Overdose de Supertramp só porque Supertramp rulez.
Hide in your Shell always makes me come to tears... sing it to me
Dreamer
Dreamer, you know you are a dreamer
Well can you put your hands in your head, oh no!
I said dreamer, you're nothing but a dreamer
Well can you put your hands in your head, oh no!
I said "Far out, - What a day, a year, a laugh it is!"
You know, - Well you know you had it comin' to you,
Now there's not a lot I can do
Dreamer, you stupid little dreamer;
So now you put your head in your hands, oh no!
I said "Far out, - What a day, a year, a laugh it is!"
You know, - Well you know you had it comin' to you,
Now there's not a lot I can do.
Well work it out someday
If I could see something
You can see anything you want boy
If I could be someone-
You can be anyone, celebrate boy.
If I could do something-
Well you can do something,
If I could do anything-
Well can you do something out of this world?
Take a dream on a Sunday
Take a life, take a holiday
Take a lie, take a dreamer
dream, dream, dream, dream, dream along...
Dreamer, you know you are a dreamer
Well can you put your hands in your head, oh no!
I said dreamer, you're nothing but a dreamer
Well can you put your hands in your head, oh no!
OH NO!
Hide In Your Shell
Hide in your shell cos the world is out to bleed you for a ride
What will you gain making your life a little longer?
Heaven or Hell, was the journey cold that gave your eyes of steel?
Shelter behind painting your mind and playing joker
Too Frightening to listen to a stranger
Too Beautiful to put your pride in danger
You're waiting for someone to understand you
But you've got demons in your closet
And you're screaming out to stop it
Saying life's begun to cheat you
Friends are out to beat you
Grab on to what you scramble for
Don't let the tears linger on inside now
Cos it's sure time you gained control
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know
Well, let me show you the nearest signpost
To get your heart back and on the road
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know.
All through the night as you like awake and hold yourself so tight
What do you need, a second-hand-movie-star to tend you?
I as a boy, I believed the saying the cure for pain was love
How would it be if you could see the world through my eyes?
Too Frightening - the fire's getting colder
Too Beautiful - to think you're getting older
You're looking for someone to give an answer.
But what you see is just an illusion
You're surrounded by confusion
Saying life's begun to cheat you
Friends are out to beat you
Grab on to what you can scramble for
Don't let the tears linger on inside now
Cos it's sure time you gained control
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know
Well, let me show you the nearest signpost
To get your heart back and on the road
If I can help you, if I can help you
If I can help you, just let me know.
I wanna know...
I wanna know you...
Well let me know you
I wanna feel you
I wanna touch you
Please let me near you
Can you hear what I'm saying?
Well I'm hoping, I'm dreamin', I'm prayin'
I know what you're thinkin'
See what you're seein'
Never ever let yourself go
Hold yourself down, hold yourself down
Why d'ya hold yourself down?
Why don't you listen, you can
Trust me,
There's a place I know the way to
A place there is need to feel you
Feel that you're alone
Hear me
I know exactly what you're feelin'
cos all your troubles are whithin you
please begin to see that I'm just bleeding too
Love me, love you
Loving is the way to
Help me, help you
- Why must we be so cool, oh so cool,?
Oh, we're such damn fools...
Give A Little Bit
Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
Give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my love to you
There's so much that we need to share
Send a smile and show you care
I'll give a little bit
I'll give a little bit of my love to you
So give a little bit
Give a little bit of your time to me
See man man with the lonely eyes
Take his hand, you'll be surprised
Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
I'll give a little bit of my love for you
Now's the time that we need to share
So find yourself, we're on our way back home
Going home
Don't you need to feel at home?
Oh yeah, we gotta sing
It's Raining Again
It's raining again
Oh no, my love's at an end.
Oh no, it's raining again
and you know it's hard to pretend.
Oh no, it's raining again
Too bad I'm losing a friend.
Oh no, it's raining again
Oh will my heart ever mend.
Oh no, it's raining again
You're old enough some people say
To read the signs and walk away
It's only time that heals the pain
And makes the sun come out again
It's raining again
Oh no, my love's at an end.
Oh no, it's raining again
Too bad I'm losing a friend.
C'mon you little fighter
No need to get uptighter
C'mon you little fighter
And get back up again
Oh get back up again
Fill your heart again...
sábado, agosto 31, 2002
Eu no momento sou Alice no País dos Espelhos. Só que os espelhos se partiram. Os cacos espelhados dançam ao meu redor refletindo pequenos pedaços de realidade. Nada é o que parece ser. Caem. Estão em queda. Não se partiram ainda. Estilhaços se espatifam no chão. Pequenos fragmentos dançam ao meu redor. Tudo ao mesmo tempo. Não há tempo. Sincronicidade. Espelhos por todos os lados. Em qual parte você vê o reflexo do meu rosto? Eu estou em todos. Todos são espelho. A realidade é ilusão. Maya. Eu quero Moksha. Nada está ali. Nem eu. Tudo está ali, segundo um ponto de vista. Me dê sua mão, tudo se dissolve ao nosso redor. Vamos modelar estes cacos em pequenos pedaços de realidade líquida. Bebê-los. Comê-los. Absorvê-los. Ou simplesmente dançarmos loucamente numa espiral ascendente pairando sobre o nada e a escuridão com fragmentos de caos oscilando brilhantemente ao nosso redor, como poeira de cristais, como lágrimas cristalizadas de anjos, puras e intocadas. Que nossa dança faça girar a espiral. Somos livres. Crianças do tempo, iremos além dele. Veja, veja as linhas delicadas e tênues, sua suave luz dourada, envolvendo o mundo inteiro. Veja, a beleza suave da Anima Mundi. Milhares de vidas entrelaçadas com as suas, veja as linhas douradas desenhando lindas espirais entrelaçadas sobre teus pulsos. Com um gesto de suas mãos, você pode mudar o mundo. Toque um fragmento, um espelho se quiser. Ele é pequeno, veja sua dimensão. Ele é feito de todo. Ele não é o todo. Espelhos são maya. Despidos das nossas ilusões, seremos crianças divinas dançando a dança de Shiva segundo a nossa Vontade. Venha comigo. Vamos descobrir o mundo juntos, baby. Quero aprender com teu pequeno e grande coração.
I'm Alice in the Country of Mirrors by now. But crashed the mirrors. Reflecting shards dance around me reflecting small pieces of reality. Nothing is what it seems to be. They fall. They are falling. They hadn't still been broken. Splinters crash in the soil. Small fragments dance around me. Everything at the same time. There is no time. Synchronicity. Mirrors by all sides. In which part you see the reflections of my face? I am in all. All are mirror. Reality is illusion. Maya. I want Moksha. Nothing is there. Nor I. Everything is there, according to a point of view. Give me your hand, everything dissolves around us. Lets shape these shards in small pieces of liquid reality. To drink them. To eat them. To absorb them. Or simply to dance madly in an ascending spiral floating over absolute nothing and darkness with fragments of chaos oscillating shiningly around, like crystal dust, like crystallized tears of angels, pure and imaculate. Shall our dance spin the spiral. We are free. Children of the time, we will go beyond it. See, see delicate and tenuous the strings, its soft golden light, involving the entire world. See, the soft beauty of Anima Mundi. Thousands of lives interlaced into it, look, the golden strings drawing pretty spirals interlaced on your pulses. With a gesture of your hands, you can change the world. Touch a fragment, a mirror if you want. It is small, see its dimension. It's made of all. It is not all. Mirrors are maya. Undressed of our illusions, we will be divine children dancing the dance of Shiva according to our Will. Come with me. Let's discover the world together, baby. I want to learn with your small and great heart.
I'm Alice in the Country of Mirrors by now. But crashed the mirrors. Reflecting shards dance around me reflecting small pieces of reality. Nothing is what it seems to be. They fall. They are falling. They hadn't still been broken. Splinters crash in the soil. Small fragments dance around me. Everything at the same time. There is no time. Synchronicity. Mirrors by all sides. In which part you see the reflections of my face? I am in all. All are mirror. Reality is illusion. Maya. I want Moksha. Nothing is there. Nor I. Everything is there, according to a point of view. Give me your hand, everything dissolves around us. Lets shape these shards in small pieces of liquid reality. To drink them. To eat them. To absorb them. Or simply to dance madly in an ascending spiral floating over absolute nothing and darkness with fragments of chaos oscillating shiningly around, like crystal dust, like crystallized tears of angels, pure and imaculate. Shall our dance spin the spiral. We are free. Children of the time, we will go beyond it. See, see delicate and tenuous the strings, its soft golden light, involving the entire world. See, the soft beauty of Anima Mundi. Thousands of lives interlaced into it, look, the golden strings drawing pretty spirals interlaced on your pulses. With a gesture of your hands, you can change the world. Touch a fragment, a mirror if you want. It is small, see its dimension. It's made of all. It is not all. Mirrors are maya. Undressed of our illusions, we will be divine children dancing the dance of Shiva according to our Will. Come with me. Let's discover the world together, baby. I want to learn with your small and great heart.
quinta-feira, agosto 29, 2002
Fiz meu début no Fashion Mall indo assistir Lúcia e o Sexo ontem à noite. Dentro do filme o mundo girava e ao meu redor estilhaços da minha vida me cortavam, vindo direto da tela para o fundo do meu coração. No escuro da sala de projeção, assistindo quão patéticos somos na nossa entrega ao amor, vistos de uma platéia revi também cada coisa que fez da minha vida de mulher de um escritor um prazer quase torturante... De como ele sugava a vida ao seu redor, se alimentava de cada detalhe vívido, quase obscenamente, sem limites nem escrúpulos, para menti-los em seus livros com uma fidelidade surreal. De como era ler cada capítulo fresco, ainda no micro, a prova impressa, eu, a crítica mais sincera e a fã mais amorosa. Me encontrei um pouco ali. Ganhei um presente de uma pessoa especial. Me perdi também. Meu coração de vidro em algum lugar numa montanha nos Alpes franceses ou em algum hotel de Paris. Vida complicada. Bom é tomar banho de cachoeira com a ñina Muerte...
