tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70491662920806855862024-03-13T05:45:26.299-07:00golpes de pulsomarca a tua vida. quer numa folha, quer na tua pele.losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-69546622957618893562012-01-20T15:06:00.000-08:002012-01-20T15:06:21.260-08:00imagine...<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikhEgRSaPCFeCwUywRVaAgRGHu_rnvlY2PZTOzX0KuZNbGEgXBna6XSuMdN7qIsL0QWM-FIO6UyMG83HEX8ci_rPrR6kAXVjlBGbFvTXRUEZBmDwo-g3CeIadYkYn13Fvhyp9YUj50CI/s1600/148164_135433016510713_130001590387189_186715_3691346_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikhEgRSaPCFeCwUywRVaAgRGHu_rnvlY2PZTOzX0KuZNbGEgXBna6XSuMdN7qIsL0QWM-FIO6UyMG83HEX8ci_rPrR6kAXVjlBGbFvTXRUEZBmDwo-g3CeIadYkYn13Fvhyp9YUj50CI/s1600/148164_135433016510713_130001590387189_186715_3691346_n.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">imagine I'm a piece of wood in your fireplace. choose one and I'll be that one. I know this is just hypothethically, but, sometimes, I really wanted to be wood and just... burn... feel the fire, and nothing more. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">me turning into smoke, into dust.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">watch me. watch me disappear... forever... turning into nothing. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">so, take me and put me into the fire, with a simple and unregardful act and watch me... </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">watch me burn... </span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">and even being me who is on fire, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">you are the one who is feeling the pain. </span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-52879190642854862522011-10-08T12:17:00.000-07:002011-10-08T13:29:54.474-07:00paper cut<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm dreaming. I'm<i> just</i> dreaming, right now...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And I know that I'm dreaming, but I'm not quite sure. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Weird... </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/263425_166143903451941_106213489444983_387250_6718256_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/263425_166143903451941_106213489444983_387250_6718256_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Where am I? Far away from home?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm seeing a girl. So pretty, but... Why is she here? So lonely... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It could be me.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Now, I'm wondering why is she crying. Blood tears, running through her flawless skin.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm scared... I don't wanna dream anymore. I want my eyes open. NOW!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">...I woke up. I saw the letter you left me. Disturbing.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Then I put my pretty pink slippers on my feet and I went to my bathroom.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A broken mirror... My dark circules... And blood drops on my washbasin. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Oops! Paper cut.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-40693203316328685932011-07-31T17:19:00.000-07:002011-07-31T17:32:13.505-07:00noites em branco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWvnDDIl_g0mgoze_bMG6RGg_1zDhraNHF-rzaLaCXs5AG8nSKmIgPlVLAaLn6DAP2u4XVy2kjRNmgKy8xXe8aK-5_Ea83_vXFDGQqNRDpqhxQC7C4ruIFov1cqedV1qDc5Fkc6PktTA/s1600/window.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWvnDDIl_g0mgoze_bMG6RGg_1zDhraNHF-rzaLaCXs5AG8nSKmIgPlVLAaLn6DAP2u4XVy2kjRNmgKy8xXe8aK-5_Ea83_vXFDGQqNRDpqhxQC7C4ruIFov1cqedV1qDc5Fkc6PktTA/s1600/window.JPG" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Levantei-me. O corpo estava pesado e cansado, e, lá fora, escuro e frio. Olhei pela janela à espera de encontrar vestígios de respostas para apagarem o que não me deixava adormecer. As horas que dormira, apesar de terem parecido infinitas, ainda não tinham sido suficientes para o sol romper pelas gretas da janela do quarto e vir um novo dia, mais uma vez. Na solidão daquele espaço, acompanhavam-me os fantasmas do predicado do meu pesadelo, que faziam de ti o sujeito subentendido na nossa história. Agora era tarde de mais. Para ti, para nós e para o tempo que não passou. (…) Os ruídos mentais deste assombro foram depois engolidos pela última badalada do relógio da igreja da minha rua. Agora, percebi que os fantasmas do passado se haviam dissipado. De seguida, veio o silêncio. Por fim, vi que estava só. </span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-19562139111308839932011-07-20T12:56:00.000-07:002011-07-20T12:56:53.185-07:00cartas à chuva<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4crCN_FBze8jDoHb_ZGxg71HzlNjTf-pNPgNfTdE8D9vxR9-L_V5KnEiD7gxQA7TQDN4gwn8Tvt9tfHzpuGXZxyLpATjCmAewnzAS91ARbh_jFut9je2PE81MBlZualtwKrYA7J7MAyo/s1600/girl-hair-lipstick-pretty-red-Favim.com-103551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4crCN_FBze8jDoHb_ZGxg71HzlNjTf-pNPgNfTdE8D9vxR9-L_V5KnEiD7gxQA7TQDN4gwn8Tvt9tfHzpuGXZxyLpATjCmAewnzAS91ARbh_jFut9je2PE81MBlZualtwKrYA7J7MAyo/s1600/girl-hair-lipstick-pretty-red-Favim.com-103551.