Pedem tanto a quem ama: pedem o amor. Ainda pedem a solidão e a loucura.

Dedicatória sangrenta.

pero si hablan, aunque sólo sea un murmullo, escucha sus palabras y piensa en ellas, piensa en su significado, piensa en lo que dicen y en lo que no dicen, intenta comprender qué es lo que en realidad quieren decir

"-Como dicen los gángsters, no es nada personal, Max. Por supuesto, en esa aseveración hay algo de verdad y algo de mentira. Siempre es algo personal. Hemos llegado indemnes a través de un túnel del tiempo porque es algo personal. Te he elegido a ti porque es algo personal. Por descontado, nunca antes te había visto. Personalmente nunca hiciste nada contra mí. Esto te lo digo para tu tranquilidad espiritual. Nunca me violaste. Nunca violaste a nadie que yo conociera. Puede incluso que nunca hayas violado a nadie. No es algo personal. Tal vez yo esté enferma. Tal vez todo es producto de una pesadilla que no soñamos ni tú ni yo, aunque te duela, aunque el dolor sea real y personal. Sospecho, sin embargo, que el fin no será personal. El fin, la extinción, el gesto con el que todo esto se acaba irremediablemente."  

Ideia do Dia: Las mujeres son putas asesinas, Max. Ou isso, ou o amor é fodido.

la gloria y la felicidad, los deseos saciados y la victoria, esas cosas que sólo existen en el reino del futuro

"Tu gesto esconde una dosis insospechada de ternura y de timidez. Pero tus ojos no son todavía lo suficientemente tiernos ni tímidos. Te gusta mi casa. Te gustan mis cuadros. Me preguntas por las figuras que en ellos aparecen. El príncipe y la princesa, te contesto. Parecen los Reyes Católicos, dices. Sí, en alguna ocasión a mí también se me ha ocurrido pensarlo, unos Reyes Católicos en los límites del reino, unos Reyes Católicos que se espían en un perpetuo sobresalto, en un perpetuo hieratismo, pero para mí, para la que yo soy al menos durante quince horas diarias, son un príncipe y una princesa, los novios que atraviesan los años y que son heridos, asaeteados, los que pierden los caballos durante la cacería e incluso los que nunca han tenido caballos y huyen a pie, sostenidos por sus ojos, por una voluntad imbécil que algunos llaman bondad y otros natural buen talante, como si la naturaleza pudiera ser adjetivada, buena o mala, salvaje o doméstica, la naturaleza es la naturaleza, Max, desengáñate, y estará siempre ahí, como un misterio irremediable, y no me refiero a los bosques que se queman sino a las neuronas que se queman y al lado izquierdo o al lado derecho del cerebro que se quema en un incendio de siglos y siglos."

"Nos acercamos, tú y yo, desde los extremos del túnel, y aunque lo único que vemos son nuestras siluetas seguimos caminando resueltamente hacia nuestro encuentro. En la mitad del túnel por fin podrán nuestros brazos entrelazarse, y aunque allí la oscuridad es tan grande que no podremos contemplar nuestros rostros, sé que avanzaremos sin temor y que nos tocaremos la cara (tú lo primero que me tocarás será el culo, pero eso también es parte de tu deseo de conocer mi rostro), palparemos nuestros ojos y pronunciaremos acaso una o dos palabras de reconocimiento. Entonces me daré cuenta (entonces podría darme cuenta) de que no sabes nada de pintura, pero sí de soledad, que es casi lo mismo. Algún día nos encontraremos en el medio de ese túnel, Max" 

Mantén los ojos abiertos o ciérralos, es igual, piensa en algo bonito o no pienses en nada

"Imagina por un instante que yo soy una princesa que espera. Una princesa impaciente. Una noche te veo, te veo porque de alguna manera te he buscado (no a ti sino al príncipe que también tú eres, y lo que representa el príncipe)." (...)