I made my début in Art Fashion Mall going yesterday to see "Lucía y el Sexo"(Sex and Lucia),. Inside the film the world turned and around me splinters of my life cut through me, coming directly of the screen into the deepest of my heart. In the dark of the projection room, seeing on the screen how pathetic we are in our total delivery to love, saw from an auditorium. I also reviewed everything that made of my life of a writer's spouse an almost torturant pleasure... How he sucked life around him, how he fed in every vivid detail, almost obscenally, without limits to lie them in his books with an almost surreal allegiance. How it was to read each chapter still fresh, still on the computer, the first printed proof... Me, the most sincere critic and the most loving fan. I met myself a little there. I gained a gift from an special friend. I also lost myself a little there. My heart of glass some place in a mountain on French Alps or maybe some Paris's hotel . Complicated life. Better is to take waterfall baths on my site with ñina Muerte...
I made my début in Art Fashion Mall going yesterday to see "Lucía y el Sexo"(Sex and Lucia),. Inside the film the world turned and around me splinters of my life cut through me, coming directly of the screen into the deepest of my heart. In the dark of the projection room, seeing on the screen how pathetic we are in our total delivery to love, saw from an auditorium. I also reviewed everything that made of my life of a writer's spouse an almost torturant pleasure... How he sucked life around him, how he fed in every vivid detail, almost obscenally, without limits to lie them in his books with an almost surreal allegiance. How it was to read each chapter still fresh, still on the computer, the first printed proof... Me, the most sincere critic and the most loving fan. I met myself a little there. I gained a gift from an special friend. I also lost myself a little there. My heart of glass some place in a mountain on French Alps or maybe some Paris's hotel . Complicated life. Better is to take waterfall baths on my site with ñina Muerte...
Tonight, I'll tell you the Legend of the orchid, for there's no symbol in my life without a meaning. A japanese, delicate tale. Like most tales, there's a princess. Cursed by her proudness, condamned to love forever a prince that would never love her. Desperate, she accepts the word of a genius that promises her he'll keep her love forever near her. He waves his hand and turns the prince into a tree. Mad with pain, she embraces the tree and whispers a prayer to her gods to never be aparted from her beloved. Touched, they turn her into a beautiful orchid. By the time I made my Laelia, not only my heart, but my entire life was broken. I was beyond pain. She remembers me who I am.
segunda-feira, agosto 26, 2002
Falando em Wander, meu Druida e cia, visitem isso aqui e rolem de rir. Não me responsabilizo pela saúde mental de ninguém.
Hoje tive o prazer de conversar pela primeira vez "by the phone" com meu doce amigo Gio, um guitarrista de jazz italiano que conheci via Cuseeme ano passado, numa tarde de sábado que eu tava de bobeira na Planeta (eu REALMENTE tinha TANTO o que fazer naquela empresa... :P). Apaixonante, com seus longos cabelos e visual dark elegante. Ele diz que vem pro Brasil no Carnaval.
Ele quer fazer um show com a banda dele enquanto tiver por aki. Me viro em duas, mas que eu arrumo lugar pra eles tocarem, ah arrumo!!!
Tonight I had the pleasure to talk by the phone for the first time with the sweet Giovanni, an italian jazz guitar player that I knew last year by Cuseeme on a boring saturday afternoon on Planet (I had really a LOT of stuff to do at that job :P) Adorable, with his long hair and his cool dark elegant dressing style. He says he comes to Brasil on 2003's Carnival. Also that he wants to play with his band here. Well, you can guess I'll try as much as I can to get the place to see they play... :-)
Será que se eu der um puxão de orelha "dilevi" o Breno tira a poeira do blog? Daki a pouco essa Entropia vira Kaos. Tô com saudades, Sr. Hermes. Vê se fica online pra gente conversar mais. Te adoro, viu?
Já que o papo é blog, tenho o prazer de anunciar que meu Druida voltou a escrever. Vocês não têm idéia da alegria que me dá no coração vendo meu doce amor finalmente seguir o seu caminho... Já não era sem tempo! Quem sabe as Gentis não o tragam para passear sob os céus azuis do meu Rio? Eu estarei esperando de braços abertos, sempre.
My friend Breno doesn't writes on his Entropia BX... Anyway, I adore him. BUT my heart is joyful because I saw that my Druid is writing again. Finally he's free from his chains, who knows if the Kindly Ones don't make his way through my Rio? I'll be waiting, arms wide open. Always.
Talking about blogs, my friend Wander wants the same that every one I know looks for: a love. The girl needs to be pretty, intelligent, charming, nynphomaniac and to live in São Paulo. He's pretty, intelligent and sensible... I really don't understand why the guy's still alone!!!!!
E finalizando com o papo blog, ajudem o Wandeco aê: "ATENÇÃO GUAPAS DE FINO TRATO, WANDECO PRECISA DE UMA NAMORADA QUE SEJA BONITA GOSTOSA", INTELIGENTE, E QUE FAÇA AMOR COMO SE FOSSE A ÚLTIMA VEZ NA VIDA"
Saca só nosso bate-papo no Mess:
" Wander says:
Fala ai, bruxa carioca.. tudo bem?
Lanika says:
falaê, trb frila básico
Wander says:
Isso ai, vai fundo. Tem que garantir a bolachinha das crianças.
Lanika says:
nada, tenho que garantir a boemia semanal
Lanika says:
tou postando tb, aproveito pra te linkar de novo
Wander says:
Ahnn,
Lanika says:
hahaha, te prepara que é Sid-style
Wander :
What you mean?
Lanika says:
que eu vou colocar um anúncio estilo "wandeco procura" rsssssss
Wander says:
Wandeco procura moças de fino trato para relacionamento intimo e discreto, sexo todo dia ou seu dinheiro de volta.
Lanika says:
hahahaha, olha que corto e colo hein?
Wander says:
Vocês tão querendo me sacanear, até parece que eu to num desespero de dar dó.
Wander says:
Mas como eu sempre digo, as vezes eu me sinto como roupa de grife Armani, ou aluma outra merda dessas, todo mundo olha mas ninguem entra na loja para perguntar o preço..."
AÊ, na boa, acho que eu vou postar o anúncio do Wander nas Descontroladas...
Ele quer fazer um show com a banda dele enquanto tiver por aki. Me viro em duas, mas que eu arrumo lugar pra eles tocarem, ah arrumo!!!
Tonight I had the pleasure to talk by the phone for the first time with the sweet Giovanni, an italian jazz guitar player that I knew last year by Cuseeme on a boring saturday afternoon on Planet (I had really a LOT of stuff to do at that job :P) Adorable, with his long hair and his cool dark elegant dressing style. He says he comes to Brasil on 2003's Carnival. Also that he wants to play with his band here. Well, you can guess I'll try as much as I can to get the place to see they play... :-)
Será que se eu der um puxão de orelha "dilevi" o Breno tira a poeira do blog? Daki a pouco essa Entropia vira Kaos. Tô com saudades, Sr. Hermes. Vê se fica online pra gente conversar mais. Te adoro, viu?
Já que o papo é blog, tenho o prazer de anunciar que meu Druida voltou a escrever. Vocês não têm idéia da alegria que me dá no coração vendo meu doce amor finalmente seguir o seu caminho... Já não era sem tempo! Quem sabe as Gentis não o tragam para passear sob os céus azuis do meu Rio? Eu estarei esperando de braços abertos, sempre.
My friend Breno doesn't writes on his Entropia BX... Anyway, I adore him. BUT my heart is joyful because I saw that my Druid is writing again. Finally he's free from his chains, who knows if the Kindly Ones don't make his way through my Rio? I'll be waiting, arms wide open. Always.
Talking about blogs, my friend Wander wants the same that every one I know looks for: a love. The girl needs to be pretty, intelligent, charming, nynphomaniac and to live in São Paulo. He's pretty, intelligent and sensible... I really don't understand why the guy's still alone!!!!!
