your partner stirs things and creates arguments. insecurity, paranoia, reasons why you my might do so. having faith proves your love however. I think this song is about learning to have faith in your partner. maybe.."

"this song kind of made me realize stuff in my relationship with my gf. Its a great song. by a great band. To me, i think its about remembering why you fell in love, and sometimes we shouldnt ask questions or why all the time. rather than asking you should always trust in what you believe. or trust that person. best band ever btw."

dearland

thank god you're up now
let's stay that way
else there'll be no mornings
and no more days

"this song means a lot to me at the moment.
i recently started at uni, and so all my old friends are all over the country, and last night, a good friend of mine stayed over, cos she was down in london to visit me and a couple of other people.
anyway, i'm completely in love with her, but haven't told her yet, cos i dunno if it would work out with being so far away from each other, or whether it'd make things awkward between us.
but i couldn't sleep last night, when she was staying over, so i spent half the night lying awake, and watching her sleep, and thinking how beautiful she looked when she was sleeping.
and it made me think of this song.
and now this song reminds me of her.
not technically anything to do with what the song means, but thats what it means to me.
i'm seeing elvis perkins in deerland on tuesday night in shephered's bush, and will almost certainly cry when he plays this song.

it's a beautiful piece of music and writing, which now holds nice memories."


I deeply love reading commentaries about lyrics

"os sentimentos humanos são confusos e mesclados; eles se compõem de grande cópia de impressões variadas que fogem à observação, e a palavra, sempre demasiadamente tosca e generalizadora, bem pode servir para designá-los mas nunca para os definir.

o amor, por uma espécie de mágica, supre as grandes recordações. todos os afetos precisam de passado: e amor cria, como por encantamento, um passado de que se faz cercar. ele nos fornece, por assim dizer, a consciência de haver vivido, durante anos, com um ser que há pouco nos era estranho. o amor não é mais do que um ponto luminoso, entretanto parece absorver todo o tempo. há poucos dias ele ainda não existia, dentro em pouco não existirá mais, contudo, enquanto existe, derrama a sua claridade tanto sobre a época que o precedeu como sobre a que deve suceder-lhe.

as circunstâncias são pouca coisa, o caráter é tudo. é em vão que se renuncia aos objetos e aos seres, ninguém pode renunciar a si mesmo. alteram-se situações, mas se transporta para cada uma delas o tormento que se queria evitar, e como o homem não se corrige mudando de lugar, só se consegue aduzir remorsos aos arrependimentos, e erros às angústias."

benjamin constant

je suis fatigué de mots écrits,

histoires qui ne sont pas les miennes.
images qui ne me représentent pas,
caractères créés par personnes qui ne sont pas conscientes de mon existence.
je veux vivre, mais j'ai arrêté d'apprendre à le faire depuis longtemps.
c'est une fausse solitude, non consolidée.
toujours partielle.
il n'y a pas de problèmes, sont souffrances imaginaires,
mais l'imagination peut aussi meurtrir.

viens changer ma vie

"honey

dip your toes in sand, dreams they often seep
lovely
make me promises you know you couldn't keep

amor

all allowed
just or now"


mais tu peux changer ma vie en amour si tu le veux

twin cabins

es tan dificil encontrar alguien

"and we know it’s a mistake to pretend
and we know it takes time to make it all the same
so we
catch that pain
make it right
so we
catch that pain
make it right
and we know this is real to take
and we know makes it more than before
so we
catch that pain
make it right
so we
catch that pain
make it right..."

helado negro

ai me u r trir

woo: try to gain the love of (someone, typically a woman), esp. with a view to marriage

woe: great sorrow or distress

now I know I wanna win the war

ça me dérange
ça m'inquiète
ça m'énerve

ça c'est tout
ça est tout
ça c'est toi

tout
toutoi

o'hara

"I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine

although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humor you'd be proud of

is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone

when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go"

frank o'hara

into my arms

"I don't wanna stay at your party
I don't wanna talk with your friends
I don't wanna vote for your president
I just wanna be your tugboat captain

it's a place I'd like to be
it's a place I'd be happy"

galaxie 500

a stranger said you're strange like me

"until dream ends
I can still be where you are
and let’s just go where we don’t burn young
I want to be
I want to be
in the treasure of all your dreams
who wants to be?
I want to be
in the silence of all your dreams
we’re too young
too young to be ghosts
we’re too young
too young to be ghosts
I’ll sleep, I’ll sleep in your dreams"

the marionettes

you doused my soul with gasoline

so I dived again
in pitch black waters

why can’t there be stars
sunk in all this flesh
to light my path?

why between so many layers
the darker ones
still remain on the surface?

dégoûter: inspirer de la répugnance, écoeurer

only to find out the one who induced you to obsession is probably the personification of what you despise the most

not a poet, but also not a void

in my blue sky dreams you
also keep me
in the eternal area of your
blue skied heart
that may not be as big
as a planet but
still is a world to me
(now I shall be glad that
the universe is many galaxies
and yet I can find
one world to be mine)

no need to focus on
nothing
only find a path
that smells like chamomile
burning in the sun