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Sozinha, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">ao fundo da sala, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">sentada à mesa de um restaurante qualquer, olho para a jarra de água com a flor de pétalas vermelhas, da mesma cor que o batom que tinha nos lábios. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Ao recordar memórias gastas, deito a última lágrima da noite, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">como o último pedaço da minha sobremesa</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> e dou o meu último soluço, enquanto limpo a boca, no guardanapo de papel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Estou farta que me mintas!; farta que me trates como se fosse Rainha do Mundo!; farta que me exijas a Perfeição da Natureza e eu só te consiga dar uma pétala morta do chão.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Dá-me água, dá-me luz! Não a saliva das tuas mentiras, nem o teu sorriso artificial. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Por tua causa, sequei e já nem tenho mais lágrimas para chorar. Desiludiste-me, mas… Sinceramente? Já estava à espera.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Pára de mentir! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Para quê promessas de pétalas, tão leves e frágeis? que, quando se despegam da flor, voam para o regresso do <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nunca mais</i>... Tal como a chuva, que começa no topo quando cai sobre as pétalas. Tu estavas lá em cima, também. Mas isso era dantes. Depois, as gotas vão caindo, escorrendo pelo caule, até ficarem por debaixo do chão. Sim, é aí que estás agora.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Antes eras a água que me alimentava e eu o ar que respiravas.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Agora</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">, sou só um guardanapo usado e tu, uma marca de batom.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-58018350408584722212011-07-10T04:35:00.000-07:002011-07-12T09:08:57.877-07:00copo sujo<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">atira esse prato de cristal branco sujo. parte-o em pedaços contra o chão, sem dó, utilizando a raiva que te percorre neste momento. não atires o copo!, senão abres a porta de vidro às almas condenadas. <strike>e não é justo</strike>.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHd0jgfJAshTWGdS28AvKD91gdb6e2PwsmILWAlMhnaQEuMozPTOkAy0fp25tEfoZ5WoCyukrZzFQhZnDvZKP2WPai3rOhdDEEs2lQWGGxALvgXbAv0Sa-dqmCDZIc0JH9YYxaxxogfc/s1600/33616_137331309652537_127026850682983_229747_2528415_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHd0jgfJAshTWGdS28AvKD91gdb6e2PwsmILWAlMhnaQEuMozPTOkAy0fp25tEfoZ5WoCyukrZzFQhZnDvZKP2WPai3rOhdDEEs2lQWGGxALvgXbAv0Sa-dqmCDZIc0JH9YYxaxxogfc/s1600/33616_137331309652537_127026850682983_229747_2528415_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">olha para o reflexo embaciado nos pedaços do teu ser: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">os pedaços es ti lha ça dos do prato que partiste. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">e enquanto tentas incorporar esses teus fragmentos de alma fria na carne </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">morna da raiva</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> do teu corpo, em traços de sangue e l</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">inhas de cristal</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, desvia len t a m e nte o olhar do pulso ferido e revê o copo que não partiste: as almas condensadas naquele objecto tão frágil... as almas que aprisionaste durante toda a tua vida. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">não tens medo, desse copo sujo? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">agora pára.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i> o tempo de gritar já passou.</i></span></div></div></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-86574480834894496092011-07-09T21:09:00.000-07:002011-07-12T08:46:21.664-07:00escuro<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">acende uma vela com a resina do teu respirar. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">fala baixinho como se um bebé tivesse adormecido, sozinho, no escuro.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">saca do isqueiro e GRITA com os teus instintos. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">acende, agora, os teus cabelos e faz a tua mente brilhar.