E finalizando com o papo blog, ajudem o Wandeco aê: "ATENÇÃO GUAPAS DE FINO TRATO, WANDECO PRECISA DE UMA NAMORADA QUE SEJA BONITA GOSTOSA", INTELIGENTE, E QUE FAÇA AMOR COMO SE FOSSE A ÚLTIMA VEZ NA VIDA"
Saca só nosso bate-papo no Mess:
" Wander says:
Fala ai, bruxa carioca.. tudo bem?
Lanika says:
falaê, trb frila básico
Wander says:
Isso ai, vai fundo. Tem que garantir a bolachinha das crianças.
Lanika says:
nada, tenho que garantir a boemia semanal
Lanika says:
tou postando tb, aproveito pra te linkar de novo
Wander says:
Ahnn,
Lanika says:
hahaha, te prepara que é Sid-style
Wander :
What you mean?
Lanika says:
que eu vou colocar um anúncio estilo "wandeco procura" rsssssss
Wander says:
Wandeco procura moças de fino trato para relacionamento intimo e discreto, sexo todo dia ou seu dinheiro de volta.
Lanika says:
hahahaha, olha que corto e colo hein?
Wander says:
Vocês tão querendo me sacanear, até parece que eu to num desespero de dar dó.
Wander says:
Mas como eu sempre digo, as vezes eu me sinto como roupa de grife Armani, ou aluma outra merda dessas, todo mundo olha mas ninguem entra na loja para perguntar o preço..."
AÊ, na boa, acho que eu vou postar o anúncio do Wander nas Descontroladas...
Blog novo no pedaço, recolhido da lista do Diário de Um Bruxo. O primeiro que vejo cria da conjunção Globo.com/Blogger... Mêda. Não do Blog, que está ficando ótimo. Da Globo metendo o dedão no Blogger. Ui!
Nice pagan new blog, but in portuguese... It worths the click by the pictures Morgan posts.
Nice pagan new blog, but in portuguese... It worths the click by the pictures Morgan posts.
domingo, agosto 25, 2002
Hoje vou subir a serra... Levar o kit bruxa pra passear, me purificar nas águas que descem do alto da montanha pro coração da floresta... Receber as bênçãos da mãe terra. Tomar muito banho de cachoeira e ficar lagartixando sobre as pedras também, rs.
PROUD MOMMY: GABRIEL APRENDEU O "A-E-I-O-U"!!!!! Eu estava ensinando ele a escrever ontem coisas simples como "eu" "oi" "ai"... Ele agora já pode escrever que nem surfista "ó u auê aí ó!!!!!", rs. Também ensinei a letrinha G de "gato Gabriel" e a letra M, que sendo parecida com "U" minúsculo foi fácil de aprender. Vou ensinar ele a escrever "mamãe" :-)
Today I'm going to my site, take my "kit-witch" for a walk :-) and bath myself in the pure waters of the heart of the forest. I love that place, deeply. Purify myself. Receive the blessings of the Mother.
PROUD MOMMY: GABRIEL LEARNED HIS 'A-E-I-O-U"!!!! I'm teaching him little words like "eu" (means "I" in portuguese") , "oi" (means "hi") , lol and so it goes. I'm teaching him "G" and "M" too, so he can write "mamãe" :-)))
PROUD MOMMY: GABRIEL APRENDEU O "A-E-I-O-U"!!!!! Eu estava ensinando ele a escrever ontem coisas simples como "eu" "oi" "ai"... Ele agora já pode escrever que nem surfista "ó u auê aí ó!!!!!", rs. Também ensinei a letrinha G de "gato Gabriel" e a letra M, que sendo parecida com "U" minúsculo foi fácil de aprender. Vou ensinar ele a escrever "mamãe" :-)
Today I'm going to my site, take my "kit-witch" for a walk :-) and bath myself in the pure waters of the heart of the forest. I love that place, deeply. Purify myself. Receive the blessings of the Mother.
PROUD MOMMY: GABRIEL LEARNED HIS 'A-E-I-O-U"!!!! I'm teaching him little words like "eu" (means "I" in portuguese") , "oi" (means "hi") , lol and so it goes. I'm teaching him "G" and "M" too, so he can write "mamãe" :-)))
quinta-feira, agosto 22, 2002
On the night masks fell off
I saw a little star shedding a tear from her sky
I looked with naked eyes in the darkness
I bathed my hurt body in moonlight
And whispered a prayer for the blind trickster
For his tricks only work on his own
On the silent night I ran alone
For there wasn't no being to hear
The deepest painful cries of my soul
I saw a child spread diseases in a kiss
making a black rose garden blown around himself
I saw despair on the victims of the wolf inside him while he laughed
On the end of the night I was blessed by the moon
I sat by the computer and thousand digital fingers tried to reach me
But the childs of the web laid on virtuality
While angel's blood dripped from me
And the cries of my soul remained unheard
And the heart of the star stopped to beat
For the masks fell off and I saw the truth behind empty eyes
...There were no one in...
I saw a little star shedding a tear from her sky
I looked with naked eyes in the darkness
I bathed my hurt body in moonlight
And whispered a prayer for the blind trickster
For his tricks only work on his own
On the silent night I ran alone
For there wasn't no being to hear
The deepest painful cries of my soul
I saw a child spread diseases in a kiss
making a black rose garden blown around himself
I saw despair on the victims of the wolf inside him while he laughed
On the end of the night I was blessed by the moon
I sat by the computer and thousand digital fingers tried to reach me
But the childs of the web laid on virtuality
While angel's blood dripped from me
And the cries of my soul remained unheard
And the heart of the star stopped to beat
For the masks fell off and I saw the truth behind empty eyes
...There were no one in...
Acabei de assistir UM CASAMENTO À INDIANA aqui no trabalho. Cara, esse filme é muito bom!!!!!!! Eu adoro esse trabalho :-)
Ainda tá passando no Art West Shopping. Vale a pena! E no Art Fashion Mall tem outro filme muito legal da gente, UM AMOR QUASE PERFEITO.
Ainda tá passando no Art West Shopping. Vale a pena! E no Art Fashion Mall tem outro filme muito legal da gente, UM AMOR QUASE PERFEITO.
quarta-feira, agosto 21, 2002
Mental Disorder Bitch Parade - as músicas que NÃO param de tocar na minha rádio mental. Ugh.
1 - Noventa e Dois - Kid Abelha (...estou esquecendo seu rosto, saudade não é nada gostoso, mesmo em 92...)
2 - Trouble - Cold Play (oh no I see, a spider web and it's me in the middle... ohhh, I never meant to cause you trouble, I never meant to do you wrong)
3 - Island in the Sun - Weezer (Jean Philippe's fault!!!! Can't get this one out of my head :P)
4 - Wonderwall - Oasis (caralho, eu detesto Oasis... minha rádio mental tá a fim de me torturar)
5 - Dazed and Confused - Led Zeppelin (mas essa é por motivos mais pornográficos, rsssss... eu fico SÓ imaginando...)
1 - Noventa e Dois - Kid Abelha (...estou esquecendo seu rosto, saudade não é nada gostoso, mesmo em 92...)
2 - Trouble - Cold Play (oh no I see, a spider web and it's me in the middle... ohhh, I never meant to cause you trouble, I never meant to do you wrong)
3 - Island in the Sun - Weezer (Jean Philippe's fault!!!! Can't get this one out of my head :P)
4 - Wonderwall - Oasis (caralho, eu detesto Oasis... minha rádio mental tá a fim de me torturar)
5 - Dazed and Confused - Led Zeppelin (mas essa é por motivos mais pornográficos, rsssss... eu fico SÓ imaginando...)
Estou ficando louca... o celular não toca!!!! Meu amour français não chama... Ninguém me ama!!! Saudades dos dias em que eu gastava a bateria do celular rapidin e tinha que andar com o carregador na bolsa. Tooooooooooooocaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa criatura!!
I'm getting crazy... my cell phone doesn't ring!!!! Yesterday I talked with my sweet french friend... But today no one loves meeee... I miss the not so distant days where my cell battery went from full to empty in a zap 'cos of all the callings. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnng damn it!
I'm getting crazy... my cell phone doesn't ring!!!! Yesterday I talked with my sweet french friend... But today no one loves meeee... I miss the not so distant days where my cell battery went from full to empty in a zap 'cos of all the callings. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnng damn it!
hoje vou conhecer o Bixcoito no Plaza de Nikiti city... Ai, essa vida virtual que me mata! Afinal, "adotei" ele desde que morava na outra casa! E o blog dele é a primeira cria do meu...
Acho que eu prefiro pessoas que são diferentes com cada pessoa que passa pelo caminho do que pessoas que são iguaizinhas nos mínimos detalhes com todo mundo... é tipow uma rotina pré-estabelecida, a pessoa dá "start" e roda o script, só muda o acessório. Hoje sou eu, amanhã é você e no fundo todo mundo é uma cor diferente sobre o quadradinho branco. Fuck.
I guess I prefer people that acts different to each one that passes by into their life than people that acts EXACTLY the same even in the deepest details with everybody... like, it's like they have a pre-established program: strike "start" key and run the script, only changes the acessories: today it is me, tomorrow it is you and in the end everybody is a different colour over the litle white square. Fuck!
