new day´s resolution

2010-04-28T09:38:00.000-07:00

Pedro theres something ...

2010-03-30T20:12:00.000-07:00

Mama i wanna go surfing!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-03-20T12:02:00.001-07:00

Surf

2010-03-18T19:13:00.000-07:00

red mad

2010-02-02T20:55:00.001-08:00

http://alltheprettythings.tumblr.com/

i hear it!

2010-02-02T20:52:00.000-08:00

2010-01-31T23:40:00.000-08:00

O sorriso

Creio que foi o sorriso,
sorriso foi quem abriu a porta.
Era um sorriso com muita luz
lá dentro, apetecia
entrar nele, tirar a roupa, ficar
nu dentro daquele sorriso.
Correr, navegar, morrer naquele sorriso.

Eugénio de Andrade

2010-01-31T22:54:00.001-08:00

THE NAKED TRUTH from ABOVE on Vimeo.

2010-01-31T21:41:00.001-08:00

2010-01-22T05:51:00.000-08:00

"Hang on to the things
that you're supposed to say"

memo to future me - do not forget to breath!

2009-11-18T15:29:00.000-08:00

words will fail me.

2009-11-18T15:16:00.000-08:00

As benevolentes

2009-10-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

"Be happy that you were born in a time in which women and children are not being killed and you are not being asked to kill other people's women and children. You have been lucky, but you are no better of a person than me. If you think that, and get arrogant, that's where the danger begins."
Max Aue

2009-10-14T18:07:00.001-07:00

2009-10-06T14:44:00.001-07:00

Lip Sync

2009-10-06T14:24:00.001-07:00

Is it?

ill make my way...

2009-09-23T14:04:00.000-07:00

hoje sinto-me assim.

2009-09-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

2009-08-16T14:29:00.000-07:00

some nights are bigger than others.....

2009-07-22T17:42:00.000-07:00

sometimes you heart me.

"sou do tamanho daquilo que vejo"

2009-06-02T19:59:00.000-07:00

2009-05-11T17:02:00.000-07:00

live

Under pressure HYMN

2009-04-08T15:42:00.001-07:00

Como num filme

2009-04-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

Conduz um carro a alta velocidade pela marginal,sente o vento quente na cara,ouve musica num volume considerável e alternadamente,mentalmente em repeat as pessoas a que está vinculada intimamente,uma a uma ...inspirando,expirando...uma a uma , musica a musica desaparecem.

2009-04-05T15:19:00.001-07:00

sing out!

2009-04-05T15:13:00.001-07:00

obrigada.

2009-04-05T14:56:00.000-07:00

2009-04-05T14:24:00.000-07:00

Let's dance put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let's dance to the song they're playin' on the radio

Let's sway while colour lights up your face
Let's sway sway through the crowd to an empty space

If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
And tremble like a flower

Let's dance for fear your grace should fall
Let's dance for fear tonight is all

Let's sway you could look into my eyes
Let's sway under the moonlight, this serious moonlight

If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
And tremble like a flower

2009-04-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

OS FANTASMAS SÃO NOSSOS AMIGOS.

Homesick

2009-04-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

I loose some sales and my boss won't be happy
But I can't stop listening to the sound
Of two soft voices mended in perfection
From the reels of this record that I found
Everyday there's a boy in the mirror
Asking me what are you doing here
Finding all my previous motives
Growing increasingly unclear

I've travelled far and I've burned all the bridges
I believed as soon as I hit land
All the other options held before me
Will wither in the light of my plan
So I loose some sales and my boss won't be happy
But there's only one thing on my mind
Searching boxes underneath the counter
On a chance that on a tape I'd find
A song for
Someone who needs somewhere
To long for

Homesick
Cause I no longer know
What home is
k.o.C.

passenger seat

2009-04-02T18:22:00.000-07:00

I roll the window down
And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

"Do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn't matter.

When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride
When you need directions then I'll be the guide
For all time.
For all time.
death cab for cutie

Argh!

