Eu e você assim de perto dá. Pr'eu me perder de vez nas suas tintas. Me dê uma noite, um pouco da manhã... Só pr'eu sacar se os olhos mudam de cor.

Olhos vermelhos

Por ora, quis me tacar à eternidade e ao universo, apenas pelo prazer de conhecer a escuridão e ver nela, com meus próprios olhos vermelhos de tantos sentimentos, as cores que não se pode ver. Quis nadar literalmente nas trevas, quis arrancar minha roupa toda e ficar nu a sós e em paz. Meu querer foi se deteriorando na medida em que via meus olhos, aqueles vermelhos, se curarem da dor que os fiz passar. Dor, essa, que volta, sempre volta... Com ela, volta a vontade de me jogar. E flutuar nu na vazia e calada da escuridão (claro, com meus olhos inchados...)

Once my mom told me that cotton candy could be made of lullabies. I knew that that was impossible - how could I possibly eat something that my mother sang to me so I could sleep? I only understood what my mother wanted to say when I grew up: sweet lullabies feed our dreams.

Me privei de certo privilégio e vivi um ano muito bem sem ele. Agora, ele decide querer voltar e machucar o meu coraçãozinho que estava quietinho no canto dele...

Even though heroes are weakened by our fever, they'll carry on. Carry on because they are strong. Steady as a rock.

- Perhaps?

se ser forte é sempre esconder as proprias magoas (mesmo que se corroendo por dentro, mas nunca se deixando cair) pra sempre atentar as dos outros - por achá-las mais importantes -, entao eu sou a pessoa mais forte do mundo...

Dear heart,

I told you thousands of times 'no!'. Nevertheless, it seems that you want corrode me inside. You want to test me just for the pleasure to check how I can bear. I'm telling you: Not love. Never love!

- I'm weak, I can't.

Constantly reminding my heart that it sucks. Constantly reminding it to stop leaning to love. Never lean to it! I tasted its rejection. My god, it's bitter.

- Quite Queer, Indeed.

Gloria,

We lied, we can't go on. This is the time and this is the place to be alive.

I'm twisted up somewhere I cannot identify where exactly. For all I know, I have been feeling stupid, silly and distasteful. Need to find out as soon as possible what to do and not let it get stucked somewhere I know I won't be able to get out. Seeking for answers seems to be useless. I just have to go on living my life and finding the answers out of the blue. That's what I need.

We didn't know we couldn't go.
The circus song just carried on.
Out of the crowd, three men rush out
And scream and shout: "EVERYBODY STOP!"

Se você for,
Mas só se você for,
Vê se volta logo...
E não me deixa chorar baixo por ti, meu bem
Que eu quero te ver sempre,
Que eu quero te ver sempre...

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

But they only laughed again. "Needing to pee is perfectly normal!" they said. "You'll go on feeling that kind of thing for a long time yet. Like a person who has an arm cut off and keeps feeling it's there. We may have not a single drop of pee left in us, but we keep needing to pee."

- Mommy... When someone tells you that everything is gonna be alright, is it always true?
- Don't know, son. Why is that?
- I had a dream yesterday. A dream that an angel came to me. It was so beatiful, mommy.
- That's gorgeous, son. But what does it have to do with your first question?
- So, the angel came to me. I had wide white wings. It shinned blindly. He saw I was sad... Then, he told me that everything was gonna be alright.
- Why were you sad, son?
- Dunno, mommy. Do you know?
- How would I know?
- You are my mommy.
- That doeasn't mean anything.
- Mommy?
- Yes.
- Do angels exist?
- They exist if you want to.
- So I'm going to meet with the angel I met last night. I wanna talk to him better.
- Ok, son. Now it's time to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart.
- Thanks mom. Tomorrow I'll tell you more about the angel.
- OK.

Quite Queer

Everything fits in as if it were a puzzle. Quite queer, indeed.

is willing to cry for something really silly a sin?

Bitterness

I tried to take it off my mind. I tried to forget it using all the methods someone could have ever imagined. However, it is still inside me. Not a single drop of it is out. Had I known it would be this bitter, I wouldn't have tasted it. I wouldn't have tasted it at all. Sometimes, I just hate being here...

- So much more dismay in empty eyes.