I stole a piece of
your heart
it hurt but it healed
then I sewed it in mine but
now I can’t unstitch it because
when you left
you took away the tools to do it so
I hope that someday
I find out I have an iron heart
so I tear the piece apart from it
with no more damage
even though you told me that
what’s done is done

you took me by the hand
but the walk was too harsh
and you couldn’t see the stones
so you left me
falling into the void
in the confusing are of
a dark land and
I got trapped
inside my own heart

you found me made of iron
your patience certainly huge
just as the fire from what you felt
the flames full of intensity
but sadly not enough
to quickly warm a virgin heart

oh, queen patti
undo me-tore-apart
I’m blind to your work
but astonished by your life

too many thoughts
got me lost in
my own labyrinth
I called for your help
but forgot to give you
the directions
hidden from your sight
a puzzle in your mind
eternal fighter, you gave up
and turned around
said goodbye
what if I destroyed these walls
would I feel your touches
again?

swallow me
swallow love
open up your life
I know that you can take it
afraid that I can’t
open up your life
make room for us and
let me swim in your deep seas
my dearest

you told me not to overthink
so now I overfeel
I touched you
I smelled you
I danced you
I slept you
I slapped you
I screamed you
I dreamt you
but I
feel you

random words spilled from
the mouth of pure and incessant
boredom
is this how I am supposed to
keep going?
if so
will there be a hidden
weird, but safe
place for me to hide?
will you be there
or only the memories of
what I didn’t let last?

spoon me like a fetus
the position you despise
but dear
if you wanted to
love a bird
you should look
towards the sky
cause I was a
fish in deep waters
and a big wave
soon threw you
back to safe lands
I’m still in my sea
struggling to be alive
should I just
take the easy way
drown deep again
and not only pretend?

a glass of wine
won’t let me sleep
my body as boiling water
touches that burn
uncountable bubbles
traveling inside me
restlessly, tiring me
making me desire
to be somewhere else
maybe below
your comfortable hands

let them feel
four seasons in four minutes
let them have
all that they need
but fill me and
don’t go
leave
stay
go away
knowing what would come
found a manner to repulse you
hold me now if you will
all the time and when
your touches disgust me
one moment and forever
detesting the ephemeral

feels like coffee
drinking you in little sips
appreciating every drop of bitterness
that will freeze my heart soon after I finish it
I dropped the shields long ago
and every time is like a storm
whatever you say
turns the sky into hell
but fire warms my heart
and even though wounds are open again
great endeavor is required for me not to be deluded
desires of us lying in our wood floor

I used to know well
the bad touch of a quasi-long hair
loud noise wouldn’t bother my heart
if what repulses it is there
bear on my eyes for it to see
never got to know what everybody wants
tried so hard that almost got it
purely mislead by features
of one as lost as us

don’t dare to call me
from the peak of a mountain I
shall not try to climb again
because this peak is unsatisfiable
heaven is expected
never to be found

com frequência acabo tomando o tolerável como passível de amor

the quiet hours fall to pieces
heaven isn't where I thought
the dream is dying, fading fast now
the quiet hours gone at last

it's both what I want and what I need



threw me and you screw me and you fed me to the fishes
like we've never been together and I'm only just a vision



though the mind can only know it
know the softness that it's told
is it the heart that surely shows it?
shows the softness the mind knows
and the body tries to hold it
hold the softness the heart shows
while the soul is here to mould it
mould the softness of all knowns

we have come so far
don't throw this



no quiero saber con quién te fuiste

no quiero saber a quién te diste
si no me quieres más me muero
no me digas que te vas te lo ruego

¿cómo te puedo dar lo que tú sueñas
si no me dejas ser el que deseas?
dime qué ocurrió entre nosotros
tu corazón se me cerró
y cómo

dime cuando volverás
dime si me amarás
dime, dime cuándo

¿cuándo?

"referimos certos acontecimentos da nossa vida a outros mais fundamentais — e muitas vezes, em torno de um beijo, circula todo um mundo, toda uma humanidade.

pela primeira vez eu encontrara efetivamente alguém que sabia descer um pouco aos recantos ignorados do meu espírito — os mais sensíveis, os mais dolorosos para mim.

a minha vida é pelo contrário uma vida sem segredo. ou melhor, o seu segredo consiste justamente em não o ter. e a minha vida, livre de estranhezas, é no entanto uma vida bizarra — mas de uma bizarria às avessas. com efeito a sua singularidade encerra-se, não em conter elementos que se não encontram nas vidas normais — mas sim em não conter nenhum dos elementos comuns a todas as vidas. eis pelo que nunca me sucedeu coisa alguma. nem mesmo o que sucede a toda a gente."

mário de sá-carneiro

why leave so soon?

what's this I hear?
are you making a beat?
to bring the romance back
to the loser
the loner
the put up on
the one who looked up once
and all was gone

"bueno, quizás no sea lo que quieras escuchar ahora, pero en otro momento pensá en esto:
el amor llega de improviso, y no como una consecuencia de algún esfuerzo de tu parte
es como una flor
así como viene se va
pero no hay que precoparse! porque otras flores van a llegar
las flores siempre van aseguir naciendo, pero no te aferres a una flor
porque de lo contrario te vas a estar aferrando a una flor muerta"