TRAINSPOTTING

42 to sunrise.
I’ve just realized.
I’ve just counted.
That’s all there is to do.
Count.
And all of a sudden I’ve just realized,
I am not the only one I can count with.
Not anymore.
Not ever.
40, that’s the number.
Small, decreasing number.
But only now I started writing.
That’s fine.
Not enough to close my eyes.
That’s fine.
I don’t want them to be shut.
I want them open wide.
Between the 4 and the 0 are three.
We are tree.
I never felt so much like myself.
Insomniac.
Writing about numbers.
Dreaming and writing and awake.
Eager for something indefinable.
A feeling.
Waiting.
Counting minutes.
Rushing.
Speeding up the pace for a bit.
Thinking of each step.
Anxiety, the word to be beaten.
To be assimilated.
Stimulated.
Proved and tasted.
The wait has always proven to be fair.
The fair way to any raise.
Exercise.
Body.
Mind.
I cannot speed up life.
But I can run.
I cannot see much forward in the dark.
But I can write.
The projection is enough.
Shakes the guts.
The body feels it.
It needs it.
The idea already fulfills it.
It’s physical, but still.
It's addictive, I predict.

Nunca te vi, sempre te amei.

Run.
Rise.
Fun.
Life.

No need to choose.

[OH MY]

I’m hurt
But you never touched me
You never felt me with your hands
Cause you never hit me

[Oh my] Hope is a hopeless feeling

I’m dirt
But you never smelt me
You never inhaled me with your nose
Cause you never breathe me

[Oh my] Hope is a hopeless feeling

I suck
But you never licked me
You never felt me with your lips
Cause you never kiss me

[Oh my] Hope is a hopeless feeling

I’m blushed
But you never ashamed me
You never stalked me with your eyes
Cause you never meet me

[Oh my] Hope is a hopeless feeling

I’m dumb
But you never dared me
You never held me with your ears
Cause you never answer me

Point all of your senses towards myself, I insist
I insist there’s got to be a tomorrow when your senses will fall

[Oh my] Hope makes no sense to me

METAFÍSICA

Pro tempo, sem temperamento.
O espaço não explica a ciência.
Paciência é um bom argumento,
Ou espaço que ganha no tempo?

Pro espaço, tem refinamento.
Constrói com tempo e cadência.
Não consigo tudo que tento,
Ou não quero o que lamento?

Com pouco tempo, o espaço não vem.
Com pouco espaço, difícil ser lento.
O espaço, em segundos, é alguém.

Uma hora infinita se passa em um vento.
Um quarto de hora nem sempre se tem.
Um quarto pequeno é um momento.

O tempo. O espaço.
Meu mundo tem pouco espaço.
O espaço. O tempo.
Meu mundo passou do tempo.

THE TRUTH

It is always small, because it is supposed to be simple.
Simplicity is small, even when it’s dark.
So truth is small, and many times black.
But sometimes it is orange.
Simple like that.

The truth is small, but needs . s p a c e . a n d . f r e s h . a i r.
It is always close, or far, but lying there.
May be closer than you think.
Even more because to be honest,
Sometimes you just cannot see it.

Speaking of it, shouldn’t IT be a HE or a SHE?
I think we use IT because it depends:
Whose truth are we talking about?
And that question, my friend,
Changes many things when is answered.

Unlike what you may have thought,
Believed and stood for...
The truth isn’t only one.
Just like god [god?]:
Perhaps it just doesn’t exist.

My truth is definitely small and orange now,
And not from this world.
But I’m positive they’re both mine,
The world and the truth.

And thus, my little big friend,
I can tell you with no fear:
It is small, it is orange, and it is here.
Even though your eyes cannot see it.

O QUÊ DA VIDA

Tem vezes que a gente está bem como está.

Que dia!
Que semana!
Que mês!
Que ano!
Que vida!

Tem vezes que a gente só quer que chegue amanhã.

Que dia longo.
Que semana infinita.
Que mês complicado.
Que ano pesado.
Que vida!

Tem vezes que o amanhã precisava ser ontem.

O sol apagou.
A feira acabou.
O natal chegou.
O inverno passou.
Que vida!

E tem vezes que a gente quer as duas coisas igual.
Ao mesmo tempo. É, tempo, você não tem sido fácil.

Que dia.
Que semana.
Que mês.
Que ano.
Que vida.

INSPIRAÇÃO

Essa é a primeira vez que posto nesse blog algo que não fui eu quem escreveu. Mas a genialidade quase insana do Lou Reed sempre foi das minhas preferidas, e o peso do Metallica sempre também foi - especialmente o peso dos próprios fantasmas do James, que se afogava e se escondia por sentir o peso do mundo em suas costas. O James é um cara com quem muito identifico pelo pouco que sei dele. Mas ao que tudo indica, encontrou ressurreição, e deve-se dizer parabéns, pois ele também continua um gênio, um gigante.

Então ao ouvir pela primeira vez o disco LULU, a joint venture entre Lou Reed e Metallica, respondi ao amigo que mandou o Link:

- DENSO!

E ele respondeu:

- PRA CARALHO!

Minutos depois postei o link no Facebook sob a frase "DENSO PRA CARALHO".

