Long ago...

There was someone...

Someone whose presence would fill a room, a smile so soft and warm as a child's very first blanket... Yet energetic, so vibrant... That face, that carefree smile will be engraved in my heart forever. The face of love at first sight. Any barriers I had were thrown to the floor. Crushed, defeated. It was ecstasy... It was three thousand times any sensation I had experienced. It was beyond love or passion. It was total vulnerability...

And I enjoyed it so...

Long conversations we had, about what we would do, where we would go. Plans, words, gestures... All of that I received, making me wonder if my heart would be able to beat stronger than it was beating then. All those signs, all those words... I had an idea, and put it to practice. I gave this person my heart. I had in engraved in gold and wrapped up in satin. I handed it on a silver plate and waited anxiously for the longed reply...

But it never came...

Nights and nights I waited alone at home. Time passed slowly back then, as it does for children. I would brush my teeth ten times, I would comb my hair a thousand others... But time stood still. Songs which would have minutes were played in a second and a second was too many time to delay such an answer. I started to realize that my heart was aching... Like a used band aid...

It had been thrown out...

I cried, yes. I cursed my fate, I ate fast food in front of the TV, feeling miserable, hateful and unwanted. I cursed myself too, for obeying that horrible cliché . I searched and searched, hoping to find that lost feeling somewhere... In anyone... But I didn't. My heart wasn't mine anymore. I resented every little moment of sweetness I had with that someone. Flaming thoughts of revenge crossed my mind, revenge against that mesmerizing beautiful figure of pure charm that I simply couldn't resist... I hated that figure so... I became bitter...

And I became so cold...

Years have passed, and my chest aches no more. It is plain, normal, a chest for living the common everyday life. I no longer wish on everlasting feelings, charming presences or vibrant smiles. I am now mundane.

My heart remains in that waste basket, longing for acceptance...

My heart is no more.


Long ago, there was an angel...

An angel which shined bright in the most unexpected location. I walked into that unknown place one day and there it was, just... Standing there. It was not the most glorious angel. It had not the perfect features, the golden halo nor the majestic wings. yet I know it was an angel. Just... That presence, looking at me. I didn't know what to make of such an apparition...

I was confused...

Did I walk to it or it to me? I do not remember. It was sudden and out of nowhere. Like that earthquake you know is bound to happen, but you never truly expect it... Until it happens. It was a sudden connection. So vivid, so strong and yet as simple as meeting any other person. It was a bond that, from that brief moment on, would be unbreakable. An unstoppable force of nature...

I wanted to believe that so...

The angel soon disappeared, leaving promises of return. I prayed as I had been told to. I followed every rule it gave me religiously, from dawn to dusk. Such strong, naive belief in my soul. Such childish innocence...Then time started slowing down. I kept following the rules blindly, ever tortured by the long tic tacs from that hellish clock. I hated that clock so much... It was only me and that clock...

And no angel to guide my naive soul...

I started having doubts, second thoughts. I searched every book, every tome... There was no such angel. Was I deceived? Was I used? Doubt turned to feint certainties. How would I know I was sure? Was I not faithful enough? Had I not followed correctly every rule? How could I have been abandoned so easily if it was all true? And how could I have been so easily deceived if it was all a lie?

I felt so lonely...

No more the angel visited me, although the memory still lives in me. The soul that used to believe it all is now a haunt, a simple ghost that wanders in my shadow, ever casting away the thought of that painful deceit.

Still, my foolish soul still searches for a last glimpse of that light somewhere far away...

My soul is gone.


Long ago, there was an angel... There was someone...

An angel which shined bright in the most unexpected location. I walked into that unknown place one day and there it was, just... Standing there. It was not the most glorious angel. It had not the perfect features, the golden halo nor the majestic wings. yet I know it was an angel. Just... That presence, looking at me. I didn't know what to make of such an apparition...Someone whose presence would fill a room, a smile so soft and warm as a child's very first blanket... Yet energetic, so vibrant... That face, that carefree smile will be engraved in my heart forever. The face of love at first sight. Any barriers I had were thrown to the floor. Crushed, defeated. It was ecstasy... It was three thousand times any sensation I had experienced. It was beyond love or passion. It was total vulnerability...


I was confused... And I enjoyed it so...