2009-03-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

i dont like you but i love you
seems that im always thinking of you
oh, you treat me badly, i love you madly,
you really got a hold on me
i don't want you
but i need you
don't wanna kiss you but i need to
oh you do me wrong,
now my love is strong, now
you really got a hold on me
i love you and all i want you to do is justhold me
wanna leave you dont wanna stay here
i dont wanna spend another day here
ohohohoh you do me wrong
now my love is strong now
you really got a hold on me
she and him

Fuck you very much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-03-27T10:38:00.001-07:00

Estou a par dos beneficios de que os optimistas gozam e que as boas energias trazem.Eu própria na verdade tento cada vez mais abordar a vida numa perspectiva saudável ,numa perspectiva de influenciar positivamente os que e o que me rodeia mas há dias menos assim e quando aquele buraco negro se acomoda no meu estomago e suga as borboletas esvoaçantes dentro de mim há pouco a fazer,deixo-me então ser uma marioneta do momento caótico de raiva e sou bera(lol) ,mesmo,é mais forte que eu mas não dura muito e imediatamente a seguir vem o arrependimento e depois umas poucas mas boas lágrimas em maratona rosto abaixo e logo volta tudo ao normal.

I need

2009-03-23T13:38:00.000-07:00

a high way.

Au revoir Barcelona.

2009-02-04T14:37:00.000-08:00

"Glories,l1 direcÇão hosp.Bellvitge até Catalunya,desces escadas e segues setas FCG até aos donuts e sais p a dta e em frente nas saídas do "gospel".FCG,S1 Terrasa até ao hosp generalitat.Da 1 toking se tiveres perdida e 2 qd chegares à porta do hosp. Traz o mapa.Até já babe*GT"

2009-02-03T21:17:00.001-08:00

No Vale das Crateras, uma ou duas vezes em cada cem anos, um vento, uma espécie de nuvem de pó, sopra do fundo da terra, e pelos funis enxutos das crateras sobe, lambendo como a língua dos gatos, por três dias, as casas e as faces dos habitantes daquele lugar. Então, todos perdem a memória: os filhos deixam de reconhecer os pais, as mulheres os maridos, as raparigas os namorados, as crianças os pais e tudo se torna um caos de sentimentos novos.
Depois cessa o redemoinho dentro das crateras e, lentamente, cada coisa volta ao seu lugar, não recordando ninguém o que, dentro da nuvem de pó, aconteceu nesses três dias.

Tonino Guerra

2009-02-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

2009-02-03T20:04:00.001-08:00

2009-02-03T19:18:00.000-08:00

2009-02-03T19:07:00.001-08:00

"Fail,fail again,fail better"

2009-01-28T19:57:00.000-08:00

The tell tale heart by Poe,Edgar Allen

2009-01-28T19:27:00.000-08:00

TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night about midnight I turned the latch of his door and opened it oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this? And then when my head was well in the room I undid the lantern cautiously -- oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for the hinges creaked), I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights, every night just at midnight, but I found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the work, for it was not the old man who vexed me but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed , to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of robbers), and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.
I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening , and the old man sprang up in the bed, crying out, "Who's there?"
I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the wall.
Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself, "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney, it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or, "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes he has been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions ; but he had found all in vain. ALL IN VAIN, because Death in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel, although he neither saw nor heard, to feel the presence of my head within the room.
When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily -- until at length a single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.
It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness -- all a dull blue with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones, but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person, for I had directed the ray as if by instinct precisely upon the damned spot.
And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder, every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! -- do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once -- once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But for many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.
If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence.
I took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that.
When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, -- for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.
I smiled, -- for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search -- search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.
The officers were satisfied. My MANNER had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness -- until, at length, I found that the noise was NOT within my ears.
No doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased -- and what could I do? It was A LOW, DULL, QUICK SOUND -- MUCH SUCH A SOUND AS A WATCH MAKES WHEN ENVELOPED IN COTTON. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the noise steadily increased. O God! what COULD I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER! --
"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

Vincent,by Tim Burton

2009-01-28T19:19:00.000-08:00

Vincent Price,who else?