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">fios de fogo, fios de luz, e... não,<i> já</i> não tenho medo. já não está escuro.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> pois </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> lua</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> descaiu</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> dois</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> centímetros</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">e já não consegue voltar ao lugar, porque a força da gravidade dos teus desejos é suja, como as palavras que dizes sem pensar.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">e depois o vento s o p r a , revoltado com não-sei-quê, como uma inspiração sem lógica que não nos deixa adormecer... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">(não é que não goste do vento. só não gosto das suas encenações de fuga que depois enquadra em pretextos de cansaço geográfico. não gosto de mentiras.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">despe a tua capa de luz e queima a tua máscara de cera, que eu vou adormecer o pequenino que crava as unhas na minha pele para adormecer. não me importo.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">fecha os olhos e adormece... tu que ainda não conheces o mundo, não tens razão para chorar. não, não chores desse sal que te corrói. eu canto-te a canção de embalar que a minha mãe me cantava antes de adormecer. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">(às vezes ainda a ouço, baixinho, no fim do corredor escuro, quando me levanto, a meio da noite, depois de ela me dar um beijo de boas-noites antes de se despedir de mim para sempre.)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">agora, tira o elástico azul-petróleo do pulso cortado e ata o cabelo. não gosto de o ver solto e perdido, a voar... foi assim que a minha mãe morreu: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdXIhMkmsw1ncoTHv89Fdm_FjiTT0wrWR70esvHjRu9rBV0CrrBouqRaHBsXxt-qhmR0N_hcrHBSlFymbfe0uYDw4bxQFtULKCJevp1Hy_k7FMjGHZD90Wc9Cxe2dAiPqSSNqIUG5U50/s1600/73245_138379869547681_127026850682983_236319_6723345_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdXIhMkmsw1ncoTHv89Fdm_FjiTT0wrWR70esvHjRu9rBV0CrrBouqRaHBsXxt-qhmR0N_hcrHBSlFymbfe0uYDw4bxQFtULKCJevp1Hy_k7FMjGHZD90Wc9Cxe2dAiPqSSNqIUG5U50/s1600/73245_138379869547681_127026850682983_236319_6723345_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>suicídio. </i></span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>nono andar.</i></span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-48466334141015774082011-07-09T19:48:00.000-07:002011-07-12T09:09:34.256-07:00clichés familiares<div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Piadas secas, típicas de um jantar em família.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">(...)</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Eles riem </span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">e eu choro, por dentro. </span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Eles falam</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> e eu grito, em silêncio. </span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Eles comem </span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">e eu devoro o meu interior. </span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>- Já não sou nada. Não tenho alma nem ser. Sou fumo do cigarro já morto que desfizeste no teu cinzeiro de vidro. O fumo já se desvaneceu no ar... E agora, de mim, já só restam cinzas.</i></span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowGRWmnFm7AQDnQBrbJok9nZjUzbURf0LWMQ793tPQklLrP5Vl08y71L_1IZa9KnkqT9GhlI14JcHD_nOSaxYDQLAGnXEuosIxs1fgu-YSTdXUAfQP6yr2wmdK9ZJn7HIU__Tz18V1Qw/s1600/74392_138608276191507_127026850682983_237376_4894683_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowGRWmnFm7AQDnQBrbJok9nZjUzbURf0LWMQ793tPQklLrP5Vl08y71L_1IZa9KnkqT9GhlI14JcHD_nOSaxYDQLAGnXEuosIxs1fgu-YSTdXUAfQP6yr2wmdK9ZJn7HIU__Tz18V1Qw/s400/74392_138608276191507_127026850682983_237376_4894683_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Levanto-me da mesa, vou a correr para o quarto </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">e bato a porta com força.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-82182714859630768962011-07-06T19:12:00.000-07:002011-07-12T08:45:15.165-07:00gretas<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-pVKWc5dKvOAk-M-e5NyliGIU664t0ocF6aDJoPraB2zQOQSS20EkERtaPAaW68r5WwU2XKlkDvBTQWyqNSUj_lvpmlOmswmF6b9hT3jZDj497mG58xVKYMtj6772oTyGH0tCephjv0/s1600/14727783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd-pVKWc5dKvOAk-M-e5NyliGIU664t0ocF6aDJoPraB2zQOQSS20EkERtaPAaW68r5WwU2XKlkDvBTQWyqNSUj_lvpmlOmswmF6b9hT3jZDj497mG58xVKYMtj6772oTyGH0tCephjv0/s320/14727783.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">g r e t a s. salpicos de sangue</span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">alma derramada em mãos mergulhadas <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">na secura gasta do tempo que não passou,<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">das memórias e da dor, que o vento não levou.