Vejo o mundo passar por mim. Pessoas, muitas pessoas sorriem, encontradas umas nas outras. Eu sorrio o sorriso delas mas cá dentro, a face não mexe. Ontem fui a uma festa, uma festa num lugar giro. Fui e me sentei lá e observei. Fui observado também. E foi só isto. Era uma festa?

Tenho adorado como tu sorris ao mundo e eu despreocupado.
Sentas-te a meu lado, eu leio-te algo e tudo se conforma a nós: raro estado.

Descobri que vives em minha mente e que sou servo dum qualquer ideal
talento que só meu silencio procria em misteriosa plataforma de arte.

Tenho parado a pensar: o que sou eu? quê desta vida me quer?
Mas logo descubro que o meu percurso foi fazer-me desaparecer
para me descobrir a cada instante um outro novo ser.

Pode ser angustiante a pena desta alegria imensa ser lâmina que me corta a presença
mas não será menos angustiante que viver em angustia sem o saber?

Não tenho nada a dizer, desculpa.
Gosto tanto de te poder ver e sentir, ver fluírem de mim sonhos, projecções e revoluções.
Mil por segundo, milhões por minuto.

É que gosto de viver, é só.

Mas, gosto assim, parado, estático, a olhar o movimento alheio.

Actions count not words.

Life is infinite so be willing to die more than one time.

May your art be your heart.

Talvez me odiar um pouquito me ajude a viver a vida.
Curioso...

In sketchy times you see what "civilized" really means...

Be the gods fair with my giving.

A loucura é apenas espiritualidade.
Reprimi-la é alimentar a loucura.
A loucura é o lado negativo da espiritualidade.
Já que a espiritualidade nada deve ao racional,
se este a tenta interpretar entrará numa espiral de decadência.

Sentindo-te a enlouquecer, deixa-te ser. Tempo passará
e depois dessa doentia dança de ansiedades verás que ainda aqui estás,
mais leve, menos louco, mais em contacto com o tempo e espaço.

Em tempos de mudança a espiritualidade sai à rua
mostrando sua penugem brilhante que contrasta, em Grande,
com o hábito anterior que a escureceu à desventura da ausência.

A espiritualidade é o que se não explica, assim sendo, pouco
ser humano tem a graça de lhe achar graça.

Estamos, finalmente, num novo tempo de uma nova espiritualidade, creio.

Assim sendo há que compreender que a loucura, angústia, ansiedades
e stresses actuais são apenas manifestações e consequências de uma mentalidade
anterior que se prende a coisas que mais não são.

Então quando te sentires a enlouquecer compreende que é só o (teu) espirito a querer viver.
Deixa tempo passar e adapta-te, aos poucos, à mudança.
Ela vem quer queiras quer não...

Sleeping shine turns my nightfall dreams into sunlight.
Mathematical feelings get beyond my possible response.
Created along side coasts that receive brutal waves of salt sea.
Unforgettable mornings of unsucess and together with my happiness
I fall into very well known fears of mine. They're fine, they're fine.
Majestic witch reveals my nightmares being friendly gentle misfits of my youth.
Cross fading into madness I rewrite what I saw perfectly living it in here.
Secrets get unreliable when you do have a soul that reflects you, out there.
Getting to nothingness is something. At least is getting somewhere.
Now, don't know. Shadows used to provide me light beyond this dark hours
that my body assists me on living. Created by some god that now is a child of mine.
Left me alone to face the earth, sun, people, feelings, those strange feelings...
Perhaps metaphors are for tomorrow when you're, somehow, forced to live.
There is no wisdom on knowing that you can live but you don't: that's what I mean about "forced".
Been in madness for so long... Beautiful and innocent madness of mine and mind.
If I could throw up all this disease of knowledge, I could see with "eyes unclouded by hate"
the real dreams of mine, just I.
But, no "ifs" - I believe.
So, slipping into raw reality I stop not, thinking my unthought acts on her.  
Problems I solve unsolving life and times being I am as it happens.
No more creating what I live, I live only.
Fire up the canons and feed me your unfinished blood for I to get cleaner and softer
dissecting them.
Got to get back to waves of unfinished life.
Reality needs dreams of I and I, you and that other unfinished you.
Life needs believing people to return to her.
Everyone went way, it's time to come back.

Fear is afraid of unafraid people.

Don't be afraid and fear will avoid you.

God is what you want him to be.

Blender of dreams

You pursuit me with obscessity, I run for as long as I know me.
Concrete past makes the times shake. My existence is bright, full of light.
It's an impossibility to have known you but it happened, a long, long time ago.
Nightmares I flew and flouting on one now I do think in the possibility of the possible.
Never knew how to get there, don't know how to stop. My life doesn't know me,
I'm forgotten in a sweet and gentle dream of childhood. A picture of I with 4 years old
is what makes me go and go. Those lost eyes, that hair, that baby fat face of infinite innocence.
My life is my love for my young self.

Empty bottles stretched to the horizon and I read the sea as an immense book of knowledge.
A power that I left behind is wanting me back. So, I run. For as long as I know my self I run.
Prophecies get into my head and I don't know how to come, realize the fog.
Maybe tomorrow will come when I be not and you arrive to nowhere in me.
Love is nihilism and it drives you crazy.
Real, not real. Alone or accompanied.
Where is the life chosen for me?
Who is you and what do you want from me?
Time is not when I'm not.
Death always closer and I look the other way smiling.
Ways of doing things, it's just ways of doing things.
Can't get no coherence in my life, I'm just too perfectionist.
Deal with life as a mathematical being.
Can't get there. Know that I can't get there, though I go.
Follow the shadow my friend, follow the shadow.     