2009-01-28T19:11:00.000-08:00

by William Borroughs,NAKED LUNCH

2009-01-28T19:00:00.000-08:00

Did I Ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk?

Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his ass to talk? His whole
abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was
unlike anything I had ever heard.

"This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there
like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it
feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose?
Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant
sound, a sound you could smell.

"This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a
novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he
called "The Better 'Ole' that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of
it but it was clever. Like, "Oh I say, are you still down there, old
thing?'

"'Nah! I had to go relieve myself.'

"After a while the ass start talking on its own. He would go in without
anything prepared and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him
every time.

"Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in- curving hooks and
start eating. He thought this was cute at first and built and act around
it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking
on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk,
too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same
as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you
could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with
his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the
asshole said to him: 'It's you who will shut up in the end. Not me.
Because we don't need you around here any more. I can talk and eat AND
shit.'

"After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly
like a tadpole's tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the
scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any
kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the
pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow
there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth
sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous-
except for the EYES you dig. That's one thing the asshole COULDN'T do was
see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and
infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn't give orders any more. It
was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the
silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the
brain must have died, because the eyes WENT OUT, and there was no more
feeling in them than a crab's eyes on the end of a stalk.

Reprinted without permission from:
The Naked Lunch
William S Burroughs

by Gus van Sant

2009-01-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

lets have an Elephant baby

2009-01-24T16:12:00.000-08:00

2009-01-24T16:01:00.000-08:00

2009-01-24T15:50:00.000-08:00

MARGI.NAL

2009-01-24T15:40:00.000-08:00

Agrado ,o transgénero é o anómalo, é a desterritariolização do homem, da mulher, da heterosexualidade e da homosexualidade. Não é uma coisa nem outra e Agrado mais do que qualquer outro exímio está em devir porque ela com consciência da sua transformação em contínuo valoriza precisamente o processo e é este devir que é real e não o seu final, a sua conclusão, ela é o objecto de desejo de homens e mulheres. E é isso que lhe interessa. Nasceu para agradar aos outros. E valoriza tanto o sexo com o qual nasceu como os dispendiosos implantes. E nela se misturam sem possível delimitação características de género masculinas e femininas se o quisermos definir de forma simplista e tradicional porque esta suposta mistura na verdade resulta numa identidade com essas definições difusas tanto que já não se podem aplicar tais definições. Agrado é dotada de uma sensibilidade sua, é a sua experiência, é a sua forma que não encontra precedentes . Não está em devir-mulher, o primeiro de todos os devires ,porque aquilo que ela é, é precisamente a destruição dessa dicotomia, a destruição da formação de um devir por oposição a outro. E também não está em devir - homem. Agrado está para além da fronteira dos conceitos vulgarmente utilizados para a descrever fisicamente. Quanto muito podia dizer-se de Agrado devir - objecto de desejo conquanto a única coisa verdadeira em si seja querer agradar os outros e portanto ser autêntica em conformidade com tal.
Há no reino animal certas espécies de que se conhece terem a capacidade de alterar a genitália segundo as necessidades de acasalamento que têm como fim a reprodução. Mas esse devir animal aqui aplicado não seria correcto pois na verdade aqui o movimento progride e estagna em direcção ao princípio do prazer.O devir é sempre intenso e é através do seu aparecimento, da sua visibilidade que percebemos o quão invisível ela é.
i.

kiss me baby one more time.

2009-01-24T15:22:00.001-08:00

hip me.

2009-01-24T15:12:00.000-08:00

2009-01-24T15:01:00.000-08:00

its all about the eye

2009-01-24T14:49:00.000-08:00

2009-01-24T14:06:00.000-08:00

Noia Perra

2009-01-24T13:32:00.000-08:00

core

2009-01-24T13:23:00.001-08:00

aporía

Pale that day.

2009-01-24T13:13:00.000-08:00

when one revolves dazzlingly.

2009-01-24T12:59:00.000-08:00

Revolutio Sickness.

