quinta-feira, março 31, 2016
segunda-feira, março 28, 2016
domingo, março 20, 2016
Exile outside main street
Most of the times I miss my family
Then my friends
The real ones
Then memories of the past
Places where I used to go
Things that I used to do.
This is part of who I am
And I will carry it with me
Until I become the next person to be.
Think someday
I will have these same feelings
About what I'm living today.
Hope I never
Lose it away.
Then my friends
The real ones
Then memories of the past
Places where I used to go
Things that I used to do.
This is part of who I am
And I will carry it with me
Until I become the next person to be.
Think someday
I will have these same feelings
About what I'm living today.
Hope I never
Lose it away.
segunda-feira, fevereiro 29, 2016
in the midst of the night
in the midst of the night
I close my eyes
and I can feel your presence.
I know you were gone so long ago
I know there might be something above us
but I just can't help to shove
my own mind with
absent thoughts.
I wonder about what we could have been
If life wasn't so funny
so strange and
so mean.
"just keep on running", they say
just keep on doing
whatever you're doing
they beg
and I try
oh, god knows I try
with all my strenght and all my power
with all my soul and all my heart
but I can help myself from thinking
where have you been?
and what's beyond there?
Then we pray for the ancient gods
but we don't even believe in them.
we're just trying to find hope
in the loneliness of the night.
I close my eyes
and I can feel your presence.
I know you were gone so long ago
I know there might be something above us
but I just can't help to shove
my own mind with
absent thoughts.
I wonder about what we could have been
If life wasn't so funny
so strange and
so mean.
"just keep on running", they say
just keep on doing
whatever you're doing
they beg
and I try
oh, god knows I try
with all my strenght and all my power
with all my soul and all my heart
but I can help myself from thinking
where have you been?
and what's beyond there?
Then we pray for the ancient gods
but we don't even believe in them.
we're just trying to find hope
in the loneliness of the night.
quarta-feira, fevereiro 10, 2016
Beated
Jack Kerouac perdido e alcoólatra pelas ruas baixas de São Francisco
Neal Cassady dirigindo um ônibus sem direção ou sentido
Burroughs em Marrocos, fumando ópio
Ginsberg protestando em Nova York
A best generation perdurou
E pouco depois
Acabou.
Neal Cassady dirigindo um ônibus sem direção ou sentido
Burroughs em Marrocos, fumando ópio
Ginsberg protestando em Nova York
A best generation perdurou
E pouco depois
Acabou.
Foi incrível
Enquanto durou.
Enquanto durou.
segunda-feira, janeiro 11, 2016
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