"Te busco con paciencia, aunque siento al mismo tiempo la inquietud de la princesa que contempla el marco vacío donde debiera refulgir la sonrisa del príncipe. Tus amigos son un problema elevado al cubo: son una tentación. Los veo, soy vista por ellos, soy deseada, sé que me bajarían los pantalones sin pensárselo dos veces, algunos merecen sin duda mi compañía al menos tanto como tú, pero en el último instante siempre te soy fiel. Por fin, apareces rodeado de bailarines de conga, entonando himnos cuyas letras son premonitorias de nuestro encuentro, con el rostro grave, imbuido de una importancia que sólo tú sabes sopesar, ver en su exacta dimensión; eres alto, bastante más alto que yo, y tienes los brazos largos exactamente tal como me los imaginé después de verte en la tele, y cuando te sonrío, cuando te digo hola, Max, no sabes qué decir, al principio no sabes qué decir, sólo reírte, un poco menos estentóreamente que tus camaradas, pero sólo te ríes, príncipe de la máquina del tiempo, te ríes pero ya no caminas."

a vida de fio a pavio

A principio é simples, anda-se sozinho
passa-se nas ruas bem devagarinho
está-se bem no silêncio e no borborinho.


Depois vem cansaços e o corpo fraqueja
olha-se para dentro e já pouco sobeja
pede-se um descanso por curto que seja
apagam-se as dúvidas num mar de cerveja
e vem-nos à memória uma frase batida [...].




Questão do dia: bebe-se a coragem até dum copo vazio ?

Pontuação: um caso de interrogações e reticências

por causa de uma vírgula colocou-se ponto final no romance

Ideia do Dia: o essencial e o acessório.

McLove or else

Despite our attempts to trivialize it, commercialize it, and strip-mine it of meaning, love is still dangerously, incandescently meaningful. While we may try to reduce it to a mass-made quasi-luxury we purchase on credit once a year, obediently, in the form of chocolates, flowers, and dinners, it remains vital. While we may try to turn it into an option — one more choice to be plucked off the shelf, depending on whether you prefer the red label or the blue — it remains necessary. And it must be evoked and created, nurtured and renewed, tilled and cultivated — because without it, life is little more than sleepwalking.

Perhaps our celebrations of "love" are so often tinged with a quiet desperation because what we're really pursuing is a caricature of love. And perhaps by endlessly redrawing that caricature, we ourselves are lessened, little by little; as if we feel we don't fully belong in the human world, but can't quite understand why.

None of us belong here. But we are here. And there's not enough time. Cut the bullshit.