2009-01-24T12:34:00.000-08:00

http://fc62.deviantart.com/fs31/f/2008/220/f/0/Rainbow_Throw_Up_Party_by_yum_toxiccandy.png

Stable star is born.

2009-01-24T12:06:00.000-08:00

"At the beginning of the formation of a star, the gravitational attraction will pull the gas together. At some point, the density and temperature at the center of the cloud of gas will be high enough to ignite the nuclear fusion. The energy produced by the fusion will create two kinds of outward pressure to act against the gravitational attraction. Because of these two balancing forces (the outward pressure and the inward gravitational attraction), the star is stable ."

Flare at me!

2009-01-19T10:25:00.001-08:00

2009-01-18T19:32:00.000-08:00

túrána hott kurdís by hasta la otra méxico! from Till Credner on Vimeo.

Pink & Black & Blue

2009-01-08T12:03:00.000-08:00

"I tried to do handstands for you

I tried to do headstands for you

Everytime i fell on you

yeah everytime i fell

I tried to do handstands for you

But everytime i fell for you

I'm permanently black and blue,

permanently blue for You

- I grabbed some frozen strawberries

so i could ice your bruisy knees

But frozen things they all unfreeze

and now i taste like

All those frozen strawberries i used to chill your bruisy knees,

Hot july ain't good to me

I'm pink and black and blue

Got bruises on my knees for you

And grass stains on my knees for you

Got holes in my new jeans for you

Got pink and black and blue for

you uh uh uh oh you uh uh!"

How u doin chromes?

2009-01-04T20:56:00.000-08:00

Xerazade Xerazade!

2009-01-04T19:59:00.000-08:00

"Schahariar, grande sultão das Índias, depois de tomar conhecimento da infidelidade da sultana, sua mulher, ordenou que a estrangulassem. A partir desse momento, convencido de que não existia nenhuma mulher honesta e para prevenir infidelidades futuras, institui um reinado de terror, casando com uma jovem em cada noite e mandando estrangulá-la na manhã seguinte. Assim aconteceu até ao dia em que a filha mais velha do grão-vizir, Xerazade, decide pôr fim a tal desumanidade.Xerazade era uma mulher sábia, instruída, que lera muito, tinha uma memória prodigiosa,uma perspicácia admirável, uma coragem acima do seu sexo e, como se tudo isto não bastasse, uma excelente beleza e uma sólida virtude. Xerazade pede encarecidamente a seu pai que a entregue ao sultão. Apesar dos protestos e das tentativas de dissuasão por parte do grão-vizir, Xerazade obstinada, persistente e firme decide tornar-se esposa do sultão. Preparou-se com esmero e arranjou uma adjuvante, Dinarzade,sua irmã, que a pudesse ajudar a levar a cabo o seu plano. As estratégias estavam minuciosamente preparadas para que o projecto não falhasse. Durante Mil e uma Noites,Xerazade vai mantendo acesa a curiosidade do rei, contando-lhe histórias que nunca terminam ao alvorecer e que geram sempre outras histórias. "O sultão livra-a da sentença de morte porque ela fez perdurar as suas histórias recorrendo ao suspense durante mil e uma noites ,ela começava a contar as suas histórias e antes que a madrugada acabasse interrompia-as e só as retomava no dia seguinteDeixando assim o sultão curioso por saber como é que a história ia acabar.
in http://ler.letras.up.pt/uploads/ficheiros/4593.pdf.

2009-01-02T21:36:00.000-08:00

"Quis-te tanto que gostei de mim!
Tu eras a que não serás sem mim!
Vivias de eu viver em ti
e mataste a vida que te dei
por não seres como eu te queria.
Eu vivia em ti o que em ti eu via.
E aquela que não será sem mim
tu viste-a como eu
e talvez para ti também
a única mulher que eu vi!"

My new years resolution!

2009-01-02T21:33:00.000-08:00

Vamos?

