mort mot juste

fevereiro 28, 2009

profile of man

me. i guess i take women one at a time. in my life that is. no ravishing passions, no disturbing phone calls or screaming late at night. not in front of others anyways. i appreciate peace, stepping on real grass sometimes, letting fresh air in and out, in and out. i don't allow people to take me into dangerous territory, emotionally that is. i don't tread on hostile ground, i couldn't allow myself to slip and fall pleasantly into the dirt. especially hostile dirt. i come from parents that seem long gone, and yet they're so alive i wake up at times breathing like it's their lungs and not mine. that doesn't mean i believe in some symbolic crap about them being alive inside me, they really are. alive in the world i mean, going insane somewhere, making sterilized cash to spend on nothing in particular, making up worlds staring at the walls looking like the lunatics they've turned into. i myself feel i could easily become one of them, either one or the other, i could never be like both no matter what you say about parents and DNA and whatever. but i won't, i have a system. i rely on that system as if it was the only resort and i never needed another. so with that system i am completely safe from becoming either one of my parents, from dealing with more than one woman at the same time, from losing my cool. i am a very calm human being, a monk you could say. i would laugh at you for saying it, and feel pleased just the same. me. i am so aware of how ridiculous i seem to myself it tickles. i am so sure this is going to work out if i just stick to the plan. no diversions. no setbacks. no figment of the imagination. just me and me, this mirror i have within, few objects and my clearest plan. my life is clean, spotless, sparkling. i'm pretty sure what i'm going to do next. and i can leave people out of it. people soil things. they fill ideas up with mud to the top. i can't take that. i can't take more than one idea at a time. so i can't really think of you right now. it would mess up my directions. i can show them to you in a few years when we meet again, they're all traced, mapped out. they'll make you so proud. then i'll have to put you back in the drawer. you dirty my plans. you are such a nice girl.

maria 2:38 AM 0 vociferando estavam

fevereiro 09, 2009

History repeats itself

I can't even begin to tell you how I don't have time for this to happen again. again means one more time. again means it has happened before. more than once.

love me
or leave me

last time I checked I was nobody's bitch.

maria 12:25 AM 1 vociferando estavam

fevereiro 04, 2009

rasura #3

maria 4:26 PM 0 vociferando estavam

fevereiro 03, 2009

about photographs

With time I have grown less and less fond of photographs. They freeze lost yesterdays, they represent laughter but they are not laughter, they represent a moment when the moment is gone. They remind you of how time touches everything and how it's impossible to recover even a bit of past. They create the false hope of a world in which you think you can live if you look at them long enough, the world of a moment past, silent, still. They create in you a vivid memory and at the same time a forgetting that comes from relying too much on that image you wanted to preserve. They remind you of pieces of time you wish you could tightly grasp, the same way an empty room or a familiar smell might. You cannot live inside a photograph. And that's the issue.

maria 2:24 PM 0 vociferando estavam

ao rés da fala