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21 de Julho de 2014

Time. hours. minutes. seconds. days. weeks. months. years. centuries... people. stop. stop with the numbers because they are just messing with your head. 

Memories are not based on time, are not measured by the day they happen. 
When you are older and you look back, you remember the day you met them. You remember the afternoon you spent singing. You remember to have danced all night long. You remember the people you were with and the feelings you got then. You remember looking at his lips and wondering how they would taste pressed against yours. You remember making campfires and singing around it. You remember how your favourite teacher sounded like. You recall the big fight you had with your mother. You remember that girl you kissed that made you feel you had fireworks inside your belly. Now tell me...does it matter if it was 30th of august or the 2nd of july?

Time is just a number. Age is just a number, as well. Prices, money - are just numbers. Can't you see it's an invention? Something made up, an ilusion created by real people, with real laughs, with real memories. Take your clock off. Let go of your phone when you're in good company.
Let go. These things they are made to help you, not to control you.

The only time I know is the time I had and the time I still have left.
If we can't tell - and we can't - when will we die, what is time?
What are these numbers we attribute ourselves? What does it matter if I'm 17 or 71, if I can die at any of these ages?

You should use hours as a tool, not as a god. You arrive on time at work, but the only thing you have to know is that the sun shines at daytime and the moon loves in the sky at night. And sometimes, if you look up the sky is still lighted on but you can already see a shy moon. Not even the sun and the moon follow the rules...

Don't let this control you, otherwise, the only thing you'll be late for, is your life.
You were my happy place
Uma noite.
Uma lua balouçava suspensa no céu. 
Uma música que vibrava pelo corpo.
Olhos turvos, ofuscados.
Várias bebidas.
E eu tenho-te comigo.
Duas mãos que se deram.
Se pensarmos bem, não havia muito a perder. E talvez quem sabe, havia algo a ganhar. Se assim for, somos os campeões da noite.
Da época.
Intoxicados pela vitória deixámos o festejo pela metade. 
A pergunta é: há mais para celebrar?
Ou é como no casino, sair do jogo enquanto estamos em vantagem? 

Ouve,
coração,
podes ligar.

(Nunca sais a perder).

13 de Julho de 2014



If you think about it, death is just the price we pay for being alive.

27 de Junho de 2014

cheers to you

Sitting back asking for another glass
You know I know my poison
And I’m glad it starts with your name

12 de Junho de 2014

Eu sei que estás algures por aí,
mas eu não sei a fazer o quê.
Eu sei que ando algures por aqui,
mas não faço ideia do porquê.
A diferença entre o aí e o aqui é a distância.
A distância é tão grande que só nos separa a nós.
Sejam milhas ou centímetros soa-me sempre a fugir.
Porque o aqui é hoje, mas o aí já vai no anteontem,
com muitas portas fechadas e muitos comboios perdidos.
Dou por mim a pedir números negativos:
Menos 5 centímetros ao quadrado entre nós, por favor
em dose para levar para casa.
Quando chegar em entrega ao domicílio
a distância que nos separa desaparece
fica a esperança do permanece.
A diferença entre o aqui e o aí é a distância.
E é tão longe.



25 de Maio de 2014

celebrating sadness

Foram 365 dias. Já foram 365 dias. Bem que podia ter sido 1. Bem que podiam ter sido 365 anos. Nem que tivessem sido todos até à eternidade. Nenhum teria sido suficiente, nem um nem todos. Não faria diferença. Vou estar sempre à espera de saber como sabe ter-te de volta. Espero que estejas em paz, eu vou estando, com a saudade de estar a caminho. Com a dor de ser do lado de lá. É isso, vais estar sempre do lado de lá. 

19 de Maio de 2014

Unquiet dreams

Are you awake? Don’t you have questions bouncing in your head that let you overwhelmed at three am? How do you do it? Tell me, do we have any control at all of our lives? Or is it just an illusion? Can we really change things or is it all meant to be? And if it is…who made it that way? I can’t sleep at night. I can’t sleep because so many things are happening in my life and I don’t think I can control them. But I don’t find a fair sense to them, too…
I used to believe I held a tiny part of the world in my hands…
We don’t own nothing… not even our destiny…fuck it, not even ourselves. Isn’t this a sad idea? To feel so infinitely controlled by something that doesn’t come from us. And if so, what’s wrong? What’s right? And why do we care…? The things that have to happen, will happen anyway.
How do we set ourselves free from the fear of not knowing, of not being capable of changing our own destiny?

And, how do we get to freedom?