Basics

0 voices

Not sure if it's nature that makes us like this
or if it has something to do with genes
but there's a code that's written
one that makes us weak on specific spots
some kind of label with instructions
we all carry, on the back of our heads.

From objects to sensations
Whispers and sounds
We must have them, collect them
Own them and live through them
We all must have at least one of these.

Pages from a book of stories, maybe
or counted nights in one roll of hours put together
going back to the basic need
simple desire of one special thing we all want,
no matter what comes with it
even if it's pain, we feel it with joy.
Read On

Self Talk Sessions

0 voices


Where do you think you're going?
What are you planning on doing?
What's the purpose of building something night by night?
If there's nothing else behind this wall...

What do you think I'm trying to pretend?
Why do you believe in this hidding of realness?
Like if for a moment, you'd think we are made of plastic
No more than hard and rough components...

What a fantasy of walking forward...
How easy can I make this wall disappear in front of my eyes...
But how strong it feels when it shows up.
Read On

Habbit

0 voices


Of wanting to label and contain
Define and translate
Store and save
Preserve and admire

Collecting old uses of forgotten stories
Unloved phrases thrown away
Connections and meaningful spots

Too used to keep clear glasses
mixing liquids with solids
and hoping like a teenager for a perfect match

Granting whispers by fading words
words that scape from my head
just before I catch and hide

Habbit of keeping, holding
understanding,
excusing myself
for being this way.
Read On

2 lines-Thought: Granted

0 voices


Nothing new, and something I should have known better:
If you take me for granted, it's just because I want to
Read On

Divine Collision

1 voices


There's a division in my senses and structures
Two different corners for ideas to develop
Two versions of my will power
One that ask the other one for permission...
... to do these things...
... to think this way...
... to act like this.

One I face and the other one I struggle with
One that makes me lie constantly
and the other one that provides life so often.

While I support this side, there she is exploring secrets in my head...
Seeking for what I try hard not to show, and pushing me to fun and joyful extremes.
She does not care for the future
and there's just a few ideas she'd refuse.

... I just wonder what would happen if they merge,
... combined into one silver state to bring unknown thoughts to this surface,
... maybe just to risk a bit more.

In the photo: Wal & Mischa P.

Lyrics by U2

Magnificent
Oh, oh, magnificent

I was born, I was born
To be with you in this space and time
After that and ever after
I haven't had a clue only to break rhyme
This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar

I was born, I was born to sing for you
I didn't have a choice but to lift you up
And sing whatever song you wanted me to
I give you back my voice from the womb
My first cry, it was a joyful noise, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar
Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh
Magnificent, magnificent, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love unites our hearts
Justified, till we die you and I will magnify, oh, oh
Magnificent, magnificent, magnificent
Read On

The Station

0 voices


I look from side to side, people walking too fast to notice any sound. Layers of noise bring my senses into a state of alarm, some soft chaos that calls my name... I guess there's no option but to fall into it.

Was this the right station? 

I remember memorizing the path, putting marks on each place and drawing arrows to lead the way. I guess this is the following stop, gotta make sure because once I step out, the train won't come back to the station... my only option would be going forward, with unplanned changes.

Is this the right station?
This ground should feel familiar soon enough.
Read On

2 lines-Thought: Touched

0 voices


I would have loved this awkward platonic interaction...
and get touched by some magical flirting.
Read On

Expired Playground

0 voices


I created this place, knowing exactly what I was doing... Some special areas for them to enjoy and fool around, fun and happy sounds to bring them closer together. They came.. as I thought they would, but not knowing it was going to become this kind of place.

One with unknown experiences, atittudes, answers and crushed sensations. One place that brought all of them to make me face my own fears and hide them just to keep them here, without moving too far away... Feeding this urge of company with the best of souls I could ever find; I always picked the best of them, no doubt about it.

They came and had fun, they developed many different sides of themselves while playing in this area of mine, maybe enjoying my presence, maybe just letting things flow without asking for too many explanations... Just a fun playground to be at. My very own feared playground.

I've been afraid of letting them go, for so long... because having them here has been good to me, and all the efforts I've made to make it happen have been joyful, in a very shitty way, I like doing what I do to keep them close to my special place, just because of the constant fear of being alone if I don't do the right thing for each one of them.

The right phrase
The right movement
The right answer
The right question
The right smile

All in a pathetic system that I learned too quickly... But got also too used to last..

I stand here tonight, in front of their laughs, wonders, doubts, different and huge opinions of what I've decided about this place... I stand here not caring about what they will think about this statement, beacause I got tired of being tired, tired of seek for them, and making the efforts most of the time. If the idea is to let them go, then please just do...

...I will sure enjoy all this alone green for myself. This playground has expired.

