Adorava estar in
Mas estou-me a sentir out
more fit for gills than lungs
“to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”
Go for TLI
The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
I've the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there's a moon over bourbon street
I've the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest
Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet
While there's a moon over bourbon street
Next to the blues
“Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. A few days ago I was right out; now I've got loads, too much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I can't seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn't be interested in my internal stock control problems though, so I simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the exit, just next to the blues.”
Getting away with it
Sub-question: is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day sins, is it better to burn out or fade away?
Coisas relativas
O tic-tac de um relógio.
O tempo de espera.
As escolhas.
Principalmente, o tempo: é muito relativo, e não é preciso entender a relatividade geral para a aplicarmos á nossa vida, e á nossa própria relatividade restrita.
Dizer palavras vãs é igualmente muito mais relativo. E as circunstâncias em que estas se podem dizer também. Felizmente a alma expressa-se quando e como se expressa, e não quando e como quer.
O tempo de espera.
As escolhas.
Principalmente, o tempo: é muito relativo, e não é preciso entender a relatividade geral para a aplicarmos á nossa vida, e á nossa própria relatividade restrita.
Dizer palavras vãs é igualmente muito mais relativo. E as circunstâncias em que estas se podem dizer também. Felizmente a alma expressa-se quando e como se expressa, e não quando e como quer.
Talvez um dia assim
Talvez um sonho a mais
Talvez pensar andar
Talvez pense acordar
Já te perdias
Foi mais um dia assim!
Se queres parar aí...
Para quê pisar sinais
Porquê largar razões
Talvez sopre o vento a favor
Talvez mande tudo para o ar...!!
Só mais um dia assim...
Toranja, truncado como bem me apetece...
Sympathy for the devil
“You are as abandoned and noisy as any character in a porn film, Laura. You are Ian's plaything, responding to his touch with shrieks of orgasmic delight. No woman in the history of the world is having better sex than the sex you are having with Ian... in my head.”