2009-01-02T20:31:00.000-08:00

Iremos juntos sozinhos pela areia
Embalados no dia
Colhendo as algas roxas e os corais
Que na praia deixou a maré cheia.
As palavras que disseres e eu disser
Serão somente as palavras que há nas coisas
Virás comigo desumanamente
Como vêm as ondas com o vento.
O belo dia liso como o linho
Interminável será sem um defeito
Cheio de imagens e conhecimento.
(Sophia de Mello Breyner Andersen)

"its one oclock on a friday morning"

2008-12-21T20:17:00.001-08:00

words of silence

2008-12-21T20:07:00.000-08:00

"And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisperd in the sounds of silence."

2008-12-21T19:31:00.000-08:00

"I dont know...
ill think of something as i go."

"bairro social"

2008-12-21T19:30:00.001-08:00

Mas

2008-12-17T14:48:00.000-08:00

"Mas por mais bela que seja cada coisa tem um monstro em si suspenso."

older colder?

2008-08-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

older colder?

Im in bubbles with you!

2008-07-22T18:27:00.001-07:00

2008-07-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

"Baby, I know you cannot hear me now
'Cause you're flying around
At the speed of sound
Colors inside your head go spinning around
Like a ferris wheel
Exploding and falling to the ground
Oh, people are screaming, people are screaming
My baby, she's dreaming"
R.A.

ill be underwater!

2008-07-22T08:18:00.000-07:00

"Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow."
b.d.

heartstealer!

2008-07-17T19:42:00.001-07:00

Depois principiara a chorar

2008-07-17T10:44:00.000-07:00

"Recordava o rapazito que ficara de guarda ao rancho, certa ocasião, e a quem tinham recomendado que não desse feno a ninguém.Aparecera aquele miseravel do Forks, que espancara o rapaz quando este trabalhara para ele, e parara para comer qualquer coisa.O rapaz recusara-se a aceder o pedido do outro e o mais velho ameaçara bater-lhe outra vez.O rapaz pegara na espingarda que estava na cozinha e derA-lhe um tiro quando o outro tentara entrar no celeiro.Quando os outros trabalhadores voltaram ao rancho havia uma semana que ele estava morto, estiraçado no curral, e os cães jà lhe tinham comido parte do corpo.O que restava fora colocado num trenó, embrulhado num cobertor , com a ajuda do rapaz.Dois dos trabalhadores tinham-no levado em esquis e percorrido 60 milhas ate à cidade para entregar o rapaz às autoridades.Ele não fazia a minima ideia de que ia ser preso.Pensava que tinha cumprido o seu dever e que, como os ooutros eram seus amigos, o iriam recompensar.Ajudara de boa mente a transportar o cadaver para que todos soubessem como aquele homem era mau e como tentara roubar o que não lhe pertencia.Quando o xerife lhe pôs as algemas, o rapaz nem queria acreditar.Depois principiara a chorar."

Ernest Hemingway "As neves do Kilimanjaro"

Vanessa Redgrave ,who else?

2008-07-16T06:33:00.001-07:00

devir tudo!

2008-07-15T17:01:00.000-07:00

"Os perceptos já não são percepções,eles são independentes de um estado daqueles que passam por eles(...)A obra de arte é um ser de sensação e nada mais:ela existe em si...(...)
Pintamos,esculpimos,compomos,escrevemos com sensações.Pintamos,esculpimos,compomos,escrevemos sensações.(...)
O objectivo da arte (...) é de arrancar o percepto Às percepções do objecto e aos estados de um sujeito perceptivo, de arrancar o afecto às afecções como passagem de um estado a um outro.Extrair um bloco de sensações, um puro ser de sensação.(...)É verdade que toda a obra de arte é um monumento,mas o monumento não é aqui aquilo que comemora um passado, é um bloco de sensações presente que não devem senão a elas mesmas a sua própria conservação e dão ao acontecimento o composto que o celebra.(...)A paisagem vÊ.Em geral,que grande escritor não soube criar estes seres de sensação que conservam em si a hora de um dia,o grau de calor de um momento?O percepto é a paisagem anterior ao homem,na ausÊncia do homem.Mas em todos estes casos,porquÊ dizer isto se a paisagem não é independente das percepções supostas dos personagens e ,por seu intermédio,das percepções e lembranças do autor?(...)Os personagens só podem existir e o autor só pode crìá-las porque elas não percepcionam, mas passaram na paisagem e fazem parte do composto de sensações.(..)Os afectos são precisamente esses devires não humanos do homem,como os perceptos são as paisagens não humanas da natureza.«há um minuto que passa»,nós não o conservamos senão nos «tornarmos ele mesmo»,diz Cézanne.Nós não estamos no mundo , nós tornamo-nos com o mundo ,nós tornamo-nos contemplando-o.Tudo é visão,devir.Tornamo-nos universo.Devires animal ,vegetal, molecular,devir zero.(...)A arte é a linguagem das sensações ,quer passe pelas palavras ,pelas cores ,os sons ,ou as pedras."