Did I walk to it or it to me? I do not remember. It was sudden and out of nowhere. Like that earthquake you know is bound to happen, but you never truly expect it... Until it happens. It was a sudden connection. So vivid, so strong and yet as simple as meeting any other person. It was a bond that, from that brief moment on, would be unbreakable. An unstoppable force of nature... Long conversations we had, about what we would do, where we would go. Plans, words, gestures... All of that I received, making me wonder if my heart would be able to beat stronger than it was beating then. All those signs, all those words... I had an idea, and put it to practice. I gave this person my heart. I had in engraved in gold and wrapped up in satin. I handed it on a silver plate and waited anxiously for the longed reply...

I wanted to believe that so... But it never came...

The angel soon disappeared, leaving promises of return. I prayed as I had been told to. I followed every rule it gave me religiously, from dawn to dusk. Such strong, naive belief in my soul. Such childish innocence...Then time started slowing down. I kept following the rules blindly, ever tortured by the long tic tacs from that hellish clock. I hated that clock so much... It was only me and that clock... Nights and nights I waited alone at home. Time passed slowly back then, as it does for children. I would brush my teeth ten times, I would comb my hair a thousand others... But time stood still. Songs which would have minutes were played in a second and a second was too many time to delay such an answer. I started to realize that my heart was aching... Like a used band aid...

And no angel to guide my naive soul... It had been thrown out...

I started having doubts, second thoughts. I searched every book, every tome... There was no such angel. Was I deceived? Was I used? Doubt turned to feint certainties. How would I know I was sure? Was I not faithful enough? Had I not followed correctly every rule? How could I have been abandoned so easily if it was all true? And how could I have been so easily deceived if it was all a lie? I cried, yes. I cursed my fate, I ate fast food in front of the TV, feeling miserable, hateful and unwanted. I cursed myself too, for obeying that horrible cliché . I searched and searched, hoping to find that lost feeling somewhere... In anyone... But I didn't. My heart wasn't mine anymore. I resented every little moment of sweetness I had with that someone. Flaming thoughts of revenge crossed my mind, revenge against that mesmerizing beautiful figure of pure charm that I simply couldn't resist... I hated that figure so... I became bitter...

I felt so lonely... And I became so cold...

No more the angel visited me, although the memory still lives in me. The soul that used to believe it all is now a haunt, a simple ghost that wanders in my shadow, ever casting away the thought of that painful deceit. Years have passed, and my chest aches no more. It is plain, normal, a chest for living the common everyday life. I no longer wish on everlasting feelings, charming presences or vibrant smiles. I am now mundane.

Still, my foolish soul still searches for a last glimpse of that light somewhere far away... My heart remains in that waste basket, longing for acceptance...

My soul is gone.
My heart is no more.

Ensaio sobre o ódio

Dilatam-se-me na fronte
Em forte venoso pulsar,
Uma vontade inquietante
Da minha raiva expulsar.

Três sorrateiras vezes o vi
E quieto e calado fiquei,
Mas à conta sagrada ardi,
Ao ver um bobo fazer-se rei!

É que abandonado o corpo
Por sua dita e santa alma,
Usar a face do defunto
Faz qualquer um perder a calma.

Mais que isso há-de ser,
Se me permitem a ousadia,
Nas barbas de todos o fazer
Sem sequer perguntar se podia.

Ora, quem de surpresa apanhado
Dá de caras com tal desrespeito,
Apetece apanhar o culpado
E à facada abrir-lhe o peito.

Ainda mais vontade mo dá
Quando, faça sol ou faça chuva,
à primeira pessoa que passe lá
Esforça uma cara de viúva.

O mais grave de tudo é mentir
Com toda a convicção que tem no corpo
A dizer, só para outros ferir
Que se está a sofrer é pouco.

Pois minha "amizade", só para ti
Toma um pedaço de bom conselho:
Se educadamente para ti alguma vez sorri
Foi porque sou mais que tu, meu fedelho!

Se te evito é porque me conheço e sei
Que se em ti tenho as vistas postas
A minha mais crua e primária vontade´
É de te provocar fracturas expostas.

Mais! Não me fico só por aqui
E digo-te do fundo do peito:
Se os dentes ainda não te fodi
É pelo mais puro e produndo respeito.

Se a tua ignóbil presença
Teve efeitos mais que nefastos,
Neste momento já nem importa
Pois de todos nós fizeste carrascos.

Mas ai de ti meu animal,
Que mais algum dia eu oiça,
Que te apoderas de quem dizias gostar
Como se fosse um bibelot de loiça.