http://blogs.hbr.org/haque/2012/02/why_love_matters_more_and_less.html

Ideia do Dia: Love is a Verb

nada a acrescentar

Mon gentil, merveilleux, bien-aimé « jeunot du cru », vous m’avez encore fait pleurer, mais de douces larmes, douces comme tout ce qui vient de vous. Je venais de m’installer dans l’avion, j’avais ouvert votre livre, ça m’a donné envie de voir votre écriture, j’ai regardé la première page en regrettant de ne pas vous avoir demandé d’y écrire quelque chose, et voilà qu’elles étaient là, vos tendres, aimantes et belles lignes. J’ai appuyé mon front contre le hublot et j’ai pleuré au dessus de la mer bleue, mais de douces larmes, les larmes de l’amour, de notre amour. Je vous aime. Le chauffeur de taxi m’a demandé « c’est votre mari ?-Non.- Ah, un ami ? », et il a ajouté d’une voix pleine de sympathie : « Comme il avait l’air triste ! » Je n’ai pas pu m’empêcher de dire : « Nous sommes très tristes de nous quitter, Paris est si loin ! » Alors il s’est mis à parler aimablement de Paris. C’est mieux que vous ne soyez pas venu avec moi, à Madison Avenue et à La Guardia il y avait de vagues connaissances, avec les pires voix françaises et les pires visages français, et dieu sait qu’ils peuvent être moches. J’étais étourdie, pas même capable de pleurer à ce moment –là, juste étourdie. Puis l’avion a décollé. J’aime les avions, lorsqu’on a atteint un certain degré d’émotion c’est le seul mode de transport qui s’harmonise avec l’état du cœur, je trouve. L’avion, l’amour, le ciel, la tristesse et l’espoir formaient un tout. Je pensais à vous, me rappelais avec soin chaque détail, je lisais votre livre, que je préfère d’ailleurs à l’autre ; on nous a offert du whisky et un bon déjeuner : poulet à la crème, glace au chocolat. Vous auriez jubilé du paysage, des nuages, de la mer, de la côte, des forêts, des villages, on distinguait très bien la Terre et vous auriez souri de votre sourire chaleureux et enfantin. Au-dessus de Terre-Neuve le soir tombait déjà, alors qu’à New York il n’était que 15 h. L’île est fort belle, toute en pins sombres et en lacs mélancoliques avec çà et là une touche de neige, vous l’aimeriez aussi. Nous avons atterri et devons attendre ici deux heures. Où êtes-vous en ce moment précis ? Peut-être dans un autre avions. Quand vous regagnerez notre petit foyer, je serai là, cachée sous le lit et partout. Désormais je serai toujours avec vous, dans les rues tristes de Chicago, sous le métro aérien, dans la chambre solitaire, je serai avec vous comme une épouse aimante avec son mari bien-aimé. Nous n’aurons pas de réveil car ce n’était pas un rêve ; c’est une merveilleuse histoire réelle qui ne fait que commencer. Je vous sens avec moi, là où j’irai vous irez, non votre seul regard, vous tout entier. Je vous aime, il n’y a rien d’autre à ajouter. Vous me prenez dans vos bras, je me serre contre vous, je vous embrasse comme je vous embrassais.

Votre Simone

I am done with my graceless heart , so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat
Looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Well, what the hell ...


Note to self:  A chain is only as strong as its weakest link

It brings you luck whether you believe it or not

temos sorte aos maus amores
temos mãos do mesmo naipe
de perdedores


Ideia do Dia: querida, sê bem-vinda à masmorra. 

I carry the sun in a golden cup, The moon in a silver bag.

For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy. Kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?


W.B.Yeats


A frase do dia: A pity beyond all telling is hid in the heart of love

There's one thing that you might have missed

So come with me in bed
Because it's you and me, we're history
There ain't nothing left to say
When I will get you alone
Maybe we could find a room
Where we could see what we should do
Maybe you know it's true
Living with me is like keeping a fool

Adjectivo do dia: memorável.

the grooviest thing

All these years and no one heard.

Sugestão: Let's go and throw all the songs we know. 

off balance

A tua presença
Entra pelos sete buracos da minha cabeça
A tua presença
Pelos olhos, boca, narinas e orelhas
A tua presença
Paralisa meu momento em que tudo começa
A tua presença
Desintegra e atualiza a minha presença


Ideia do Dia: Another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.

― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

a tear and a smile

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

Khalil Gibran


Questão do Dia: what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?

Apesar de você

Amanhã há-de ser outro dia.

Ideia do Dia: Esse meu sofrimento Vou cobrar com juros. Juro.

why did you ?

sadness is a blessing

The shortest distance between two points is often unbearable.

“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.” 

― Charles Bukowski

Ideia do Dia: Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels

all kisses are metaphors

I love to see you naked over there
especially from the back.
I did not know until you walked away
you had the perfect ass.

"You can't measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange."

"Do I contradict myself ? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large -- I contain multitudes."
— Walt Whitman

 Questão do Dia: I don' know what hurts me more, is it the words of my enemies or the silence of my friends ?