Dois dias depois, ainda não saí da cama e coloquei o disco pra tocar enquanto escrevia outra coisa. Faixa após faixa, fiquei arrepiado. Eu quero muito o pôster, quero muito o livro. Pra quem não sabe, toda a história se baseia em duas peças de um escritor expressionista alemão Frank Wedekind: Earth Spirit e Pandora's Box, que contam a história da vida e relacionamentos de uma jovem dançarina abusada, que foram reunidas sob o título de Lulu Plays. Desde sua publicação no início dos anos 1900, as peças inspiraram um filme mudo [Pandora's Box, 1929], uma ópera, e inúmeras outras iniciativas.

Originalmente, Lou havia escrito as letras e idealizado o cenário para uma produção teatral em Berlin, mas depois de se juntar à banda no Rock and Roll Hall of Fame em 2009, todos sabiam que precisavam fazer mais juntos. Em 2011 gravaram, e eu ouvi. E eu pirei, eu me inspirei.

O disco todo dá uma vontade louca de romper um hiato criativo em que me sinto imerso, e já me faz olhar para meu piano, meus violões e minhas guitarras de maneira diferente. Me faz olhar para o papel, a caneta e o lápis, o teclado, tudo de maneira diferente. Me faz olhar para a minha raiva, minha frustração e minhas realizações de maneira diferente. Me faz olhar para minhas leituras de maneira diferente. Me faz a cabeça girar afiada como um liquidificador sedento por tritirar e misturar tudo isso e o que virá em micro pedaços de uma nova massa e produzir.

Agora mesmo está tocando uma tensão de 8'01'' chamada Little Dog. Se você tiver curiosidade de ver e ouvir o que me inspirou a postar uma letra do Lou e não uma minha, e quem sabe entender do que estou falando, precisa entrar aqui.

Obrigado Lou, James, Lars, Kirk e Trujillo. Obrigado, Davi.

A minha preferida é FRUSTRATION:

Frustration
In my lexicon of hate
I see you with your portraiture
Does he love you?
Does he love you too?

The brush strokes
Kiss your breasts and toes
I cry icicles in my stein
The heartbeats flutter
With an abnormal rhythm

The pain shoots through my body
A sword between my thighs
I wish that I could kill you
But I too love your eyes

You're feeling less whore but you stimulate
The hatred smolders in your eyes
I'd drop to my knees in a second
To salivate in your thighs

But all I do is fall over
I don't have the strength I once had
In you and your prickless lover
And his easel in his eyes

I feel the pain creep up my leg
Blood runs from my nose
I puke my guts out at your feet
You're more man than I
To be dead to have no feeling
To be dry and spermless like a girl

I want so much to hurt you
I want so much to hurt you
I want so much to hurt you
Marry me
I want you as my wife

Spermless like a girl
More man than I
More man than I

Frustration
In my lexicon of hate
You're feeling less like a whore but you
Stimulate

All I do is fall over
I don't have the strength I once had
All I do is fall over
I don't have the strength I once had

I want you so much to hurt you
I want so much to hurt you
I want so much to hurt you
I want you as a wife

Frustration is my lexicon of hate
Frustration is my lexicon of hate
Fru... fru... frustration, my lexicon of hate

I cry icicles
Heartbeats flutter
Abnormal rhythm

I wish that I could kill you
But I too love your eyes
I want you as my wife
I want you as my wife
Spermless like a girl

Lucky in feeling
More man than I
Marry me, marry me, marry me
I want you as a wife
Spermless like a girl
Puking my guts at your feet
More man than I
Fru... fru... fru... frustration
Frustration

AIME A FRED

A sutileza da vergonha - os homens não se envergonham de pensar coisas sujas, mas ao imaginar que lhes são atribuídos esses pensamentos sujos.- Nietzsche

- Harassment
One's psychological pressure may turn other into a sad person.

- Vicious, violence and standars
The cause of some regrets is cyclical, and lying within it can only cause as much damage to other as it does its owner.

- Enclosure
The harder one rapes towards the core, the harder it'll get.

- Math on opposition
There is an inverse proportion between the strength used to achieve looseness and the looseness of the cuffs itself.

- Bounce x Health x Sanity
The pain you inflict to others is smaller than the one you do to yourself.

- Reflection
Philosophy comes from the ability of hypothetically placing yourself under someone else's point of view without the need of getting/being there.

- Dope seduction
The immediate answer and satisfaction a bad, known behavior provides, almost immediately turns back against yourself as a bad feeling.

- Abstinence x Sense
Perhaps the anguish and emptiness are the very things an addict will miss, not the euphoria.

- Mold, a lesson on adaptation
Our body and mind will learn to live through the worst if needed, but this is not necessarily good. It is important, almost mandatory to remain sensible every now and then.

- Pattern
Even the worst will be missed once you get used to it.

- Contradicted efforts
An attempt to hide instead of getting rid of something produces a growing agglomerate around the thing to avoid; with effect, it is the cancer of the soul, opposite of healing.

- Darwinism
Pain can only one out of two: 1] keep you alive; or 2] kill you. With no exception, its absence can only kill - even if it takes a while and the heart keeps beating.

- Friends
To be perfect, the pencil against the paper should auto-check spelling and grammar; on the other hand, the keyboard makes it much more difficult to achieve authenticity and fluidness. Both options should be noiseless and seamless, though.