Se do que partiu gostaste
Tanto como andaste a pregar
Então porta-te como gente
E deixa de o tentar mostrar.

Até lá és um asco,
Um parasita social,
Carvão para as criançinhas
Que se portam mal no natal.

Se pensas que és dono do caixão,
Há ainda coisas que tens que aprender:
Não é a TUA perda, é a de todos
Mesmo que não o queiras ver.

Portanto cesso aqui o meu discurso,
Pouco mais me resta dizer
E, sem comprometer a tua integridade,
Permite-me a tua pessoa descrever:

És mal formado, desalojado,
Amostra de pavão, pessoa sem noção,
Egoísta, um chupista,
Aproveitador, manipulador,
Destruidor, ditador,
Invejoso, venenoso,
Mentiroso, odioso,
Asqueroso, impiedoso,
Oleoso, mal-cheiroso,
Curriqueiro, cuscuvilheiro...

Espécie baixa de paneleiro!

Seis badaladas

Ecoam os passos silênciosos de quem não os quer ouvir. Seis badaladas perfumam o ar, inebriando os calados fantasmas que assomam ao meu ombro. Sinto-me cansado. Cansado e sonolento.
Anseio no meu tom mudo o verter de um novo dia, raiado da ténue névoa das incertezas... Mas não hoje abrirei os meus olhos a tais emanações. Contemplo areias que se movem em linhas ascendentes, revolvendo a ampulheta do tecido temporal até épocas não mais atingíveis. Contemplo-as infindávelmente...
Num repente, explosões se incineram no dual interior do meu ser. Anjos do perdão e da complacência se debatem com negros fantasmas da raiva e rancor, julgados apenas pelo desgastante zumbido do silêncio, que me entorpece o sentido do paladar do som. Esventro a sombra de mãos alheias e silhuetas de pensamentos desordeiros, oriundos de fossas que me perseguem por malditos corredores dourados, silhuetas essas quais ratos surgidos das próprias vísceras do mundo para, com a sua pestilenta presença, envenenar um paraíso de exuberante equilíbrio. Evocativas de tempestuosas núvens, secaram o solo do qual brotara vida e cobriram no seu áspero manto encarquilhado as estrelas que tantos caminhos haviam traçado.

Hoje penso silenciosamente, às seis badaladas, no passado... Enquanto exorciso fantasmas que a mim não me pertencem.

Desfile das Marquesas

Soem as trompetas!
Não espereis mais,
Vêm aí suas altezas reais...
O bando de velhas jarretas!

Que fineza, meus senhores!
(Pudera vê-las como disse...)
Um aglomerado de duquesas,
Uma enorme brejeirice!

Saias, saltos, silhuetas,
Em figuras mais que altivas,
Quais anciãs labregas
De terras nunca conhecidas.

Ao lado, pés descalços cirandam,
Mas não vos deixeis enganar!
São tão finos e senhorís
Quanto a vaca de saltos dá a mostrar.

E assim se mexe o povo,
Porcos feitos realeza.
Soubesse eu que a velhiçe
Trazia tanta puta de pobreza...

Boozin' you down

I've been drinking
And I can't tell you I didn't want to.
The fact is that while thinking
It's just something I like to do.

Scotch, then Vodka and a little Gin,
I let the glasses keep coming.
Can't tell you how much it's been,
I just saw the booze pouring.

All 'cause I don't think I love you enough,
I guess it's sad, but also true.
'Cause of the liquor my words are kinda' rough,
But I don't think I love you.

I know you'll miss the places we've been
They'll be a pain, a bitter memory and such.
The truth is that after a bottle of Gin
I really don't care all that much.

If you ever again need me
For a quick fuck or to tell me what you think,
You know exactly where I'll be,
Come on over and I'll even pay you a drink.

Cry, that's it cry,
Let that pain come out of your chest.
Hit me all you want, It's not a fair goodbye,
I'm numb anyway, I feel my head, not the rest.

So now please let go and excuse me,
I think I'm about to make a mess,
If you don't you might as well be...
...
Aw, look at that! I got vomit all over your dress!

Old thoughts of a betrayed soul

Once upon a time there was a boy. A betrayed, lonely boy who knew not what to think of the world. That boy tried to put his feelings in order, but he couldn't. Thus the boy wrote and wrote and eventually, as if unveiling true beauty, he reached, for a brief moment, truth and with that, the door to the unseen threads of the world opened up to him.
This is what he wrote. These are this boy's thoughts.