I guess I prefer people that acts different to each one that passes by into their life than people that acts EXACTLY the same even in the deepest details with everybody... like, it's like they have a pre-established program: strike "start" key and run the script, only changes the acessories: today it is me, tomorrow it is you and in the end everybody is a different colour over the litle white square. Fuck!
Mood swings: intraduzíveis.
Estraño
(Nenhum de Nós)
O que eu sinto a respeito dos homens
é estranho
é estranho como é frio
é estranho como eu perdi a fé
é estranho como é estranho
perguntar o nome
O que eu sinto a respeito de nós
é estranho
é estranho como é triste
é estranho como olhar pra trás
é estranho como é estranho
esquecer um nome
[refrão]
Eu amei e acho que algumas vezes
Ela também me amou
Só que o prazer é tão curto
Eu amei e acho que algumas vezes
Ela também me amou
Só que o esquecimento é tão longo
O que eu penso a respeito de tudo é tão
estranho
é estranho como é simples
é estranho como esta canção
é estranho como é estranho
Sussurrar um nome
[refrão]
Estraño
(Nenhum de Nós)
O que eu sinto a respeito dos homens
é estranho
é estranho como é frio
é estranho como eu perdi a fé
é estranho como é estranho
perguntar o nome
O que eu sinto a respeito de nós
é estranho
é estranho como é triste
é estranho como olhar pra trás
é estranho como é estranho
esquecer um nome
[refrão]
Eu amei e acho que algumas vezes
Ela também me amou
Só que o prazer é tão curto
Eu amei e acho que algumas vezes
Ela também me amou
Só que o esquecimento é tão longo
O que eu penso a respeito de tudo é tão
estranho
é estranho como é simples
é estranho como esta canção
é estranho como é estranho
Sussurrar um nome
[refrão]
terça-feira, agosto 20, 2002
Falando em sincronicidade, minha volta ao Rio me trouxe o prazer de esbarrar a cada dia que passa com um velho amigo... Gente que eu não via ha muito tempo, cada um com sua história pra contar. E de vez em quando, algum encontro inesperado que me faz pensar em como a vida é engraçada... Ontem à noite foi um desses dias. Fui pra Niterói encontrar um cliente aí dou de cara com o namorado da namorada... Bronzeado e lindo, acompanhado da filha... Não preciso dizer que o coração pulou dentro do peito... Mas estamos brincando de "amiguinhos" há tanto tempo que nem sei se o que senti foi apenas uma reminiscência de uma paixão platônica de dois anos ou um arroubo de saudosismo... Fiz uma nova amizade no meio do caminho, e nunca pensei que pudesse ter tanta coisa me comum com alguém, até no quesito mau gosto, rs. Espero sinceramente que essa amizade dure, estou precisando de uma amiga. Dia seguinte, estou eu pegando as barcas e QUEM surge na minha frente? R., meu menino-homem-objeto preferido, rs. Continua dono daquela beleza exótica que me atrai tanto, moreno alto dos olhos grandes e amendoados, cor de mel, a boca carnuda e sexy... Um pouco mais velho, um pouco cansado talvez. Viajamos juntos, ele me lembrou os tempos em que era o menino doce e gentil que me assustou quando disse a idade, e não o babaca poser das boates de alguns anos depois.
Pela web fico sabendo que finalmente meu druida deu o passo que precisava dar na sua vida... Meu coração está junto dele, assim como meu carinho. Peço às Gentis que guiem seu caminho e que o tempo de Brigith possa trazer as mudanças que meu leão preferido tanto necessita... Ventos bons também sopram da Alemanha, me trazendo o gosto daquele show em Ipanema... E a cada dia que passa, quanto mais falo com meu anjo francês trop loin de moi mais quero falar... Já vi esse filme vezes o suficiente pra saber como ele termina. MAS nesse caso eu espero que termine com uma passagem de avião da França para o Rio de Janeiro e um passeio pelo aterro do Flamengo num por de sol de primavera... Porque não?
Speaking about sinchronicity, my return to Rio brought me the pleasure of each day find an old friend in the middle of street... People that I didn't see there's a lot of time, each with a new story to tell. And sometimes, some unexpected meeting that makes me think about how weird is life ... Yesterday night was one of these days. I went to Niterói to meet a client when I'm face to face with the girlfriend's boyfriend... Bronzed, so beautiful, and with his daughter... I don't need to say that my heart jumped inside my chest... But we are playing "good friends" there's some time by now and I dunno if what I felt was only a reminiscence of a platonic passion of two years or a sudden nostalgic feeling... I made a new friendship too (so I hope), and I never thought that anyone could have so much in common with me, even the bad taste, lol. I hope sincerely that this friendship lasts, I am needing a friend. Next day, I'm catching the barks to job and WHO appears in my front? R., my all-time favorite boy-man-object, lol. Still possesses that exotic beauty that drives me crazy, tall and dark, great hazel eyes, thick sexy lips... A little older, a little tired perhaps. We travel together, and he seemed more like the times when he was the sweet and gentile boy that awed me when he said his age (so young!) than the stupid poser I saw on the nightclubs some years later.
Web tells me that my druida finally took the direction he should in his life... My heart is with him, as well as my all my tenderness. I pray to the Kindly Ones to guide his path and that the time of Brigith bring him the changes that my beloved lion needs so... Good winds also blow from Germany, bringing me back the taste of that show in Ipanema... And every day more and more, the more I talk with my french angel trop loin of moi the more I want to speak... Saw this film too many time to not knowing how it ends. BUT in this case I hope that it finishes with an airplane ticket from France to Rio De Janeiro and a stroll at Flamengo's Park on a beautiful spring twilight... Why not?
Pela web fico sabendo que finalmente meu druida deu o passo que precisava dar na sua vida... Meu coração está junto dele, assim como meu carinho. Peço às Gentis que guiem seu caminho e que o tempo de Brigith possa trazer as mudanças que meu leão preferido tanto necessita... Ventos bons também sopram da Alemanha, me trazendo o gosto daquele show em Ipanema... E a cada dia que passa, quanto mais falo com meu anjo francês trop loin de moi mais quero falar... Já vi esse filme vezes o suficiente pra saber como ele termina. MAS nesse caso eu espero que termine com uma passagem de avião da França para o Rio de Janeiro e um passeio pelo aterro do Flamengo num por de sol de primavera... Porque não?
Speaking about sinchronicity, my return to Rio brought me the pleasure of each day find an old friend in the middle of street... People that I didn't see there's a lot of time, each with a new story to tell. And sometimes, some unexpected meeting that makes me think about how weird is life ... Yesterday night was one of these days. I went to Niterói to meet a client when I'm face to face with the girlfriend's boyfriend... Bronzed, so beautiful, and with his daughter... I don't need to say that my heart jumped inside my chest... But we are playing "good friends" there's some time by now and I dunno if what I felt was only a reminiscence of a platonic passion of two years or a sudden nostalgic feeling... I made a new friendship too (so I hope), and I never thought that anyone could have so much in common with me, even the bad taste, lol. I hope sincerely that this friendship lasts, I am needing a friend. Next day, I'm catching the barks to job and WHO appears in my front? R., my all-time favorite boy-man-object, lol. Still possesses that exotic beauty that drives me crazy, tall and dark, great hazel eyes, thick sexy lips... A little older, a little tired perhaps. We travel together, and he seemed more like the times when he was the sweet and gentile boy that awed me when he said his age (so young!) than the stupid poser I saw on the nightclubs some years later.
Web tells me that my druida finally took the direction he should in his life... My heart is with him, as well as my all my tenderness. I pray to the Kindly Ones to guide his path and that the time of Brigith bring him the changes that my beloved lion needs so... Good winds also blow from Germany, bringing me back the taste of that show in Ipanema... And every day more and more, the more I talk with my french angel trop loin of moi the more I want to speak... Saw this film too many time to not knowing how it ends. BUT in this case I hope that it finishes with an airplane ticket from France to Rio De Janeiro and a stroll at Flamengo's Park on a beautiful spring twilight... Why not?
domingo, agosto 18, 2002
Engraçado... Estou esquecendo o rosto dele. A gente não se vê desde junho, acho. Eu não consigo me lembrar... Lembro da voz dele, lembro do olhar e alguns bons momentos. Às vezes fico com medo de algum dia passar por ele na rua e sequer reconhecê-lo. Alguém que me tocou tanto. Alguém que mesmo me machucou tanto... É triste, mas verdade. Ele nunca teve nada dos homens que normalmente passam na minha vida. Todos eles tinham algo marcante, único, eu poderia reconhecê-los de olhos fechados. Ele simplesmente aconteceu, um acidente, um clichê (beijar o amigo no meio do filme), algo pra curtir que eu levei a sério demais... E quando eu paro pra olhar pra trás, no fundo é só um garoto... Talvez um garoto que tenha preferido machucar para não ser machucado (embora eu ache isso idiota), mas criança ainda, com direito a piadas bobas e provocações que não funcionam mais porque deixei de me importar... Sei lá, só perdi o saco. Mas gosto dele, espero que se torne um homem maravilhoso... Sei que a gente não vai se ver mais, mesmo que a gente se fale ao telefone. Não tenho espaço pra ele nessa nova fase da minha vida. MAS é estranho não conseguir lembrar como ele era... É cada dia que passa só uma voz no telefone... Eu gostei desse garoto, gostei MESMO. Como posso estar esquecendo dele tão rápido?
