I can live.
I know I can live.
I can change and make a new life.
I can change.
I’m better than I am now.
I’m not my flaws.
I make mistakes, and I know that’s normal.
But I will be more than them.
I will beat my errors.
I will awake.
I will awake.
I will awake.
And I’ll be better than I think I am.
I will.
P.H.
Oi Aurora
(Felipe Leite/Tiago Albuquerque)
——————————————
Oi Aurora
Pequei mais uma vez
O meu sangue quente diz que amanhã não sei… talvez
Oi Aurora
Aquele manto branco sobre mim me encolheu
Me despertou um canto
Me jogo outra vez
De novo somos três
Eu, você e o diabo dançamos outra vez
Oi Aurora
O que perdi por você
Não há nada neste mundo que me faça ter outra vez
Oi Aurora
Acordaste o que há sob esta superfície espelhada
Me jogo outra vez
De novo somos três
Eu, você e o diabo dançamos outra vez
Run away, but it don’t work
Say you can, but you know you’re worse
You hide this side from all the ones besides
Another morning call
There are you lying in your hall
You isolate yourself from all who loves
And I’m again with you
You call, you call again
Again I’ll be unfaithfully yours
Lie, but it won’t do
You know I’m stuck with you
The cuts don’t hurt now, they’re not real
Sleep, in your dreams
Night, long as day
Is where you hide the scars from far away
And I’m again with you
You call, you call again
Again I’ll be unfaithfully yours
P. H.
The smoking room
The pounding beat
The hollow faces beyond
Another shot
Be, free anxiety
Which character
Which character
Shall I be?
But you’re not here to see
You’re not here with me
When I feel bitter
Here comes the sun
The light warms up
And night dies
Regress to be alone with another lonely one
But you’re not here to see
You’re not here with me
You’re not here with me
You’re not here with me
To see me bitter
P. H.
Existem alguns dias… aqueles dias quando você está só em casa, ouvindo o lado B do álbum “The Genius of Ray Charles”, no qual você começa a pensar sobre seu presente momento. Aí você chega à conclusão: “pensando bem…. esses últimos meses foram todos uma grande mentira”.
Os últimos meses serviram para você perceber na verdade o quão você é vulnerável. O casulo no qual se trancou foi apenas superficial, apenas uma ilusão de ótica criada para tentar se proteger… mas convenhamos, várias atitudes suas demonstraram o quão estilhaçado e danificado você é.
Foram meses de fugas vazias, encontros vazios, ebriedade, toxicidade, bares esfumaçados, nasceres do sol bêbados, pensamentos auto-depreciativos, e por aí vai. De fato, algumas poucas pessoas que poderiam se importar com você foram magoadas no decorrer do último ano, e aí… esqueça, parabéns pra você imbecil.
Claro, algumas boas amizades vieram nesse tempo, mas você ainda se sente só… e provavelmente ainda vai… se sentirá só como aquele piano em Ré menor no fundo do lounge do hotel tocando “Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’”.
Você se fez assim… agora aceite as consequências… você sabe exatamente os passos que lhe tornaram isso, e por ironia do destino, você até almejou isso. Agora o tem…. aceite… é você.
E continue esquecendo as noites… elas não valem a lembrança mesmo.
P. H.
That smokin’ room. The pounding beat. Noisy guitars and bottles going empty.
Everyone there looking for a lie. Trying desperatly to get close to anyone. Seeking for an empty feeling as at least for one night it could do the trick.
Others gave up. Real pleasures are a myth. So they buy one.
It works, for a couple of hours.
It works, a handful of minutes.
It works for a moment.
And then it’s gone. Like everyone else.
Soon, the night will also be gone. The sun will rise, and the wicked world of laughing masks will fade.
Some always try to make it longer. Tranforming the day into an extension of the night. And at that point they cross a line that only the peers will ever understand.
Only the damned.
Only the lost.
Only the broken.
P. H.
Colision.
Every night the man in the dark cloak is there.