These are my thoughts...

Four years ago.

"What are "friends"? What is in fact "friendship"? People dwell in their closest one's problems... Friends sometimes seem like a strange source of amusement... For their own problems... There are lots of pre-made theories about friendship... All of them so "politicaly correct" that they end up being false. The experience I've had with "friends" tells me all of that... Betrayal is a feeling that destroys most friendships... But do people really owe such devotion to eachothers? In the end all facts point to a negative answer. Trust is never absolute. It is always shrouded by the trust in others... It doesnt matter how much you trust someone... That person will judge you based on someone else's judgement... Someone else THEY trust... For that... They are not immune to the cycle... Thus being themselves evaluated through these parameters. A group of friends is unified by a common interest. Once that interest is gone... So is the group. The ones who keep contact are those whose interests, diferent from the original one, are still the same. People are not forced to understand you as you are not forced to understand them. If you remain impartial to them, however, they will complain... No one's a saint, although everyone expects others to be. Those who acknowlege it, do all possible things not to be seen as saints. Humanity is the balance and it stabilizes every relationship beyond social interests. Friends gave me joys, and those same friends gave me bitter memories. Preferably I say I have no close friends. I say there is no one for who I would put my hands on fire. I am my best friend, the person whom I spent most time with and from who I can expect disapintments or happy moments at any time... Without bitter surprises. Since I'm writing this on a special date for someone, I'll leave someone a "happy birthday". Abiding to my own place in this person's own private world, the message I leave is... Expect as much enthusiasm from me as the one I got from you... No harsh intentions, of course. With this I conclude my thoughts for today. People dont suck, they just dont give a damn."

Alucinogénia

Pardais voam sobre a ponte
O vento é fresco, sopro boreal,
Pequeno momento divino
Que reforça o mundo real.

Abaixo, os carros passam
Destemida força humana
Que espirra foligem e fogo
Sobre esta estrada mundana.

Observo as árvores no passeio
em filamentos ordeiros e belos
Que em vagos e breves momentos
Se transformam em cogumelos!

Esfrego os olhos na minha dúvida
De visões ter estado a ter!
Sobre a ponte e ao vento fresco
Ilusões estão a aparecer!

Por baixo de mim surgem,
Na rua movimentada,
Núvens que em vez de fumo
São imaginação alada.

Os carros agora bixos
Andam sobre várias patas
Quais animais desconhecidos
Ou centopeias encarnadas.

Dos seus escapes saltam bolas,
Esferas, estrelas e outros mais,
Ao invés das tais emissões
Consideradas fatais.

Esfrego os olhos novamente
Tentando afastar minha loucura,
Chegando à triste conclusão:
Foi um sol de pouca dura.

As árvores feitas cogumelos
Dançavam ao longo da avenida,
Saltitando e correndo
De forma muito pouco contida.

Um tic-tac familiar
Atacou o meu ouvido cansado.
Os pardais que acima voavam
Eram um artifício mecanizado.

As pessoas que passavam,
Atarefadas como sempre,
Tinham enormes laços vermelhos
atados sobre o ventre.

Eram pequenas quais petizes
De corpo azul e gelatinoso,
Como um andante pudim
De um aroma delicioso.

O bater da chapa na estrada,
O rombar dos dançantes cogumelos,
As andantes sobremesas
E os alados relógios amarelos!

Num instante as núvens,
Do alto do rosa céu,
Despejaram rebuçados
Num açucarado véu.

A ponte que me suspendia,
Ao invés de frio cimento,
Era agora feita de flores
Que dançavam com o vento.

Os prédios altos e imponentes,
De aspecto ainda enorme,
Eram gigantes balões de hélio,
De estranha forma disforme.

Sem aviso passou por mim
Um bando de seres apressados!
Pensando eu que eram pombas,
Eram no fim sapos alados.

Deixei-me invadir por este mundo,
Já que não podia fazer nada.
Deslocando-me até casa
Acabei no meio da parada.

Dois garfos me acompanharam,
Seguidos de um computador.
Atrás vinham vinte cigarros
E um carapau pescador.

Após chegar a casa,
Melhor dizendo, ao meu balão,
Limpei o suor da cara
E subi na bola de sabão.

Chegado ao meu fiel encosto,
Ainda com a mente feita serva,
Deitei-me e pensei com firmeza:
...
Nunca mais eu fumo erva!