Funny... I can't remember his face anymore. We don't see each other since june, I guess. I can't remember, really. I remember his voice, the look in his eyes and some good moments together, mostly sensations. And I'm scared of someday pass by him on the streets and just not recognize him... Someone who touched me so. Someone that even hurted me so deep. Sad, but true. He never had anything from the men that marked my life, my loves, I could recognize any of them even with my eyes closed... He just happened, half acidentally, a cliché (girl kisses boy in the middle of movie), something for fun that suddenly I took too seriously... And when I look at it now, in the end, he's nothing but a boy... Maybe a boy that preferred to hurt before being hurt (although I find it stupid) but still boyish, making dumb jokes and still trying to push me even if it does'nt work - I don't care anymore, lol. BUT I like him, I hope he becomes a great man. I know I won't see him again, even if we still talk on the phone. He just doesn't fit in my new life. BUT I feel so weird that I can't remember his face anymore... Day by day he turns more and more just a voice on the phone... I LOVED this young man, loved him DEEPLY. How can I be forgeting him so fast?
Funny... I can't remember his face anymore. We don't see each other since june, I guess. I can't remember, really. I remember his voice, the look in his eyes and some good moments together, mostly sensations. And I'm scared of someday pass by him on the streets and just not recognize him... Someone who touched me so. Someone that even hurted me so deep. Sad, but true. He never had anything from the men that marked my life, my loves, I could recognize any of them even with my eyes closed... He just happened, half acidentally, a cliché (girl kisses boy in the middle of movie), something for fun that suddenly I took too seriously... And when I look at it now, in the end, he's nothing but a boy... Maybe a boy that preferred to hurt before being hurt (although I find it stupid) but still boyish, making dumb jokes and still trying to push me even if it does'nt work - I don't care anymore, lol. BUT I like him, I hope he becomes a great man. I know I won't see him again, even if we still talk on the phone. He just doesn't fit in my new life. BUT I feel so weird that I can't remember his face anymore... Day by day he turns more and more just a voice on the phone... I LOVED this young man, loved him DEEPLY. How can I be forgeting him so fast?
Sexta à noite fui pro apê da Ana com o famoso case de CD embaixo do braço... Uma noite regada a pizza de chocolate e O Fabuloso Destino de Amélie Poulain. De quebra ela ainda me empresta CDs da Loreena Mckennitt pra gravar!!! O projeto da Justiça Feminina tem tudo pra dar certo e começar a deslanchar...
Andar pelo Rio é sempre MUITO bom... Rever os amigos MELHOR ainda.
Andar pelo Rio é sempre MUITO bom... Rever os amigos MELHOR ainda.
A página do Selig para Palm é uma piada!
Matéria: "detidos cineastas e atores que gravavam cena de nudez na rua". Aí você clica e lê "Ele tem mobilidade e consegue sentir agora todas as suas extremidades, o que é um bom sinal". Mas hein?! Nãão, não é o que vocês estão pensando... Era uma matéria sobre um acidente com aquele atorzinho canastra de Barrados no Baile.
Aih mais abaixo, onde leio "Diretora faz homenagem a Gregorio de Mattos" o link dá numa análise de site de dieta. Tah certo que o cara tinha o apelido de "boca do inferno" mas isso eh exagero... Franchement...
Matéria: "detidos cineastas e atores que gravavam cena de nudez na rua". Aí você clica e lê "Ele tem mobilidade e consegue sentir agora todas as suas extremidades, o que é um bom sinal". Mas hein?! Nãão, não é o que vocês estão pensando... Era uma matéria sobre um acidente com aquele atorzinho canastra de Barrados no Baile.
Aih mais abaixo, onde leio "Diretora faz homenagem a Gregorio de Mattos" o link dá numa análise de site de dieta. Tah certo que o cara tinha o apelido de "boca do inferno" mas isso eh exagero... Franchement...
quinta-feira, agosto 15, 2002
Comecei a trabalhar num dia de sabá, o Dia da Senhora, o dia da jovem Brígida e suas fogueiras, velas e luzes trazendo com elas o fim deste longo inverno e a beleza do céu azul e do calor do sol. E com a natureza se renovando esplendorosamente ao meu redor, desabrocho também, sentindo essa magia crescendo em cada folha, no cheiro gostoso do ar e na brisa refrescante do Vento, que vem brincar com meus cabelos, procurando canções e segredos...
I started to work in a sabath's day, Day of the Lady, the day of young Brigith and its bonfires, candles and light bringing with them the end of this long winter and the beauty of the blue sky and the heat of the sun. And with the nature renewing itself so splendorously around me, I open myself, feeling this magic growing in each leaf, smelling this fresh cool air and the cooling breeze of the Wind, that comes to play with my hair, looking for songs and secrets...
I started to work in a sabath's day, Day of the Lady, the day of young Brigith and its bonfires, candles and light bringing with them the end of this long winter and the beauty of the blue sky and the heat of the sun. And with the nature renewing itself so splendorously around me, I open myself, feeling this magic growing in each leaf, smelling this fresh cool air and the cooling breeze of the Wind, that comes to play with my hair, looking for songs and secrets...
quarta-feira, agosto 14, 2002
terça-feira, agosto 13, 2002
Embora eu escreva para os amigos, às vezes sou surpreendida por um e-mail novo no meu Hotmail de alguém que de um jeito ou de outro descobriu o meu cantinho. Alguns me perguntando como tenho coragem de me expor tanto... E outros, como um que recebi hoje, que me deixam sem palavras de tão boba, afinal não faço nada além de falar um bocado, rs... Mas o legal é descobrir que esse espaço serve não só pra falar um pouquinho de mim pros amigos, mas pra trazer novos amigos... Trouxe até mais do que isso, vide meu petit affair com o sr. cabeça de gelo, rs! Então sei lá... Acho que ainda tem muita história pra viver e contar. Uns dias com lágrimas nos olhos, outros com um sorriso apaixonado e mesmo aqueles dias vazios em que nem dá vontade de postar...
Although I write for my friends, sometimes I'm surprised by a new email in my Hotmail of someone that in a way or another discovered this little place here. Some ask me how I have courage to expose myself this much... Others, as this one I received today, leave me without words and blushing, after all I don't do nothing more than talk a lot about myself, lol... But it's cool to discover that this space serves not only to tell a bit of me to my friends, but also to bring new friends... It brought even more than this, see my petit affair with Mr. Icehead... Then dunno... I think that I still have a lot of stories to live and tell. Some days with tears in my eyes, others with a great passionate smile in my face and even those empty days where there isn't even anything at all to say...
Although I write for my friends, sometimes I'm surprised by a new email in my Hotmail of someone that in a way or another discovered this little place here. Some ask me how I have courage to expose myself this much... Others, as this one I received today, leave me without words and blushing, after all I don't do nothing more than talk a lot about myself, lol... But it's cool to discover that this space serves not only to tell a bit of me to my friends, but also to bring new friends... It brought even more than this, see my petit affair with Mr. Icehead... Then dunno... I think that I still have a lot of stories to live and tell. Some days with tears in my eyes, others with a great passionate smile in my face and even those empty days where there isn't even anything at all to say...
Em Minas acabaram registrando a Wicca como religião para que se pudesse lutar pelos nossos direitos sem sermos caracterizados como "seita". Normalmente eu estou me fodendo para a lei dos homens mas nesse caso fico mais aliviada. Afinal saí da Planeta por preconceito religioso deles (depois de 3 anos trabalhando lá sem nunca esconder que sou uma bruxa!!!) embora não seja wiccana.
Aquela galera que gosta de botar regras em tudo, que lança livrinho "vire bruxa em 24 lições" e aparece na TV está se torcendo de raiva. Eu estou me divertindo com a polêmica.
Não gostou? Faça o que tu queres pois é tudo da lei...
On Minas state they ended registering Wicca as religion so that we could fight for our rights without being characterized as "seita". Normally I am fucking myself for the law of men but at this case specially I am more alliviated. After all I left Planet for religious prejudice of them (after 3 years working there without never hiding that I am a witch) although I'm not wiccan. That "people" that likes rule everything, that launches books " turns witch in 24 lessons" style and appears on TV posing is twisting itself of anger. I'm having a lot of fun myself with the controversy. Didn't like it hon? Do what thou want musta be da law...
Aquela galera que gosta de botar regras em tudo, que lança livrinho "vire bruxa em 24 lições" e aparece na TV está se torcendo de raiva. Eu estou me divertindo com a polêmica.
Não gostou? Faça o que tu queres pois é tudo da lei...
On Minas state they ended registering Wicca as religion so that we could fight for our rights without being characterized as "seita". Normally I am fucking myself for the law of men but at this case specially I am more alliviated. After all I left Planet for religious prejudice of them (after 3 years working there without never hiding that I am a witch) although I'm not wiccan. That "people" that likes rule everything, that launches books " turns witch in 24 lessons" style and appears on TV posing is twisting itself of anger. I'm having a lot of fun myself with the controversy. Didn't like it hon? Do what thou want musta be da law...
