quinta-feira, 29 de novembro de 2012

Canção da certeza!


Continua a conduzir...


Continua a conduzir. Quero sentir-me afastar desta cidade. Quero observar todas as suas luzes esbaterem através desta janela fustigada pela força da chuva, e desvanecerem-se no âmago desta fria noite de outono. Dá-me a tua mão, quero sentir-te determinada. Para trás, só ficam as memórias do mais intenso e prolongado preliminar emocional das nossas vidas. Em frente, esperam-nos as calmas e apaziguantes planícies da mais bela certeza que retirara a mordaça dos nossos corações. Quero estender o meu olhar pela estrada fora e sentir os faróis desbravarem o negrume da noite. Quero ouvir todo este silêncio reconfortante que nos anestesia e embebeda. Quero ver os teus lábios romperem ao longo do rosto e esculpirem o mais belo sorriso que o homem conhecera. Quero ouvir o teu mais sincero suspiro num disparo de fragância emotiva. Somos os únicos herdeiros da eternidade. Aqueles de quem o esquecimento se lembra ininterruptamente. Somos a personificação conjunta da ataraxia e os eternos amamentados pela paixão. Somos abençoados. Somos os filhos desta infinita estrada que vagueia pela vida e se estende para fora dela. Continua a conduzir…

~ a neverending psychedelic trip ~


sábado, 24 de novembro de 2012

No meu coração nascem Cactos!

We'll drive. Keep driving. Head out to the middle of nowhere, take that road as far as it takes us. You've never been west of Philly, have ya? This is a beautiful country, Monty, it's beautiful out there, like a different world. Mountains, hills, cows, farms, and white churches. I drove out west with your mother one time, before you was born. Brooklyn to the Pacific in three days. Just enough money for gas, sandwiches, and coffee, but we made it. Every man, woman, and child alive should see the desert one time before they die. Nothin' at all for miles around. Nothin' but sand and rocks and cactus and blue sky. Not a soul in sight. No sirens. No car alarms. Nobody honkin' atcha. No madmen cursin' or pissin' in the streets. You find the silence out there, you find the peace. You can find God. So we drive west, keep driving till we find a nice little town. These towns out in the desert, you know why they got there? People wanted to get way from somewhere else. The desert's for startin' over. Find a bar and I'll buy us drinks. I haven't had a drink in two years, but I'll have one with you, one last whisky with my boy. Take our time with it, taste the barley, let it linger. And then I'll go. I'll tell you don't ever write me, don't ever visit, I'll tell you I believe in God's kingdom and I'll see you and your mother again, but not in this lifetime. You'll get a job somewhere, a job that pays cash, a boss who doesn't ask questions, and you make a new life and you never come back. Monty, people like you, it's a gift, you'll make friends wherever you go. You're going to work hard, you're going to keep your head down and your mouth shut. You're going to make yourself a new home out there. You're a New Yorker, that won't ever change. You got New York in your bones. Spend the rest of your life out west but you're still a New Yorker. You'll miss your friends, you'll miss your dog, but you're strong. You got your mother's backbone in you, you're strong like she was. You find the right people, and you get yourself papers, a driver's license. You forget your old life, you can't come back, you can't call, you can't write. You never look back. You make a new life for yourself and you live it, you hear me? You live your live the way it should have been. But maybe, this is dangerous, but maybe after a few years you send word to Naturelle. You get yourself a new family and you raise them right, you hear me? Give them a good life, Monty. Give them what they need. You have a son, maybe you name him James, it's a good strong name, and maybe one day years from now years after I'm dead and gone reunited with your dear ma, you gather your whole family around and tell them the truth, who you are, where you come from, you tell them the whole story. Then you ask them if they know how lucky there are to be there. It all came so close to never happening. This life came so close to never happening.

25th Hour (2002)

terça-feira, 13 de novembro de 2012

You know you're damn right!


Pureza


E a viagem chegou ao fim...

"So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day. Will you do something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40 years from now? What's it look like? If it's with him, go. Go! I lost you once, I think I can do it again. If I thought that's what you really wanted. But don't you take the easy way out."


 The Notebook


quinta-feira, 8 de novembro de 2012

Ela está a tentar...

Abri as persianas e senti o sol aquecer as minhas pálpebras. O céu está tão claro quanto a minha alma. São poucas as nuvens que o habitam e muitos os pássaros que o cruzam de forma harmoniosa. Hoje o sol brilha neste planeta composto por dois pólos (o “Sim” e o “Não”). Tem sido tão fácil viver aqui, tão simples e agradável. Mas por vezes, existem seres de outros planetas que me visitam. Contam histórias sobre os seus planetas tão diferentes deste. Pertencem ao “Talvez Sim” e ao “Talvez Não” e são estas duas medidas que os governam. Falaram-me, também, da existência de satélites naturais em órbita desses planetas. Baptizaram cada um deles com nomes como “Não sei lidar com isto”, “estou desesperada” e “estou indecisa”. Desde então que tenho traficado ideias a estes seres. Ideias norteadas pela sinceridade emocional, pela ausência da hesitação e pela auscultação das mais sinceras palpitações que o coração lhes confessa. Estranham toda esta doutrina de vida, mas continuam a visitar-me. Hoje ouvi rumores de que este planeta os faz feliz, e que equacionam mudar-se para cá. Hoje está um belo dia de certeza azul clara no planeta do “Sim” e do “Não”.