It was late, late in the evening, The lovers they were gone; The clocks had ceased their chiming, And the deep river ran on.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total darkness sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

W.H auden 1957

Ideia do Dia:Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss.

the morning after

“That’s the thing with the young these days, isn’t it? They watch too many happy endings. Everything has to be wrapped up, with a smile and a tear and a wave. Everyone has learned, found love, seen the error of their ways, discovered the joys of monogamy, or fatherhood, or filial duty, or life itself. In my day, people got shot at the end of films, after learning only that life is hollow, dismal, brutish, and short.” 

― Nick Hornby

Translation: “Everyone knows how to talk, and no one knows what to say.”

mercy, or merci

I had to go crazy to love you

Had to let everything fall
Had to be people I hated
Had to be no one at all

Tired of choosing desire
I've been saved by a blessed fatigue
The gates of commitment unwired
And nobody trying to leave
Ideia do dia: to kiss and stop writing everything down

I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.

SAMUEL BECKETT, The Unnamable

Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been"

Cheguei em casa
Toda descabelada
Completamente arrependida
Do que aconteceu
Tomei cachaça
E fumei como
Maria fumaça
Completamente arrependida
Do que aconteceu
Não teve a menor graça
Tudo isso eu sei que passa
Mas não passou...

Ideia do Dia: “Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”

por falar em saudade

A vida é uma grande ilusão
A hora do sim
É um descuido do não



Mensagem do dia: amores impossíveis.

Going home

I love to speak with Leonard
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit
But he does say what I tell him
Even though it isn’t welcome
He will never have the freedom
To refuse
He will speak these words of wisdom
Like a sage, a man of vision
Though he knows he’s really nothing
But the brief elaboration of a tube

Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore

He wants to write a love song
An anthem of forgiving
A manual for living with defeat
A cry above the suffering
A sacrifice recovering
But that isn’t what I want him to complete
I want to make him certain
That he doesn’t have a burden
That he doesn’t need a vision
That he only has permission
To do my instant bidding
That is to SAY what I have told him
To repeat

Leonard Cohen (2012)

Ideia do Dia: I'm living in a suite, alright , but I don't want to surrender

So I smile and try to mean it to make myself let go

Say goodbye to the world
You thought you lived in
Take a bow
Play the part
Of a lonely lonely heart
I try to live alone
But lonely is so lonely alone
So human as I am

Pensamento de final do dia: to give up my defences

shining your light my way

If I talk real slowly

If I hold your hand
If you look real closely my love, you might understand.
Here I go, I'll tell you, what you already know.

Ideia do Dia: Still too young to fail, too scared to sail away, but one of these days I'll grow old and I'll grow brave and I'll go

imaginary memories

There is only a limited evolutionary advantage in being able to reminisce about what happened to you, but there is a huge payoff in being able to use that information to work out what is going to happen next. Similar neural systems seem to underpin past-related and future-related thinking. Memory is endlessly creative, and at one level it functions just as imagination does. That's how I think we should value memory: as a means for endlessly rewriting the self. It's important not to push the analogy with storytelling too far, but it's a valuable one. (...)To emphasise its narrative nature is not to undermine memory's value. It is simply to be realistic about this everyday psychological miracle.

Ideia do Dia: It might be a fiction, but it's my fiction, and I treasure it.

tantas sensações contraditórias

Talvez houvesse a passagem
de uma estrela no teu rosto.
Era quase uma viagem:
foi apenas um desgosto.


Ideia do Dia: Não foi nada, não foi nada: podia ter sido (...).

Do Tempo ao Coração

 

O resto foi o que eu não quis:  perseguição, procura, enlace, desse retrato feito a giz, pra que não mais eu me encontrasse.

she's a real fake

She's a diva lady.

She's a hopeless case.

She needs extra makeup

For her extra face

She lives in a vacuum.

She has no real home.

Where did diva come from?

Where shall diva go?

