Aqui há um Fim declarado.

C'est fini.

A todos, um obrigado. On s'amuse.

Interprete isto como quiser. Interprete como uma confissão, segredo, expiação, catarse — ou mesmo algo do gênero daquilo que você encontraria em sites como o PostSecret, One Sentence ou Group Hug — sob a minha assinatura.

The honest part is:

There's one reason, and one reason only, that this (whatever this may mean) will never exist again: shame.

Shame is the key.

Behind my pride, my stoicism, my blindness, my stubbornness lies a fear of a shame. Although you may say now that it was your choice and will to kill this (again whatever this may mean); if there's a chance of resurrection, it will be needed a reciprocitivity, that it will not be found on my behalf because of that reason. And that's my decision, my choice and my will. This is mine!

There's a premature killing of this allegedly future relationship. It will be stillborn, by my own mistake, I admit.

And when you ask then why this and I cannot be changed, please remember what you are reading now.

1

2

3

I am not capable of bearing the shame that will rest on me.

It will be on the eyes of everyone.

It will be in the disappointment of everyone who knows me.

It will be on the betrayl of my own words.

I will not give my friends the pleasure of seeing me swallowing my own words and bitting my own tongue (for the sake of an artistic license and a literal translation).

Is because of the things I'm doing now. The diseases I'm spreading about you all over this town. And, forgive my stupidity and honesty, I will continue to do what I'm doing until I get avenged.

And oh, is because of the embarrassement I felt when I was reading your words.

Old Habits Die Hard

But this one... gone quickly.

Será que arranjo um substituto? E a coisa está mais para qual lado: total falta de confiança, fim de relacionamento em frente a paranóia e motivos para o crime, sentimento profundo de posse?

Passado.

Remoto ou Recente?

Agua de Annique — Day After Yesterday

Today is the day after yesterday
And yesterday didn't go so well
My love came down and assured me
Sit down, I have something to tell

When I met you my eyes hurt
That is how beautiful you are
I don't suppose I could feel this way
If I'd still have you by my side
By my side

I did not anticipate your candour
Even though I didn't know you too well
They say one door closed is another door open
But this door is leading me straight to hell

When I met you my eyes hurt
That is how beautiful you are
I don't suppose I could feel this way
If I'd still have you by my side
By my side

I'm just broken up
I'm caving in
That is how tired I am
I don't suppose I could feel this way...

— Você não vale nada mesmo.

TO DO LIST

Four wishes:

1) Get really really drunk.

2) Passar muito mal e vomitar as tripas.

3) Dormir 16 horas seguidas (ou Thank God you're here Mister Frontal.)

4) Chorar até arranhar as córneas.

Gravitation

Programinha morde-e-assopra, hein?

Desert-Like-Town

É setembro em Brasilia.
A cidade é seca e as folhas fazem minha bicicleta derrapar. Folhas secas aos montes, organizada em montes, todos lugares.

A cidade deserta. So am I.

Há calor pela manhã, frio pela noite. Vou pra UnB montado na bicicleta, ouvindo música e é ainda seco. Sol queima forte, mas eu não tiro meu blazer, não tiro o boné com o gorro por cima (like de europeans are doing).

I miss my winter. I’m still living winter. I'm listening winter.
Alguns meses passaram e meu hibernato só começou há uma semana.

(on the surface simplicity, but the darkest pit in me is pagan poetry)

I’m freezing inside; I’m frying outside.
And everyday I look less like a human and more like a corpse.

Inverno cresce aqui dentro e cada dia mais eu penso: where is it?
Bliss... funny how that word was picked. Funny how ended our last conversation. And that word was mentioned there. I thought I had it. I found it, but how can I do in this town?


I was here, I was here first.


Eu lembro que ao desligar o telefone (depois de ter mudado de lugar todos os móveis do meu quarto) eu havia sentido o buraco de perder um grande amigo. Fiquei imaginando: So this is emptiness? He’ll be back to see how it changed?

Today, suddenly, I realized that void wasn’t there because a loss of a friend (friend?). Suddenly, I focused on myself.
I got distracted.
Now everything is so messed up that he is the least of my problems.

Some stuff should be here already. Things I thoutht I had conquered.

And instantly my grave grew much much bigger.


Pâle semptembre...
Deserto lá fora e eu usando minhas roupas de inverno.
I should be buried on they.

P.S.: I tried not but that behaviour really offended me. I haven’t notice how that affected me. I thought it got reflected, but it didn’t.

A Conversation.

The Famous one, the One who knows the Famous one and the One who doesn't know the Famous one (actually, he's the one who discovered that he was going to a show, and he'd meet the Famous one there, a few hours earlier; and (finally) he was the one who took the courage to say anything. Or he was just drunk....).

Inside the men's room:

—

Para E.M.

Everytime I looked around, I saw you,
I saw your face on every (thin, blue-eyed, red-coated, lip-pierced, short-dark-haired) boy in that place.
Less than a second later, I'd come into me and realize that it wasn't you.
'Cause you're still on another town, you're still not here, I'm still not there.

When?

And there's another man. He had fallen in love with you. And he hates me as much as I hate him.





Now, I've got to battle him (and I will). 'Cause I love you more than him, I'd say; and you...


And you... well, what would you do? Who'd you love? Who'd you care? Who'd you suck? who'd you fuck?






I saw you.
I saw you on everyone I looked.
Everyone that was there was you.

As I pretended when I was