Meninos e meninas, antes que eu me esqueça - este ano não deve rolar festa de aniversário pro Gabriel, só na escola dele. A idéia é dia 7 ou 8 de setembro fazer um piquenique na Quinta da Boa Vista com direito a ida ao Zoológico :-)
Até agora a única coisa na wishlist dele é um carrinho de controle remoto, mas joguinhos de computador educativos, jogos de palavras (ele tá aprendendo as letrinhas, lembram?), livros legais e fitas de vídeo do Sitio do Pica Pau Amarelo também estão no roteiro.
Boys and girls, before I forget - this year we're not planning an anniversary party to Gabriel, only the traditional at his school (for those . The idea is day 7 or 8 of September to make a picnic on "Quinta of Boa Vista" giving right to a visit at Rio's Zoo :-) So far the only thing on his wishlist this year is a remote-control toy car, but computer educative games, word games, cool books and videotapes of "Sitio do Pica Pau Amarelo" (a great book that inspired a cool TV serie) also are in the script.
Até agora a única coisa na wishlist dele é um carrinho de controle remoto, mas joguinhos de computador educativos, jogos de palavras (ele tá aprendendo as letrinhas, lembram?), livros legais e fitas de vídeo do Sitio do Pica Pau Amarelo também estão no roteiro.
Boys and girls, before I forget - this year we're not planning an anniversary party to Gabriel, only the traditional at his school (for those . The idea is day 7 or 8 of September to make a picnic on "Quinta of Boa Vista" giving right to a visit at Rio's Zoo :-) So far the only thing on his wishlist this year is a remote-control toy car, but computer educative games, word games, cool books and videotapes of "Sitio do Pica Pau Amarelo" (a great book that inspired a cool TV serie) also are in the script.
Ana não gosta que eu coloque o nome dela no blog porque um bad hacker cismou com ela e achou muito legal fazer a vida dela um inferno ao melhor estilo Sandra Bullock em A Rede... MAS eu estou tão feliz pela minha amiga que não arresisti! PAAARABEÉÉENS POR TER PASSADO NA OAB!!!
Se precisarem de uma boa advogada, já sabem onde encontrar. Ela tá se especializando em justiça feminina. Mail-me que encaminho pra ela. Se ela me perdoar, rs!!!!!
My friend Ana doesn't like that I talk about her here because a bad hacker foudn it funny to make her life a hell on Sandra Bullock's Network movie best style ... BUT I am so happy for my friend that I have to say! CONGRAAAATS FOR PASSING IN OAB (our advocacy's brazilian order proof - she's now officialy a lawyer)! If you need a good lawyer, know where to find. She's specializing in feminine justice. I just hope she doesn't kill me for this, lol!
Se precisarem de uma boa advogada, já sabem onde encontrar. Ela tá se especializando em justiça feminina. Mail-me que encaminho pra ela. Se ela me perdoar, rs!!!!!
My friend Ana doesn't like that I talk about her here because a bad hacker foudn it funny to make her life a hell on Sandra Bullock's Network movie best style ... BUT I am so happy for my friend that I have to say! CONGRAAAATS FOR PASSING IN OAB (our advocacy's brazilian order proof - she's now officialy a lawyer)! If you need a good lawyer, know where to find. She's specializing in feminine justice. I just hope she doesn't kill me for this, lol!
sábado, agosto 10, 2002
quarta-feira, agosto 07, 2002
Sou de lua... E muitas vezes me sinto como na música do tio Renato... "Só me deixe aqui quieto que isso passa..." Tem dia que nem eu me entendo... Estou feliz, sabe. ESTOU TRABALHANDO COM CINEMA!!!! E parece que vou ficar por aki um bocado de tempo, se tudo der certo. Tá curioso? Clique aqui.
I have moonblood... And many times I feel myself as in unca Renato Russo's songs... "only leave me here quiet in my place this will pass by... " There's days that even I don't understand myself... I am happy, ya know. I AM WORKING WITH CINEMA! Seems like I'm coming to stay, if everything works fine. Curious? Clickhere.
I have moonblood... And many times I feel myself as in unca Renato Russo's songs... "only leave me here quiet in my place this will pass by... " There's days that even I don't understand myself... I am happy, ya know. I AM WORKING WITH CINEMA! Seems like I'm coming to stay, if everything works fine. Curious? Click
As coisas estão mudando... Mas eu lembro de quem eu era quando escrevi A Casa Vazia. Estar sozinha mesmo com alguém adormecido ao seu lado. Talvez seja DISSO que tenho medo. Uma das coisas que mais me doeram nos últimos tempos foi quando eu perguntei, com aquele jeitinho carinhoso e estúpido que só ex-namoradas sabem ter pra se machucar: "Você não sente falta de dormir abraçadinho comigo e de acordar ao meu lado?" só para ouvir "você não foi a primeira nem a única..." Verdades que doem. Companhia talvez seja a melhor forma de anestesia... MAS não quer dizer nada. Não me lembro de um dia na minha vida em que pudesse relaxar, deitar minha cabeça contra o peito de alguém e simplesmente confiar... Porque é tão difícil? Gostaria simplesmente de ter alguém do meu lado naquelas horas vazias da noite em que acordo desesperadamente precisando de um amigo, um pouco de alívio, um abraço. Acho que preciso de companhia para a ALMA. Tenho medo de me abrir para alguém e esse alguém me violentar emocionalmente outra vez... Medo de ser usada... de novo. Medo de ser abusada... de novo. Sou frágil demais para isso, nem sei se agüento. MAS a solidão às vezes dá desespero. Não poder acreditar que um dia vai ser diferente me magoa tanto... VIVER com medo, viver pela metade. Me dar sem jamais poder me dar de verdade... Porque é tão difícil se o que eu preciso é tão pouquinho?
Things here are changing... But I remember the time when I wrote the Empty House. To be alone even with somebody asleep at your side. Perhaps THIS is what I fear. One of the things that hurted me more in the last times were when I asked, with that dull passionate way that only former-ex-girlfriends have to hurt themselves: "Don't you miss sleeping embraced to me and waking up at my side?" to hear "...you were not the first nor the only one..." Truths that hurt. Perhaps company is the best form of anesthesia ... BUT that means nothing. I don't remember a day in my life when I could relax, lie down my head against the chest of somebody and simply trust him... Why is it so difficult? I would simply like to have somebody at my side on those empty hours on the middle of night where I wake up needing desperately a friend, a little relief, a hug only, nothing more. I think what I really need is company for the SOUL. I fear so much to open myself to somebody and so this somebody come and violent me emotionally another time... Fear of being used... again. Fear of being abused... again. I am too much fragile for this, dunno if I support to pass for this again. BUT the loneliness sometimes makes me desperate. Not to be able to believe that one day it can be different hurts me so... TO LIVE with fear, to live a half-life. To give myself without never being able to give myself truly... Why is it so difficult if what I need seems to be so little?
Things here are changing... But I remember the time when I wrote the Empty House. To be alone even with somebody asleep at your side. Perhaps THIS is what I fear. One of the things that hurted me more in the last times were when I asked, with that dull passionate way that only former-ex-girlfriends have to hurt themselves: "Don't you miss sleeping embraced to me and waking up at my side?" to hear "...you were not the first nor the only one..." Truths that hurt. Perhaps company is the best form of anesthesia ... BUT that means nothing. I don't remember a day in my life when I could relax, lie down my head against the chest of somebody and simply trust him... Why is it so difficult? I would simply like to have somebody at my side on those empty hours on the middle of night where I wake up needing desperately a friend, a little relief, a hug only, nothing more. I think what I really need is company for the SOUL. I fear so much to open myself to somebody and so this somebody come and violent me emotionally another time... Fear of being used... again. Fear of being abused... again. I am too much fragile for this, dunno if I support to pass for this again. BUT the loneliness sometimes makes me desperate. Not to be able to believe that one day it can be different hurts me so... TO LIVE with fear, to live a half-life. To give myself without never being able to give myself truly... Why is it so difficult if what I need seems to be so little?
AND STILL THERE'S TIME TO FEEL LIKE THIS... BITTER BITTER STILL...
Laine girl, Laine girl
All alone in your big blue bed
Heart almost break in two
Can you still have hope to mend it?
Loneliness is real
The pain you feel
Years pass by, Laine girl
"Will I have more silver in my hair
And lines in my face
And still lay asleep at night
With no one at my side?"
Laine girl, Laine girl
Writing lines on the dark of your bedroom
So to not forget the pain
Is it all the same of the other nights?
Who will know the pain
that is inside your eyes?
Laine girl, Laine girl
Silver in your red dyed hair
Can't give you peace at midnight
Dreadfully waking from frightening dreams
No one is there to hold you dear
The cry dies in the mouth
You have no right to choke in tears
Laine girl, Laine girl
So little in your little life
Tears and sobs over your pillow
Daydreaming of peace and oblivion
in the middle of dark
Laine girl, Laine girl
Making poetry from all the lies they told you
Making art with all the pain you've gotten through
You did believe all your life when they said you
Crazy, loonie, looser, you should die
Oh, you even, even tried
"But what sense makes if you
want to know the end of the story
and you're not there?"
