ao que merece ser repetido 12:08

Kiki foi amante de Man Ray. Quando se conheceram, ela disse: “Conheci um americano que faz fotos incríveis. Vou posar para ele. Tem uma pronuncia que me encanta e tem um ar de mistério”. Man Ray dizia-lhe: "Kiki não me olhe dessa maneira. Faz-me sentir estranho!”

quero #4 22:37

it is going to be OK

If I am no longer curious then I must let myself go 08:44

I dreamed you wouldn’t let me sleep in your bed
In a phone call they told me the poem was over
I was choking and there was no one to wave to
Beneath me was the sea
A stranger came out of the the water
You stopped the car and took a picture
He was touching me and you pushed us
The valley was golden and you made it hush
Something I never thought you’d do
The houses were similar and we never lived there
People were nice and you disliked them for their love
Homer’s first word was rage, and you?
They drilled screws into my hips
Then I became an adult
The radio said winter was crossing the mountain
You had red hair and wanted us to lay
Your clothes were soft but I didn’t want to
The sheriff said you were born with a storm in your heart
Did you pour hot lava in the game console?
A mare gave birth across the meadow
I skipped a star
The sorrow of being locked out of divination
I drew you on the back of a notebook
The sea was dark and I wouldn’t go in
You sent pictures of long grass, the wind
1992 1993 1994 1995
In a phone call they told me you didn’t stop the car
Young rites make sweet the new order of the ages
Take a moment
You have some beautiful friends
There’s a beach shore somewhere inside you
My head on your chest I hear it crashing
My back slightly arched I showed my face to the sun
The crystal in the window fractured light over the blankets
I wanted a mountain in the city that only I knew about
Try to imagine a future touching skin
Dragging a claw through a cloud
We broke into the neighbors pool and populated it
An enormous wave soaked the lawn
Someone called your name back there
Life opened to you like a marble palace
You brought new lightbulbs, pagaentry
and couture, a lion’s roar
You came as a myth-weaver
The wind took the last leaves
Once I had a month with no dreams
It was like living in an aquarium with a blanket over it
Why kiss me if I won’t get better?
Summer dusk, one week later and you no longer love me
Won’t you forgive me the way I’ve already forgiven myself?
To track the snowfall over the mountain on horseback
Something you got for being attentive
You talked about the light from your childhood
You talked about being a girl
But I thought about something else
Magic isn’t real...magic isn’t real...magic isn’t real...
But I need more
Just to look through a telescope
To stand naked in a field
My whole life has been spent on dramatic displays of expression
I ran through the grass with a kite in my hand
When I lifted, it dragged
I will not will my anxiety into anticipation
You pulled the car over and began to cry
I dreamed I could show you my dreams like a movie
I am simply wading into the surf
If the sea breaks into sequins then I still believe
If I am no longer curious then I must let myself go

Girl, Ben Fama

lullaby #7 12:21

tenho andado cheia de surpresas matinais e esta não quebrou o padrão.

lullaby #6 10:54

obrigada, esta música é o melhor que me podia acontecer hoje!

lullaby #5 08:04

I've been trying to quantify
All of the wrong that one can pack into a lie
And I've been trying to put on a scale
Just how bad all of that wrong should make me feel

'Cos they told me once when I was young
That liars are as liars do
And if you do, it's off to Hell with you
No smiling, kid, I speak the truth
But I've a sneaking feeling they were liars too
So logically, then, we're all hypocrites
But does it make it better or make it worse to be aware of it?
 
(...)


And that every soul can always fit through Heaven's door
With the weight of things it never told anyone before.

Maybe True Stories, Lauren O'Connell

na tentativa de descrição da aurora cai ela e estilhaça-se, desfeita por nuvens carregadas de augúrios.

por estas estradas o mundo ainda dorme e é ele verde e cinza, feito de nuvens que se entrelaçam por povoações mais baixas. é agora sobre rodas que me sinto no topo do mundo e tenho a certeza de que nunca se havia visto semelhante amanhecer. faço parte dele e não tenho como o mostrar, condenando-me a esta memória "impartilhável". ó, pudesse e ofereceria esta aurora.

hmhm, que delícia 19:32

recebi dos The Fancy Party Dress (por ter ganho um "concurso") o single Grandfather em vinil e o EP Lost To This Land em CD. é agora o deleite domingueiro.

quero #3 17:27

este e outros globos de Wendy Gold em ImagineNations.

lullaby #4 17:05

on seeing the 100% perfect girl 14:47

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.

After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Haruki Murakami

não, mas às vezes 14:40

all my friends are dead

ao menos o que aí vem é colorido 12:12

Oliver Vernon

(ainda não decidi o que me traz ele à alma.)

Beyond a critical point within a finite space, freedom diminishes as numbers increase... the human question is not how many can possibly survive within the system, but what kind of existence is possible for those who do survive.

Frank Herbert

lullaby #3 19:27

photographie -- PHO-TO-GRA-PHIE 10:44

acordei com esta passagem na cabeça e decidi rever este filme da Agnès que vi, pela primeira vez, há precisamente um ano no Imagens do Real Imaginado. fica a primeira parte e, para os "menos" poliglotas, um bónus em forma de legendas em inglês.

a tristeza daqueles que pertencem a lugar nenhum 10:29

Vivia tudo num instante
a solidão, os rancores
as alegrias dos outros
o silêncio do outono 

excerto de Quatro tiros no coração, José Tolentino Mendonça

quero #2 10:20

duas novas séries de trabalhos do Ryan McGinley neste livro.

lullaby #2 11:44

cabeça em água 22:16

tem ratos, tem ratos, tem ratos 13:06

Mas os ratos abandonam o navio
e eles sabem, meu amor, com segurança sabem
que tudo está perdido,
que tudo está perdido, meu amor.
Ficaremos sozinhos na coberta inclinada
de mãos dadas e coração tranquilo, para
o necessário e inútil sacrifício, enquanto
os ratos abandonam o navio.

Recado Para a Amiga Distante, Daniel Filipe

quero #1 20:31

oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!

lullaby #1 11:58