chopping mountains...

Funny maybe the feeling that I have is corrupting my supposed-to-be-pride. I may confess I felt some weekness today while putting apart some things, I felt like… “what the shit im doing?” or “whattahell”, but I cant explain where the hell she had her cell phone stolen and we went to the police dept. to register a occurrence, and then a Sicillian man was so pissed there and then I told him “hard time hum?” and over the sudden he embraced all my moment tentions calling me a mother fucker, with a Manhattan accent, and then I felt like I was back home, in US. The most strange part of all is that I felt like I could mate the so happy childhood with a not-so-past relationship, while living in a strange American Brazil, but I felt real when she tenderly said…” I cant live like this anymore…” and I said “yeah, so, we wont, its over…”, and she had my heart in my hands when she almost cried… I felt so bad… but then I gave her a kiss and I tried to carry on… Things will be better in a way, I’ll miss her skin and lips, kiss and hips (needed to rhyme… ), when I came back to my dad’s place, I dropped by to the Italian’s guy and said a hello, in a way he helped to forget all the regret. I’ll try to listen more to some Hendrix and try to play them while I keep in touch with myself, keeping any kind of bad feelings in the guitar while I play her… actually, I’ll make a crazy thing on my sunburst guitar, I’ll paint her with some white flowers… make some new things… I need to try, otherwise I wont give a chance to myself… people, I love you all, even knowing that anyone reads this crap… kisses to all!

Cute dirt...

Maybe I missed the shape of a regular work day, where I come, talk to everyone, see what’s happening, and tell the one I once loved that everything’s alright, maybe my head wont need to plan anymore undoable things just to try to make life more exciting. The fact is that I still didn’t figure out a way out of this prison that I made, that I built the walls and painted black or dark colors with a simple illusion of a white-colored room with a big wooden window with a great view… Think about a Homelife… dream about a homelife, like I could listen my head telling me that, screaming, shouting, trying to fetch my attention caught in a John Mayer live song. But who is responsible for our destiny? We are. We are the ones that will take the necessary and unnecessary actions trying to be bright or to be clever while you save your own life. “…dreaming ‘bout making you my wife… dreaming ‘bout the homelife….you take your homelife…”
In fact I’m not a-okey, but I’ll do just fine, just keep walking (Johnny Walker, lol)… kisses!

(The picture maybe stands up for what i have to do, even if the time run thru my hands, i'll stand still as the captain of my life, making a smooth ride... strange how mickey did that... rs)

Bumbling with the Humble bee's

Well... i gotta tell you... it would be harder then i thought... I saw once a shiny piece of the sun inside your soul, a perfect space for some hope, a beautiful garden of love, and some peaceful space for my heart… but it rained, it snowed and the seasons made our heart grow different, weeds came out from the nowhere and maybe to feel you still-beating heart I needed to change and maybe cut some branches… Maybe the touch of your fingers in my rough skin would never be the same again… maybe the sun would not be so comfortable in the freezy winter of your madness or mortified by some suddenly-came-from-nowhere thoughts… Your flower that once had Purple petals, now are brown and dusty, trying to figure out what did the weather have to do with its change… but the weather didn’t change… you made the world change with the pollen you gave to the bees, that made a different honey, that the bear ate and roared different, and killed the hunter, and made the world a hostile place to be, and Gaia couldn’t do nothing for it… of course… life had found a new path to go… maybe The Gardener should change the pots or the water, or change the plants, or even the flowers… well… if I knew the future, living in the present wouldn’t be so terrific! (or not… lol)
Take care people, cause I’m trying to do the same, and my friends are doing the same for me… =)

Pensamento guardado a uma semana...

Well, dudes I gotta tell ya.. Remember when I mentioned once in this same blog about a dream that I had and I woke up and still felt in a dream? I need to give more emphasis on that feeling for this post, you know, I still sometimes wake up and still I'm stuck in this dream… but remember the girl? Well… she exists… and the most wicked thing that I can reveal is that I saw her, and in a few words and some tender kisses, I felt like I knew her since I was a harmless boy, "…lets tell the world we're in that crazy moon.." and so my head went on… since that day that I felt like in a dream, or film, or whatever it could be, but with the perfect feeling, I just knew that things should be changing for me… I guess that maybe I should tell her more times "…Lets get lost!" Things tried to change, and in the most special moments with her… I sang "Time after Time", a very charming Chet Baker song that almost made the moment sacred, and we imagined our lives in a few years, and wondered if we could continue this dream… well, I hope so…"you kept my love so young, so new…I'm so lucky to be loving you.". The most funny part of every thing, is that we have the same sensations and feelings, even if we're not close… She usually would say "it's because we have a connection, silly!" Well, I hope I don't wake up for this dream… I know that not everything's magic, but who said that everything need to be so serious? Just like a friend should say: "Why so serious?" The Main point is, let life be the way it should and try to feel all of the wonderful sensations and tick-tacky things that maybe hurt you, but would make you who you really need to be. (she taught me that too, but in another ways)

I knew that the day would be slow...

Who wants to know when the day has gone when you have someone you love by your side, and can maybe target all your missing goals to become true. But in the end of the day, the day will be old, and be dead when the night shows up, but the birth of a becomeing tomorrow will bring new wishes and new never-dreamed goals and never-had-scores.
So, what kept me up to write this?