You can hide behind happiness pills
Untill the night it comes again
Eyes wide open, heart pounding fast
Laine girl, and the emptyness
Oh, the emptyness
Laine girl, you pray until the end
To rest in peace, to die, to live
To love without breaking your heart again
But you're feeling so old baby,
So lonely baby
Laine girl, Laine girl
The story never comes to an end
If you don't write it
Open your eyes and let time pass by
Close your eyes, dry your face and wait
Laine girl, is it just all the same?
Making little suicides
Smoking clove cigarettes
Just because they make you die
Laine girl, dreaming of love
healing, rescue, cure, finish it
Waking alone in your big blue bed
Loneliness is real
The pain you feel
Writing lines in the dark
Is it all the same? All the same?
Laine girl, Laine girl
All alone in your big blue bed
Heart almost break in two
Can you still have hope to mend it?
Loneliness is real
The pain you feel
Years pass by, Laine girl
"Will I have more silver in my hair
And lines in my face
And still lay asleep at night
With no one at my side?"
Laine girl, Laine girl
Writing lines on the dark of your bedroom
So to not forget the pain
Is it all the same of the other nights?
Who will know the pain
that is inside your eyes?
Laine girl, Laine girl
Silver in your red dyed hair
Can't give you peace at midnight
Dreadfully waking from frightening dreams
No one is there to hold you dear
The cry dies in the mouth
You have no right to choke in tears
Laine girl, Laine girl
So little in your little life
Tears and sobs over your pillow
Daydreaming of peace and oblivion
in the middle of dark
Laine girl, Laine girl
Making poetry from all the lies they told you
Making art with all the pain you've gotten through
You did believe all your life when they said you
Crazy, loonie, looser, you should die
Oh, you even, even tried
"But what sense makes if you
want to know the end of the story
and you're not there?"
You can hide behind happiness pills
Untill the night it comes again
Eyes wide open, heart pounding fast
Laine girl, and the emptyness
Oh, the emptyness
Laine girl, you pray until the end
To rest in peace, to die, to live
To love without breaking your heart again
But you're feeling so old baby,
So lonely baby
Laine girl, Laine girl
The story never comes to an end
If you don't write it
Open your eyes and let time pass by
Close your eyes, dry your face and wait
Laine girl, is it just all the same?
Making little suicides
Smoking clove cigarettes
Just because they make you die
Laine girl, dreaming of love
healing, rescue, cure, finish it
Waking alone in your big blue bed
Loneliness is real
The pain you feel
Writing lines in the dark
Is it all the same? All the same?
terça-feira, agosto 06, 2002
O cara gordo ao meu lado na van na volta pra casa puxa assunto perguntando escatologicamente se eu havia visto os dois corpos de manhã na praça perto da minha casa... Respondo secamente "Sim, vi." E corto logo o assunto "Me desculpe, mas não sou fã de violência". E fico pensando com meus botões nessa realidade Blade Runner em que a gente vive... Há dois dias assaltaram as lojas da outra entrada do meu prédio. Seqüestraram e assassinaram um amigo do meu pai pouco antes da minha ida pra Sampa. Deixo meu filho de manhã na escolinha, sigo rua abaixo para o ponto de vans e "tá lá o corpo estendido no chão". A única coisa que consigo pensar é: "espero que tenham sido os dois assaltantes"... Frio assim. E fico me perguntando como pode que eu seja tão fria e distante com algo tão chocante e tão sensível, sensível até demais com as coisas do meu coração, da minha vida, do meu umbiguinho enfim... Questão de sobrevivência, talvez? Ou a gente só acaba ficando anestesiado? Sou capaz de sentir a dor na alma do mundo e incapaz de sentir compaixão pelo corpo estendido no chão... Cruel. E real.
Mas ainda não entendo quem transforma todo esse sangue em espetáculo, notícia, algo interessante pra comentar com alguém na viagem de van. NÃO entendo quem desacelera o carro, espicha o pescoço, faz círculos em volta dos corpos, essa curiosidade mórbida, essa sede de sangue... Isso me dá nojo, um nojo profundo desse tipo de gente. Não compartilho, não comungo com isso. Posso estar anestesiada, mas não vou jamais tratar a violência dessa forma estúpida e banal. Às vezes eu me espanto quando me pego pensando que sim, acho que todo estuprador tinha de ser no mínimo vítima da mesma violência que praticou ou então morto... O menino assaltante de hoje é o assassino de amanhã. Só falta o curso de especialização e o upgrade fornecido por uma boa passagem pela prisão. Realidade Blade Runner... Fico lembrando da secretária do meu ex-trabalho, a namorada do namorado. Loirinha, meiguinha, crente, modelo de virtude e virgem como a Britney Spears... :-) Um doce de menina. MAS adorava ler os cadernos mais populares dos jornais e reclamava quando vinham fotos em preto e branco "porque não dá pra ver o sangue". ISSO vindo de uma menina que viu um amigo morrer baleado por um assaltante na sua frente (diz ela)... Nessas horas não tinha nada de meigo no brilho sádico e na curiosidade mórbida que eu via no seu olhar...
Fat guy at my side in the van on the way home forces scatologicallty a conversation asking me if I had seen the two bodies this morning at the square close to my house... I answer dryly " Yes, I saw." And I cut the subject "forgive me, I am not fond of violence". So I keep thinking to myself about this reality Blade Runner we live by... It has two days someone assaulted the store of the other entry of my building. Bandits had kidnapped and assassinated a friend of my father before I went to Saint Paul. I leave my son this morning at kindergarten, come down the street going to vans's stop and " there goes the body extended in the soil" like a brazilian song says. The only thing I come to think is: " I hope that they were those two assailants of later night"... Cold thus. I ask myself how can I be so cold and distant with something so chocking and so sensible, sensible until the end with the things of my heart, of my little boring life... Question of survival, perhaps? Or people finish being anestesiated by everyday's violence? I am capable to feel pain in the soul of the world and incapable to feel compassion for the body extended in the soil... Cruel. And REAL. But still I do not understand what transforms this blood into spectacle, notice, something interesting to comment with somebody in the trip back home. I do not understand who decelerates his vehicle, stretches his neck, makes circles around bodies, this morbid curiosity, this thirst of blood... This kind of people gives me urge to vomit. I can't share, comungate with this kind of stuff. I can be anesthesiated, but I never will deal with violence this dull banal way. Sometimes I astonish myself when I catch me thinking that yes, I think all violators had to be at least victim of the same violence they practised or then be dead... The boy assailant of today is the assassin of tomorrow. He only lacks the course of specialization and upgrade supplied by a good time past in the prison. Blade Runner Reality ... I remember the secretary of my last work, the girlfriend of the boyfriend. Blondie, sweetie, protestant, model of virtue and virgin as Britney Spears...: -) A candy girl. BUT she adored to read the most popular and bloody periodicals and complained when came photos in black and white of murdered people "because she couldn't see the blood". THIS comes from a girl who saw a friend die in front of her murdered by an assailant (says she)... At these times she hadn't nothing sweet in the sadist brightness and the morbid curiosity onto the look in her eyes...
Mas ainda não entendo quem transforma todo esse sangue em espetáculo, notícia, algo interessante pra comentar com alguém na viagem de van. NÃO entendo quem desacelera o carro, espicha o pescoço, faz círculos em volta dos corpos, essa curiosidade mórbida, essa sede de sangue... Isso me dá nojo, um nojo profundo desse tipo de gente. Não compartilho, não comungo com isso. Posso estar anestesiada, mas não vou jamais tratar a violência dessa forma estúpida e banal. Às vezes eu me espanto quando me pego pensando que sim, acho que todo estuprador tinha de ser no mínimo vítima da mesma violência que praticou ou então morto... O menino assaltante de hoje é o assassino de amanhã. Só falta o curso de especialização e o upgrade fornecido por uma boa passagem pela prisão. Realidade Blade Runner... Fico lembrando da secretária do meu ex-trabalho, a namorada do namorado. Loirinha, meiguinha, crente, modelo de virtude e virgem como a Britney Spears... :-) Um doce de menina. MAS adorava ler os cadernos mais populares dos jornais e reclamava quando vinham fotos em preto e branco "porque não dá pra ver o sangue". ISSO vindo de uma menina que viu um amigo morrer baleado por um assaltante na sua frente (diz ela)... Nessas horas não tinha nada de meigo no brilho sádico e na curiosidade mórbida que eu via no seu olhar...
