Adão decide ir para Oeste

Ironicamente, ando a ler o The Grapes of Wrath. Será que inconscientemente estou a comparar o meu futuro ao da família Joad? Estou a preparar a minha ida para Oeste, isso é verdade, mas não sei até que ponto ler todas as dificuldades daquela gente é benéfico para a minha decisão de ir apanhar laranjas e uvas dos campos dourados do sonho americano. Ah, mas como sabe bem imaginar o próximo ano como uma viagem de uma dezena de horas. Até chegar às montanhas a Este e a praia brilhante a cinco minutos de onde eu vou apanhar a fruta.

"The Western land, nervous under the beginning change. The Western States, nervous as horses before a thunder storm." The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

Song of the moment

So impressed with all you do
Tried so hard to be like you
Flew too high and burnt the wing
Lost my faith in everything

Lick around divine debris
Taste the wealth of hate in me
Shedding skin succumb defeat
This machine is obsolete

Made the choice to go away
Drink the fountain of decay
Tear a hole exquisite red
Fuck the rest and stab it dead

Broken bruised forgotten sore
Too fucked up to care anymore
Poisoned to my rotten core
Too fucked up to care anymore

In the back off the side far away is a place where I hide where i
Stay tried to stay tried to ask I needed to all alone by myself where were you?
How could I ever think its funny how everything that swore it wouldnt change is different now just like you
Would always say we'll make it through then my head fell apart
And where were you? How could I ever think its funny how everything you swore would never change is different now
like you said you and me make it through
Didnt quite fall apart
Where the fuck where you?

Nine Inch Nails - Somewhat Damaged

da visão

E o horizonte expande-se como uma prostituta afasta as pernas.

o que eu já fiz

já levitei num supermercado e por cima de um sofá

já estive com alemães num supermercado e não os ajudei

já vi uma foca a morrer num mergulho

já andei de montanha-russa sem querer

já saltei de um arranha-céus, transformei-me em areia e entrei no sistema eléctrico de uma cidade

já estive no Japão e vi um titânico poste de betão ser balançado por um vizinho enfurecido com o outro

já comi a comida vegetariana de uma amiga minha

já estive em guerras brutais e de proporções épicas

já bati em dois miúdos que me queriam roubar a bicicleta

já entrei por uma porta que era um urinol

já fui para uma ponte que se inundou

já estive numa festa e perdi a vez de tirar a foto com o aniversariante

uncertainty excites me

ando a tentar guardar os corações do jogo que tenho andado a jogar.

ai, futuro, futuro. queria-te no outro lado do atlântico. e já estiveste mais longe de mim.

The Dialogue

"I just wish this thing would leave me alone!"

"It won't leave you alone so soon, just learn how to live with
it."

"I can't, I even feel it in my neck, for fuck's sake!"

"It's all in your head, dear"

"I feel like dying."

"It's your call. I would say that dying is the easiest way out."

"Sometimes I think it's the only one."

"Look at yourself and the others around you. There's the exit. Kill the
thing by opening the door and breaking the circle."

"How do I break the circle?"

"Concentrate on it, find the center, destroy it and erase it from your
body."

"But there are so many fears, so many grey clouds..."

"Look to the recent past."

"What for?"

"For living purposes."

"What do you mean?"

"Take a good look."

"Stop with the riddles!"

"These are no riddles, these are boulders that you have removed from
your path."

"Still the riddles...give me answers..."

"You have them in you, just make sure you're asking the right
questions."

"I'm fucked!"

"No, you're just suffering in vain. There's nothing wrong. The thing is
almost dead. Endure its presence for a bit longer. All of it will go
away."

"Promise?"

"I hate promises."

"Then what?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing."

A mid-summer's pic-nic

OF SAILS AND PIRATES

To Becky, an inspiration

We travel endlessly
And from heart to heart.

We meet those who might be coy of speech
but who carve themselves in our minds.

And though we’d like to stand by them,
We can’t shake the feeling that festers in us,

that we must keep going and sail from shore to shore.
The feeling that we always need something more.

And we hoist our sails with power,
For the wind dries the tears in our eyes.

And we know that what we don’t know
Is what keeps us trying and fighting.

A family on the dead man’s chest
And a bottle of rum full of friends.

We are pirates, corsairs on our way to
The greener lands on the other side.

With nothing to hide, nothing to regret, nothing to fear.
And in our hearts there is no blue but that of the sky above and the sea below.