(no subject)
...Eu quero a sorte de um amor tranqüilo
Com sabor de fruta mordida
Nós na batida, no embalo da rede
Matando a sede na saliva
Ser teu pão, ser tua comida
Todo amor que houver nessa vida
E algum trocado pra dar garantia
E ser artista no nosso convívio
Pelo inferno e céu de todo dia
Pra poesia que a gente não vive
Transformar o tédio em melodia
Ser teu pão, ser tua comida
Todo amor que houver nessa vida
E algum veneno antimonotonia
E se eu achar a sua fonte escondida
Te alcance em cheio o mel e a ferida
E o corpo inteiro feito um furacão
Boca, nuca, mão, e a tua mente, não
Ser teu pão, ser tua comida
Todo amor que houver nessa vida
E algum remédio que me dê alegria ..."
Cazuza is genius
isnt it surreal to think that words can give u chills? if words - not even a 1/100000 of what our reality represents- is far from being enough for comparison, its beyond all my ability of logic and completely overwhelming, to imagine the consequences of having the actual sentiment being extracted - directly as it is - to our externality. chills? so much more.
.....metalinguagem is so impalpavel and yet so fascinating.
essa semana i had a breakingpoint. i went to the beach after a minha aula de portugues extra. and i stayed there for so long so long. interesting. it was hmm intense? in every way.scary.
brasil is home. not people, just brazil. brazil and family is home actually. family...confort. confort. people na barra is pure superficiallity. how can u live out of personal stories conversations where ur aim is to "impress" the most, with the stupidest lies and exagerations? how can i live with that everyday? can i? o pior eh que eu acho que sim. acho nao, eu sei que sim. healthy? what if i say that i dont think so?
people - persons actually - is relief though...
music
and yes yes, youre what i miss: what i miss all the time. and therefore, youre a huge active part - life.