Fat guy at my side in the van on the way home forces scatologicallty a conversation asking me if I had seen the two bodies this morning at the square close to my house... I answer dryly " Yes, I saw." And I cut the subject "forgive me, I am not fond of violence". So I keep thinking to myself about this reality Blade Runner we live by... It has two days someone assaulted the store of the other entry of my building. Bandits had kidnapped and assassinated a friend of my father before I went to Saint Paul. I leave my son this morning at kindergarten, come down the street going to vans's stop and " there goes the body extended in the soil" like a brazilian song says. The only thing I come to think is: " I hope that they were those two assailants of later night"... Cold thus. I ask myself how can I be so cold and distant with something so chocking and so sensible, sensible until the end with the things of my heart, of my little boring life... Question of survival, perhaps? Or people finish being anestesiated by everyday's violence? I am capable to feel pain in the soul of the world and incapable to feel compassion for the body extended in the soil... Cruel. And REAL. But still I do not understand what transforms this blood into spectacle, notice, something interesting to comment with somebody in the trip back home. I do not understand who decelerates his vehicle, stretches his neck, makes circles around bodies, this morbid curiosity, this thirst of blood... This kind of people gives me urge to vomit. I can't share, comungate with this kind of stuff. I can be anesthesiated, but I never will deal with violence this dull banal way. Sometimes I astonish myself when I catch me thinking that yes, I think all violators had to be at least victim of the same violence they practised or then be dead... The boy assailant of today is the assassin of tomorrow. He only lacks the course of specialization and upgrade supplied by a good time past in the prison. Blade Runner Reality ... I remember the secretary of my last work, the girlfriend of the boyfriend. Blondie, sweetie, protestant, model of virtue and virgin as Britney Spears...: -) A candy girl. BUT she adored to read the most popular and bloody periodicals and complained when came photos in black and white of murdered people "because she couldn't see the blood". THIS comes from a girl who saw a friend die in front of her murdered by an assailant (says she)... At these times she hadn't nothing sweet in the sadist brightness and the morbid curiosity onto the look in her eyes...
domingo, agosto 04, 2002
Então, meninos e meninas... Estou de volta ao Centro do Rio. Sentir o cheiro das ruas, do ar, a efervescência louca da Cinelândia em meio ao caos de camelôs, obras idiotas e panfletagem política, executivos, ambulantes e mendigos, o vapor sutil que se levanta do asfalto nas primeiras horas das noites frias de inverno... Estar próxima do CCBB, poder andar novamente pelo Arco do Telles... É... estou finalmente de volta em CASA. O casulo foi necessário depois que me separei, mas acho que tá na hora de tirar as asas pra fora, não? Aos pouquinhos, devagarinho. Dar tempo pra elas secarem... Quero voar multicolorida, linda, leve e solta pelos céus da cidade, tocar bocas e corações sob as bênçãos do luar...
Deve rolar bebemoração do novo emprego em grande estilo, no Amarelinho, em data a confirmar... Depois que o Henrique e a Cris voltarem de viagem, senão não tem graça...
So, boys and girls... I'm back to the< b>Center of Rio. To feel its smell on the streets, the air, the idiotic bubbling insane person of Cinelandia giving way to the chaos of peddlers, workmanships and handbilling politics, executives, ambulant and beggars, the subtle vapor that raises of asphalt in the first hours of the cold nights of winter... To be next to CCBB, to walk again on the Arc of Telles... Yeah... Finally I'm back to HOME. The cocoon was necessary later when I divorced, but I guess it's time to take off the wings, don't? Easiyly, slowly, giving them time to dry properly... I want to fly multicolorfully, pretty, free and untied over the skies of the city, to touch mouths and hearts under the blessings of moonlight... celebration of the new job in great style, on Amarelinho, date to confirm... As soon asHenrique and Cris come back of their vacances, or it won't be the coolest...
Deve rolar bebemoração do novo emprego em grande estilo, no Amarelinho, em data a confirmar... Depois que o Henrique e a Cris voltarem de viagem, senão não tem graça...
So, boys and girls... I'm back to the< b>Center of Rio. To feel its smell on the streets, the air, the idiotic bubbling insane person of Cinelandia giving way to the chaos of peddlers, workmanships and handbilling politics, executives, ambulant and beggars, the subtle vapor that raises of asphalt in the first hours of the cold nights of winter... To be next to CCBB, to walk again on the Arc of Telles... Yeah... Finally I'm back to HOME. The cocoon was necessary later when I divorced, but I guess it's time to take off the wings, don't? Easiyly, slowly, giving them time to dry properly... I want to fly multicolorfully, pretty, free and untied over the skies of the city, to touch mouths and hearts under the blessings of moonlight... celebration of the new job in great style, on Amarelinho, date to confirm... As soon asHenrique and Cris come back of their vacances, or it won't be the coolest...
Acabou a novela da Telemar, pelo menos por enquanto... Graças a um daqueles técnicos que fazem jus ao nome... Bom, estou de volta online, rs...
CLARO que aproveitei a oportunidade em Sampa pra matar um pouco a saudade do meu druida... Pena que ele estava tão sem tempo... Mas as Gentis sabem o que fazem, escolhas de vida, ele fez as dele e eu fiz as minhas.
Minhas notas de viagem deram quatro páginas, fora o material de anotação da DDW... Desisti de postar aqui, é prolixidade demais até pra mim! Foram três dias intensos, vividos com paixão e muito produtivos, e que acabaram tão rapidamente como começaram... E que foram também uma ponte para o que estava por vir. Voltei para a empresa na sexta para descobrir que haviam encontrado outro designer para ficar no meu lugar, me deixando livre para voar e começar no meu novo job. No quesito coração, também, aproveitei a viagem para botar a cabeça no lugar e me lembrar de QUEM eu sou. Uma pessoa que não tem a menor idéia do que fez por mim tem muito a ver com isso, e com uma pergunta simples me abriu os olhos. Tem vaga no sofá quando você vier pro Rio... Sempre.
Telemar soap opera finally comes to an end, at least this time... Thanks to one of those technician that honor the name... Good, me back online, lol... SURE enough I used the chance of being in Sampa to see my < b>druidaagain... That's a mess that it was so fast... But the Kindly Ones know what they do; life choices, he made his and I made mine. My notes of trip gave four pages, plus the notes of DDW... I gave up to post it here, it's too much even for me! They were three intense days, lived with passion and very productive, and that finished as quickly as they started... And that were also a bridge between what it was and what is coming. I came back on the office friday to discover that they had found other designer to be at my place, leaving me free to fly away and start at my new job. On the matters of heart, also, I used the trip to put my head in place and remember WHO I am. A person who doesn't have the slightest idea of how important he was to make me see this, with a simple question opened my eyes. There's a place in my couch anytime you want to come to Rio... Always.
CLARO que aproveitei a oportunidade em Sampa pra matar um pouco a saudade do meu druida... Pena que ele estava tão sem tempo... Mas as Gentis sabem o que fazem, escolhas de vida, ele fez as dele e eu fiz as minhas.
Minhas notas de viagem deram quatro páginas, fora o material de anotação da DDW... Desisti de postar aqui, é prolixidade demais até pra mim! Foram três dias intensos, vividos com paixão e muito produtivos, e que acabaram tão rapidamente como começaram... E que foram também uma ponte para o que estava por vir. Voltei para a empresa na sexta para descobrir que haviam encontrado outro designer para ficar no meu lugar, me deixando livre para voar e começar no meu novo job. No quesito coração, também, aproveitei a viagem para botar a cabeça no lugar e me lembrar de QUEM eu sou. Uma pessoa que não tem a menor idéia do que fez por mim tem muito a ver com isso, e com uma pergunta simples me abriu os olhos. Tem vaga no sofá quando você vier pro Rio... Sempre.
Telemar soap opera finally comes to an end, at least this time... Thanks to one of those technician that honor the name... Good, me back online, lol... SURE enough I used the chance of being in Sampa to see my < b>druidaagain... That's a mess that it was so fast... But the Kindly Ones know what they do; life choices, he made his and I made mine. My notes of trip gave four pages, plus the notes of DDW... I gave up to post it here, it's too much even for me! They were three intense days, lived with passion and very productive, and that finished as quickly as they started... And that were also a bridge between what it was and what is coming. I came back on the office friday to discover that they had found other designer to be at my place, leaving me free to fly away and start at my new job. On the matters of heart, also, I used the trip to put my head in place and remember WHO I am. A person who doesn't have the slightest idea of how important he was to make me see this, with a simple question opened my eyes. There's a place in my couch anytime you want to come to Rio... Always.
Volto de São Paulo louca de vontade de postar as novidades... E dou de cara com um computador pedindo "me formate" e uma linha de telefone q simplesmente NÃO funciona. Aliás, enchi o saco de ouvir a Telemar me dizer q o problema deve ser nas minhas extensões... eu NÃO TENHO! Além do telefone da sala eu só tenho o modem. Incrível a capacidade q eles têm de subestimar a inteligência do usuário e de tentar arranjar qualquer desculpa pra jogar a culpa da incompetência deles nas minhas costas. Procon e Anatel neles! O foda é q eles fazem essas graças porque têm o monopólio das linhas fixas, ou seja, eles tão cagando se o consumidor reclamar...
Tá, tive de reformatar e reinstalar a porra toda no meu micro 2 vezes por causa de um pau no registro do Ruindows. Você também ficaria de mau humor!
Tá, tive de reformatar e reinstalar a porra toda no meu micro 2 vezes por causa de um pau no registro do Ruindows. Você também ficaria de mau humor!
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