In the photo: Ruth
Lyrics by Depeche Mode (This lyrics have one different interpretation from the other lyrics I usually share with each post)

wrong

wrong

wrong

wrong

I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique

Wrong

Wrong

There's something wrong with me chemically
Something wrong with me inherently
The wrong mix in the wrong genes
I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means
It was the wrong plan
In the wrong hands
The wrong theory for the wrong man
The wrong eyes on the wrong prize
The wrong questions with the wrong replies

Wrong

Wrong

I was marching to the wrong drum
With the wrong scum
Pissing out the wrong energy
Using all the wrong lines
And the wrong signs
With the wrong intensity
I was on the wrong page of the wrong book
With the wrong rendition of the wrong look
With the wrong moon, every wrong night
With the wrong tune playing till it sounded right yeah

Wrong

Wrong
(Too long)
Wrong
(Too long)

I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique

Wrong
Read On

A Gift

0 voices

This is the story of a gift left on the floor, brown medium size box with blue glitter on it. They both walked by it a few times, didn't notice it was just laying there, weird forgotten wrapped present just left on the floor.


They wondered about it a few times, walked around it a bit closer, because it was just there on the floor, like if no one else was suppose to take it. Just a gift that people forgot to take with them.


The fear or holding it was so, that they got inside and jumped in, just to see what was laying inside that weird squared thing always surrounding them. They were in it, just for the exact time before making it vanish, never understanding what that was all about.


Just a gift, left in the middle of the floor... too small to care for it, too shiny to look at it, too real to even think about it. A gift that stayed there to never be touched.. ever again.
Read On

Burn out

0 voices

When it lights up, feels warm and safe... like two pieces that belong and match together, special parts that attract each one, coming together as perfect syncronization. Just for the time this last, I give myself in.

But then it goes away, because its time has been measured previously. And while the sun comes out, with no more fire to feel, I stare at your sleep and gaze with such sensation, one that just then I realize, will stay with me a few days, until my brain pushes away and I see you again.

Because when it burns, sparkles shine on your breath, my hair between your fingers and this invisible desire to stay. Just before it burns out, I take all these ideas and admire them, because they are so rare and so sensitive that you fear them... Now we both leave and the fire burns out, leaving me wondering for how long my mind can take it.

Lyrics by Oasis

Born on a different cloud
From the ones that have burst round town
It’s no surprise to me
That yer classless, clever and free...

Loaded just like the gun
You’re the hero that’s still unsung
Living on borrowed time
You’re my sun and you’re gonna shine

Talking to myself again
This time I think I’m getting through
It’s funny how you think
It’s funny when you do

Lonely soul
Busy working overtime
Nothing ever gets done
Specially when your hands are tied

Lonely soul
Baking up your mother’s pride
Nothing ever gets done
Not until your war’s won
Read On

Jagged [1]

0 voices


This will be a series of posts about the record of my life. Each song, each line, each sound; because with all of her songs I feel like everything has been said, and every word defines me... It's me sharing the album of my life. I'm going to break thesongs down from my own perspective one by one, because I think some have heard the record, but they still haven't actually heard it.

[1] All I Really Want.

We can give in so easily to other people... people and what they need, want, expect... like if a big gigantic eraser would be chasing us, us and our needs, desires, expectations.

We give and fight back, because we wan't to avoid it.. Not compromising, holding back, expressing things loud and clear... Us and them.. a continuos struggle.

And I wonder... all the time, what the hell do they want?

The song:

http://tinysong.com/tdWC

The Lyrics:

Do I stress you out
My sweater is on backwards and inside out
And you say how appropriate
I don't want to dissect everything today
I don't mean to pick you apart you see
But I can't help it
There I go jumping before the gunshot has gone off
Slap me with a splintered ruler
And it would knock me to the floor if I wasn't there already
If only I could hunt the hunter
And all I really want is some patience
a way to calm the angry voice
And all I really want is deliverance
Do I wear you out
You must wonder why I'm relentless and all strung out
I'm consumed by the chill of solitary
I'm like Estella
I like to reel it in and then spit it out
I'm frustrated by your apathy
And I am frightened by the corrupted ways of this land
If only I could meet the maker
And I am fascinated by the spiritual man
I am humbled by his humble nature
What I wouldn't give to find a soulmate
Someone else to catch this drift
And what I wouldn't give to meet a kindred
Enough about me, let's talk about you for a minute
Enough about you, let's talk about life for a while
The conflicts, the craziness and the sound of pretenses
Falling all around.... all around
Why are you so petrified of silence
Here can you handle this?
Did you think about you bills, your ex, your deadlines
Or when you think you're going to die
Or did you long for the next distraction
And all I need now is the intellectual intercourse
A soul to dig the hole much deeper
And I have no concept of time other than it is flying
If only I could kill the killer
All I really want is some peace man
A place to find a common ground
And all I really want is a wavelength
All I really want is some comfort
A way to get my hands untied
And all I really want is some justice.....
Read On