Got to be free
even if that means to conscientiously choose to be enslaved.

The only supreme freedom lives in your mind, your dream, your believing.
For the times are enchained by "normality", powerful and natural human emotions censored.

Freedom, first in your head, with yourself, in your bed: dreaming.

Sleep, smile, be sad, love completely but no need to show it.

For the times have no time for you, choose you for the times.

There's a lot of irony about the meaning of the word "free".
For seeming free is probably the one more enslaved by his thoughts and limitations.

Freedom is, in one way, knowing that you aren't and because you
keep living chains get tired and show you light to the world.

Not easy, not easy being free.

Only the hermit is wise , the others get killed in one way or another.

Freedom is not to be lived completely for it is the union between life and death through individual conscientiousness. 

Freedom is you existing without boundaries between you and others; you and the sun, moon;
day, night; cold , hot.
Everything's the same.
Everything's one.

Freedom is not being you, it's being every single thing at the same time.

Freedom is unstoppable, freedom is being god of your destiny.

Freedom is impossible but you can make it if you believe.

Nevertheless the most pure and shiny freedom is the one that chooses to be conscientiously enslaved. 

Paradoxical, no?

Getting there, mystery of time that passes with body's weight.
No more the anguish of tomorrow's knowing. Can't say what this day will bring, how to project tomorrow's spring? Got to get there, with gentle eyes and heavy heart. Concrete novel of my past forgotten by some new, rare experience that seems that I have to experience. Living is time to get by with smiley faces and unforgettable moments that I have to forget for new to come. Walking the streets of Lisbon - specially at night - for example, is for me one of the most high moments that I can imagine. Loving people with sad faces, even cold faces, look away. I smile. Experiencing life as it was about to end. Time travels and I stay. No money nor home to get away. To find some other eyes that shine like mine. We all have it, it's just that we're afraid. So open to all that it hurts. Getting there, yes, that's it, have to get there.  

O poeta não vive,
experencia a vida.
Cada gesto ou acção
reflecte em sua mente.

Need to be small to get to the top.
Small and open, light caresses your laments.
Before spirit comes truth and to find her you need to really go down stream.
Find my self in a day without faith, strange thing to me...
Get up, get up and you'll see. What? Who? Where?
Nothingness.
Oh
Silence
Ah
Don't take your feelings nor your life too seriously.
Unfortunately you were fecundated by a powerful demon that now sings in you
since you've tamed him.
Don't believe in lost souls that claim you outside.
Truth lies in you giving time to your discomfort with it.  
Never thought coming to this but life's a journey and I'm impregnated in it.
Flowers fly tomorrow and see your eyes in others: that is beauty.
Can't find no meaning,
Can't find no place to be.
My material home is a graveyard for so long that I created a paradise in my head.
A paradise that has to be closed completely for I to stay believing.
Strange life.
Crazy thoughts come threw my mind and I, and I watch them go by,
As that when I talk to somebody that moment shines.
So, together with that strange believing I get by.

Strawberries get wet with my pleasure, oh god!
In the sky of trees my eyes collide in density with the mighty eagle that dances up, up out there!
Margins of myself have found some coordinates on roots that spring from all of us.
Nights fall in to energy that consume my day, my day, my day...
Congrats to those who don't know and follow.
Fools, dancing fools.
My life grows beneath the oak tree and nobody knows it, just me.
A silence that I developed is being torn from outside in, "open to all" me says "open to all".
Life is a world of others. My conscience, my consciousness is my life.
Dark upsets the light. Kings and witches marry, vagabonds and queens fuck.
Together with the world we dance in an eternal burst of believing.
The horizon is crumbling and I smile,
and he in me smiles. One of those smiles is a sad one. Don't know which one is...
Never know and knowing it so we do go, we go and time finds us what to do.
Silence is my bed, everything else is just instead.
Can go?
Who knows?
Find it hard to comprehend time: from given past, to sudden present, to unrepresented future.
 Oranges that I ate yesterday are getting rotten, not inside but outside me.
Maybe the floor is not and my day is just material and hasn't me in it.
 But still, butterflies tickle my ears and mind making me smile like a child.
 Big problem of mine always was and is that I'm happy all the time.
Even more so when darkness covers me and I feel, with divine intensity and passion,
that I'm still breathing,
still alive.
 Match that with what?
Death finds me smiling so I must live.
 Life is always strangely and impossibly beautiful for those who knew and know hell.
 I'll go to sleep now and when I wake up I'll be conscious of breathing.
The eternal cycle of life will be, yet again, in just one day.
Goodnight infinite souls of discomfort,
life is perfectly in you.

Encontro com o vazio,
Frente a ferro escorregadio.
Amanhã amanhece dentro e fora de mim.
Principio da incerteza sorri-me num sorriso irónico quase cinico.
É um fim, talvez principio.
Aliás e enfim, quem sabe?

Find myself away from where I started.
Arrows of destiny entwined and heart's slipping in to rational chaos.
Give it a minute to fall and in the mighty floor I'll understand feelings.
Time is brief although all that I feel seems eternal.
Life has no flavour nor space. Have to move your body,
get it there. Where?
Don't ask questions.
Time passes and you look at the stars, moon and to your self in the mirror,
and what do you see? Reflections...
Get it together.
Let time pass and walk along side calm.
Destiny will come to you if you're good.

Living is not knowing.

GottaBeLiving




GottaBelieveIn