Ideia do Dia: need to be somebody's somebody

See the way she walks, hear the way she talks

Here she comes, you better watch your step
She's going to break your heart in two, it's true
It's not hard to realize
Just look into her false colored eyes
She builds you up to just put you down


Everybody knows: before you start, you're already beat

Some you lose some you win

I won't die when you wave goodbye

I'm out of tears 

I can't hear I won't speak
Let it out let it in
All this pain from within


Ideia do Dia: I tried so hard to rearrange your mind. But after a while I realized you were disarranging mine.

pursuit of happiness

“The best way out is always through.”
― Robert Frost


Ideia do Dia: Forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those who think they talk sense

hey você aí ...

Já enchi a cara de cerveja mas você não pintou
Mergulhei no sena, dei bandeira
Mas você nem notou
Já subi a Penha de joelhos
Mas você não mudou
Já enchi um saco de conselhos
Mas você não sacou
Sobre a terra devastada, um sol sem calor
Luz no deserto que a boca de um santo calou
Anjos que roubam galáxias ao seu criador
Ana que toca guitarra no Circo Voador

Olhos de vaca no cio, Você não sacou?
Sobras de Sintra na tinta do retrovisor
Sexo que acorda Lisboas e tudo que eu sou
Highways deslocam e pulsam beleza e pavor
Era uma zona de mistério
entre o sublime e o terror
Era o fantasma de Picasso no buraco do metrô
Melting pot estou tão só sticky fingers
Whisky a go-go
Era casamento de Pessoa com a loucura de Rimbaud

Ideia do Dia: do que sobra faz verso

I just wanna hold you now

Look at me now
because I got to the point where I can't look back
And I got to the spot where I can't get enough
And I got to the place where it all makes sense
Look at me now
because I got what you want without looking back
And I found what you need I know what you thought
See I got to this stage now it all makes sense

Ideia do Dia: Stick with me now because i'm opening things I couldn't before and I feel like a ship sailling to shore

I'm a million different people from one day to the next

I 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

Ideia do Dia: It's a bittersweet symphony, this life 

 

Living is Easy with Eyes Closed

"I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls."

— Anaïs Nin

Ideia do Dia: All endings are also beginnings: «the end».

Tell me what you've seen. Was it a dream? Was I in it?

I've got to tell you my tale
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand

(verve)

Ideia do Dia: I come in on my own and  leave on my own

“I have to remind myself to breathe, almost to remind my heart to beat!”

“May she wake in torment!" he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there—not in heaven—not perished—where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer—I repeat it till my tongue stiffens— Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look
Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
The brave man with a sword"
— Oscar Wilde




Pensamento nocturno: “I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”

"I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles."

"What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one."
— Virginia Woolf

Ideia do Dia: kiss me, and you will see how important I am

plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

"Ainda que sendo tarde e em vão, perguntarei por que motivo tudo quanto eu quis de mais vivo tinha por cima escrito: 'Não! "

Note to self: Aprender com as primaveras a me deixar cortar para poder voltar sempre inteira.

cada segundo que contém nele mil bateres de asas

If you're going abroad I can't help you
If you're crossing the street I might be there
If you give it a minute, it's wrong
If you give it a minute, it's gone

Ideia do Dia: Tell me when you hear me falling, there's a possibility it wouldn't show

perhaps he knew, as I did not, that the Earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road

Denys: You've ruined it for me, you know.
Karen Blixen: Ruined what?
Denys: Being alone.

Ideia do Dia: You're not going to fall in love are you? Not with someone who's always leaving.

charisma

“Take the risk of thinking for yourself, much more happiness, truth, beauty, and wisdom will come to you that way.”

Ideia do Dia: an appreciation for the irony and the sense of the absurd ...

reality is not always probable, or likely

“I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart, I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.”
― Jorge Luis Borges

the case of understanding

“The secret story is the one we'll never know, although we're living it from day to day, thinking we're alive, thinking we've got it all under control and the stuff we overlook doesn't matter.”
― Roberto Bolaño

Pensamento do Dia :“Nothing happened today. And if anything did, I’d rather not talk about it, because I didn’t understand it.”

could be better, should be better

if we lose the time before us, the future will ignore us.

Ideia do Dia: we should use it, we could use it ...