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">g r e t a s. lábios rasgados<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">das palavras abertas e dos sorrisos forçados, <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">que se alimentam do frio e da gota que não cai,<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">da saliva que seca e da frase que não sai.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">g r e t a s. pele escamada em escadas de escama; <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">lençóis embrulhados e almofadas na cama, <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">desfeitas pela chuva, nos cantos da boca.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">pele livre e morta: solta.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">g r e t a s. fio de carne viva, por mim feita: <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">unha partida no polegar da mão direita. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">a camada de verniz negro fez um sulco ao puxá-la.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">então, desvio o olhar para o papel e escrevo na sala, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">sobre as</span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">g r e t a s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>da minha pele, que cobrem o meu inferno<o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">que me cortam e gelam, com as lâminas deste inverno.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div></div></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-71943662262138171472011-07-04T00:26:00.000-07:002011-07-12T08:54:43.831-07:00pena<div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6YcFXemsevh0JSAlFT4kSorKTUUgO4svTdnT0xtAVXd6cbi09Sfwh_jA1S5azFO6HxgZmoug7fOJNRh8x5l82K3upwXLqwpjVTX7es7mFfjew2BAkLvjpTk71iQW9PViINlXLXONQbM/s1600/66623_134284606623874_127026850682983_208325_4625943_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6YcFXemsevh0JSAlFT4kSorKTUUgO4svTdnT0xtAVXd6cbi09Sfwh_jA1S5azFO6HxgZmoug7fOJNRh8x5l82K3upwXLqwpjVTX7es7mFfjew2BAkLvjpTk71iQW9PViINlXLXONQbM/s1600/66623_134284606623874_127026850682983_208325_4625943_n.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Tenho tanta pena do chão, que todos os dias é pisado por nós; das palavras, usadas vezes e vezes sem conta; das peças de roupa, que andam às voltas na máquina, até ficarem sem cor; do verniz que seca, quando fica esquecido numa mala qualquer; e do <em>amo-te</em> vulgarizado, todos os dias, por densas almas sem forma.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> Tenho pena de mim. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> Tenho pena de ti... </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"> por isso, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">vou-me calar para sempre e nunca mais abrirei a boca. Vou suicidar o meu pensamento circular na inconsciência suja e nunca mais abrirei a mente. Vou fugir, para lugar nenhum, e nunca mais abrirei as feridas, <u>as feridas que nunca irão sarar</u>.</span></div><div style="line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049166292080685586.post-43178349696576451102011-07-01T19:15:00.000-07:002012-01-20T15:12:49.800-08:00brancas<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OLSJuADXrU2mfkr9Uw46G2A24aq2b6n2sUNXHNgrM86CVFhBr136kdbrvarXaurjvp6Hh5ktDloj_LJZ2xmv-CTboxVackbEhEU-r6ElP5X0hqFiz9cpP_IB7zffwfdOT_XcIy2cAz4/s1600/157001_146874545364880_127026850682983_285443_3709832_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OLSJuADXrU2mfkr9Uw46G2A24aq2b6n2sUNXHNgrM86CVFhBr136kdbrvarXaurjvp6Hh5ktDloj_LJZ2xmv-CTboxVackbEhEU-r6ElP5X0hqFiz9cpP_IB7zffwfdOT_XcIy2cAz4/s1600/157001_146874545364880_127026850682983_285443_3709832_n.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 18px;">Odeio esquecer. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Por vezes é o melhor, eu sei, mas nós somos feitos de matéria, de memórias e vento. Se não os temos, somos amnésicos de alma. Somos fumo. Somos nada, vento de sentimento oco. Às vezes entra por mim uma ideia, que depois se vai embora, sem deixar registo, para além de vazio. As chamadas b r a n c a s . . . Irritam-me profundamente, fazem-me comichão no ego e dão-me voltas à barriga. É <i>estar</i> e <i>fazer</i> sem lembrar a razão, é sensação de perda e de limitação. Não quero esquecer, não quero... não quero... mas o tempo passa e apaga. Há coisas que quero que fiquem, mas vão, mesmo sem querer. Então escrevo, como que hipnotizada pelo relógio de bolso, ferrugento. Escrevo sem história, inconsciente, sem memória... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Escrevo sem saber.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div>losthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02965642762446954447noreply@blogger.com0