Watching over me. Waiting for my errors.
Expecting my impulsiveness. Counting on my mistakes.
Since I’m being so reckless, one day he’ll get what he wants.
Night after night, living a death of lies.
One night I’ll fall, maybe tomorrow, maybe now.
But ’til that night, I go on.
Go on with empty relations, empty meetings.
Empty lies and emptying bottles.
Disappearing.
Fading.
Vanishing.
Coliding.
P. H.
Some say it happened long ago
An irish boy lost his soul
He tried to find it in every bottle
But each night he became more hollow
Then one night in a forgotten bar
A creature flew from very far
An angel bright like northern light
Thought the boy was worth a try
“I can point the road you seek
But you’ll walk it with your own feet
And you might just have a chance
To regain your soul and leave this trance”
So the boy got up and said:
“I don’t think you understand
I don’t want a new soul
Just the one that left a hole”
So the angel sat and thought
Aided by a drink that he bought
Though he could not understand
He became more curious of this land
“So boy, this I’ll say
In your land I’d like to stay
In human flesh just like yours
To learn some more about your cause”
So the angel began to breath
And felt the pulse that lied beneath
His skin soon felt the cold
And now he also could get old
So it passed a year and a day
And the time became to turn away
From the human life he began to taste
Which he began a whole lot late
“Though I feel the lonely cold
I also feel the lovely warmth
And I must say your kind is blessed
´Cause there’s one pain that is the best”
“What do you mean?” said the boy
“How could pain be of joy?
How could you want a soul
If it’s so hard to make it whole?”
“So my boy, this I’ll say
You don’t have to look far away
Search deep inside your thoughts
And the memories you forgot”
“The ones that loved and went away
Are the ones that always stay
They leave a scar and mark your heart
In a way that’ll never part”
“What composes you, can’t you see
Are these experiences that could be
Both filled with pain and love
Unexisting in the world above”
“I envy that I’ll never be
Fragmented like how you flee
For that sensation gives the urge
To an evergoing human search”
“Now I leave to Eden land
With joy once felt in my hand
And carry the love I once felt
And urge the pain that can’t be held”
As the angel flew away
The boy began another day
Through a drink a thought he had:
“Love and pain are not all that bad”
Back.
I felt my old world again. The good things. The bad things.
Felt new sensations. Met new people. Laughed with them. Had fun with them. Felt a bit more full.
Saw old memories. Hugged them, kissed them. And now miss them all.
But back. To feel again. Feel carress. Feel lonelyness. Feel loved. Feel wanted. Glad to know that I feel like that in both places. I belong everywhere, nowhere. Just in a corner of the world. In it’s fulfillness.
But still. What I want? Hard to say…
I will hurt. I will love. I will live.
I’m back.
A frase do título de hoje não é minha. Vem de uma linda música chamada “Elephant Gun”, do Beirut. Eis a música:
No entanto, ela expressa alguns seres humanos muito bem. Gradativamente nos escondemos. Vamos deixando porções cada vez maiores em locais obscuros, em frações nossas no qual não permitimos acesso a ninguém. O que resta a mim, é o lento martírio. Sempre tento fugir disso com explosões de egoísmo, mas no fim reetorno ao mesmo padrão. Elego alguém a qual farei tudo para manter bem, mesmo que isso me corroa. O padrão também acaba se aplicando a pessoas mais ligadas ao meu dia-a-dia. O “não” nunca vem. Minhas necessidades sempre ficam em segundo plano. Mas sei que essa é minha sina. Uma lenta destruição pessoal em prol de fazer algumas pessoas felizes.
Darei resultados.
Serei ouvidos.
Ocultarei sentimentos.
E quando mais precisar de alguém, irei fugir como sei muito bem.
Silêncio… estou aqui… sempre.
Até que um dia, não serei mais necessário. Sobrará apenas a auto-destruição sem sentido. E isso é “Death in Vegas”, uma história que será contada em breve. Aguarde futuros posts.
P. H.
