"WHATEVER YOU WANT..."

feeling basic, honest, and fourteen-year-old-like.

there's absolutely nothing more sincere than a curse word in a love declaration.

the best love-hurt-teen-song... therefore the most honest:

CREEP
(Radiohead)
When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here, ohhhh, ohhhh

She's running out the door
She's running out
She run run run run...
run... run...

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't belong here..."

what do you do when you comprehend perfectly? When you know you'd do the exact same thing... but still.... "you're so fucking special......."

all at once. vortex. static vortex.

When I read the well-known words "IN EUPHORIA I'M BRUISED"
I perfectly understood.... this:

Strange how much of people rubs in through skin. How what I feel has everything to do with what you feel. Like this: not the same feeling, but the form of feeling, the way of feeling what is given to us at the moment… this eye-sight, this blindness, or this roughness throughout it all: that rubs in. I sense that my view (my skin view) of this landscape is the one I pick up from your exposed veins. It’s the one that I feel through you: this confused, fragile roughness… This stumbling on hands, this strength clutch on to a sense that is more than anything: uncertain. This certainty in a mess of hair and feelings. This raw sex in the midst of dreams of tender embraces. This single moment after months of hours. This step into the ditch, when it’s actually filled, with skin and bones, with a grab and a moan. This excitement, this rush… this static rush. You are new, a mess of new in a strangled still old. And your mystery eyes rubbed some of the colors and blackness you see into mine.

"the rest is just a dream"

Sometimes I think my moment is this: the dream is over.
-and sometimes I will find a way to dream it right back in, I know-
and the end of dream does undrape a reality that could be... delightfull
BUT... I kind of always thought the dream being over meant it was all over.
I'm thinking, I'm knowing... it's not.
I always felt we were
"on the edge of a beautifull thing"
and said
"so come on, let's stay here for a while"
we were not on the edge, back then,
we were ON THIS BEAUTIFULL THING.
I am fluttering around it, around the sight and smell of it, around the image stuck in the back of my mind.
can't really figure out if it's gone to the past,
if it's metamorphed in you, if it's just a different angle now.
a different angle of a different beautifull thing.
or just a different angle of THIS beautifull thing.

it's not unpleasent. it's alway a delight.
it's not denial, it's always a different proposal.
I don't really know what it is
(and a hard as rock part of me thinks you shouldn't be okay with this distance!)

the thing is...
we could be great, amazing friends.
except that...
I'm in love with you.

("It may be hard... but it IS simple")

don't (you, oh dear nobody) take this the wrong way... it's all good, it's always good

HOUSE OF CARDS
(radiohead)

I don’t want to be your friend
I just want to be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts

Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine

Fall off the table and get swept under

Denial, denial

The infrastructure will collapse
From voltage spikes
Put your keys in the bowl
Kiss your husband goodnight

Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine

Fall off the table and get swept under

Denial, denial
Denial, denial
(Your ears should be burning)
Denial, denial
(Your ears should be burning)


I hate not being around. however it is, just stick around

life is crazy...

a música mais linda ja escrita para um travesti...
amor é amor. choro ouvindo isso.

Candy
(Iggy Pop)

It's a rainy afternoon
In 1990
The big city... geez its been 20 years-
Candy-you were so fine...

Beautiful beautiful
Girl from the north
You burned my heart
With a flickering torch
I had a dream that no one else could see
You gave me love for free

Candy, candy , candy I can't let you go
All my life you're haunting me
I love you so

Candy, candy , candy I can't let you go
Life is crazy
Candy baby

Yeah, well it hurt me real bad when you left
Hell...Im glad you got out
But... but I miss you!
I've had a hole in my heart
For so long
I've learned to fake it and
Just smile along (!)

Down on the street
Those men are all the same
I need a love
Not games
Not games

Candy, candy, candy I can't let you go
All my life youre haunting me
I loved you so
Candy, candy , candy I can't let you go
Life is crazy
I know baby
Candy baby


Candy, candy, candy I can't let you go
All my life youre haunting me
I loved you so

Candy candy candy
Life is crazy
Candy baby

Candy baby,
Candy, candy......



Preciso esquecer tudo o que você não sabe
arquear minhas vértebras em direções opostas
presentear minhas palavras ao mundo que é meu.
Meu mundo se angustia em si... um existencialismo disperso em tudo o que amo.

set aside

hate
love
hate
love

reappearences. It's like some sort of disease, I was never really able to fool myself anyway. So I'll try to keep this at bay. as you.
(and ignore the blast of one inch of skin touching)

but.... Sinatra kills me. just kills me. Or better: Cole Porter kills me, Sinatra's voice helps...

"I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear

Don't you know you fool, you never can win
Use your mentality, wake up to reality
But each time I do, just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin
'Cause I've got you under my skin "

look away, pass the time, march on and breathe a different city air, see you around, until next time...
just one last thing, before I leave:
you couldn't, I'm guessing.... "stand right here, look me straight in the eye and say
THAT IT'S OVER NOW ?
we pay our debt sometime......"

run. I don't mind.

"YOUR WEAK WILL WON'T HELP HER HEAL HER HEART"

Why would you want a sad girl's heart on your conscience?
why would you want a broken girl's heart on you?

I've got news for you: words can do as much damage as a fuck!


It's not about how many fingers you lay... It's about how much of you you needle into her.
consciously. consciously. willingly.
There's a reason for the expression "to fuck around with". And there's a reason for saying something three times to someone.
"don't fuck around with me"
"don't fuck around with me"
"don't fuck around with me"
It's not about being able to keep this under the rug,
It's about being real. It's about commiting to reality, and to the ones you so desperately carve around you.
It's about when the dream is over and you can't even look at what you broke.

Well, look at what you broke.

It's as simple as about being able to apologize.
It's about being sincere.
So you kept this one at bay. At what cost?
Did you not know the limits you crossed?

It's not about not making mistakes, it's about getting real.
This is real life, I'm not a virtual reality you delete.
You can keep pressing, it will not delete.
Calling me crazy won't change what you did.
pretending doesn't make it less real.
Hiding doesn't make it less real.

I'm not who you wished: I don't forget.
You can keep throwing things at me.
these bruises will not cause amnesia.
I know the darkest secret of your heart.
I know your inability to say goodbye.

words are permanent. So are acts. Show some respect,
don't hit and run.

there are no half-words for good-bye. good-bye is simple and short. don't edge me, just say good-bye.