in Deleuze e Guattari , "qu'est ce la philosophie..."

2008-07-15T13:56:00.000-07:00

passionfruit

Eu gosto de ti Tomás!

2008-07-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

QUIRON!

2008-07-13T10:46:00.000-07:00

Quíron ou quirion foi uma das figuras mais nobres e inteligentes da mitologia.Quíron era um deus da medicina na mitologia tessaliana, mas tornou-se centauro imortal na mitologia grega. Apesar dos centauros geralmente serem selvagens e indomáveis, Quíron era excepção. Destacou-se pela sua inteligência e conhecimentos de medicina.

"Segundo o mito, Quíron é filho de Saturno (Cronos) e da ninfa Filira. O deus, para se esconder da esposa Réia,metamorfoseou-se em cavalo para se encontrar com Filira: dessa união nasceu o centauro, metade cavalo e metade homem. Quando a mãe viu a criatura horrorosa que havia posto no mundo, pediu aos deuses que a transformassem numa coisa diferente: seu pedido foi atendido, e ela foi transformada numa árvore chamada Tília.

Quíron ficou abandonado: o pai fugiu e a mãe não quis saber dele. Imortal, por ser filho de Saturno, Quíron sobreviveu, sendo encontrado por Apolo (deus do Sol dos gregos). Como pai adoptivo, Apolo ensinou-lhe todos os seus conhecimentos: artes, música, poesia, ética, filosofia, artes divinatórias e profecias, terapias curativas e ciência.

Adulto, tornou-se um grande sábio, profeta, médico e mestre, transmitindo seus conhecimentos a todos que desejassem aprender. Os heróis gregos (Hércules, Asclépio, Aquiles, Jason etc.) foram pupilos de Quíron, assim como os filhos dos reis da Grécia. Ele era o ‘centauro chefe’ e o preceptor máximo, tanto das artes da sobrevivência, como da cultura, da filosofia, e passou também a orientar o intelecto dos discípulos, ficando conhecido também por preparar os futuros heróis. Quíron era ainda especialista no uso da medicina de ervas e plantas e em Astrologia. Ele tinha o poder de cura nas mãos, e o que não conseguia curar, ninguém mais conseguia.

Um dia, durante a festa de casamento de um filho de um rei, os centauros convidados embriagaram-SE e começaram a perseguir as mulheres, incluINDO a noiva. Travou-se uma batalha entre os centauros bêbEdos e os convidados, entre os quais estava Hércules, que, acidentalmente, feriu Quíron, também presente na festa, com uma flecha, ou na coxa, ou na perna, ou no pé (há várias versões) ou seja, na parte animal do corpo. A flecha de Hércules, que havia sido banhada no sangue da Hidra (e sendo portanto venenosa), causou em Quíron uma ferida incurável; impotente para curar seu ferimento e não podendo morrer por ser imortal, ele começou a sofrer intensamente, recolhendo-se numa gruta no monte Pélion onde, porém, continuou transmitindo seus conhecimentos aos discípulos até que um dia...

Prometeu roubou o fogo aos deuses e ofereceu-o aos homens e por isso foi castigado por Zeus, que prometeu a sua liberdade se um imortal abrisse mão da sua imortalidade e fosse para o Hades (reino subterrâneo, inferno) em vez deste. Com pena de Prometeu e de Quíron, Hércules propôs a Zeus que soltasse Prometeu, pois Quíron faria isso: Zeus concordou e homenageando a sua acção colocou-o no céu como constelação. Sagitário (sagitta: flecha)

O ‘curador ferido’ ainda aparece em muitas das nossas palavras derivadas do grego antigo: a palavra cheir, que significa mão, compõe não somente o nome de Quíron (a forma antiga é Kheiron), mas também diversas palavras que servem para amplificar o arquétipo do Centauro Chefe: figura em quiromancia, quirografia, quiroprática e quirurgia, que veio a ser cirurgia.Na base de todas as derivações está cheir."

O deus do tempo : CRONOS

2008-07-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

Os ponteiros não param mas a minha alma já apodrecida!
estrangulada pelos mecanismos ditatoriais de que são sujeitos todos os corpos incluindo o meu.Apesar da calmaria a que assisto;a companhia que faço ás folhas caídas,ao vento que passa com pressa mas não para chegar a lado algum e á formiga morta sem jazigo o corpo continua a querer obedecer ao relógio ,movimenta-se e desloca-se mecanizado perde-se em gestos desesperados agita o que ainda pensa conter,mas já não há nada,só vozes que ecoam do cansaço da calma que sentiu a dôr dos ponteiros que tanto amou e que agora não são mais que arames farpados sempre que esta se tenta expandir.

i.

arranhar o céu

2008-07-13T09:53:00.000-07:00

Vamos subir descalças à vigorosa e à poderosa
lamber ferrugem e arranhar as tuas costas
saltar para lagos de betão
verde liquido ácido
beber diesel
incendiar-mo-nos com a tua libido que
anseia por me tocar secretamente
Ama-me sem eu saber
sem eu ver
sem eu te tocar
e sentir
mas ama-me!

i.

"Faz sentido no meu sistema solar"

2008-07-13T09:42:00.000-07:00

its pouring!

2008-07-13T09:39:00.000-07:00

Se continuar a chover vou precisar de ti!

Sempre gostei de verde!

2008-07-13T09:29:00.001-07:00

2008-07-01T07:22:00.000-07:00

"- Ah, amor sejamos fiéis
Um ao outro! Pois o mundo, que parece
Estender-se diante de nós como uma terra de sonhos,
Tão vário, tão belo,tão novo,
Não tem realmente alegria, nem amor, nem luz,
Nem certeza, nem paz, nem remédio para dor;
E estamos aqui como numa planície sombria
Varrida por alarmes confusos de luta e fuga,
Onde cegos exércitos travam combate na noite."
by Matthew Arnold

hmm?

2008-06-16T09:59:00.000-07:00

crostas!

2007-10-09T09:54:00.000-07:00

"i was afraid of it at 1st.Afraid it might destroy the impulses that made me creative,an artist.A sensitive person receives 50 impressions when somebody else may only get seven.Sensitive people are so vulnerable;the more sensitive you are , the more certain you are to be brutalised,develop scabs.Never evolve.Never allow yourself to feel anything , because you always feel too much"M.B.

preço especial para quem tiver doenças venéreas!

2007-09-26T13:14:00.000-07:00

by Stella Vine!

stellar

2007-09-18T10:56:00.000-07:00

2007-09-16T14:29:00.000-07:00

qualquer semelhança com a realidade é pura coincidencia.

sonha comigo!

2007-09-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

photo by David la Chapelle

homage a ti.

inauguracao

2007-09-15T18:33:00.000-07:00

"To be a dog woman is not necessarily to be downtrodden; that has very little to do with it. In these pictures every woman's a dog woman, not downtrodden, but powerful. To be bestial is good. It's physical. Eating, snarling, all activities to do with sensation are positive. To picture a woman as a dog is utterly believable."paula rego