Dias nefastos. Caminhos perniciosos. Compaixão refutada. Pecado verde, a aspiração ao poder não conta contigo.


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Imagem e Texto: Izi.

Ora faz sol,
Chora chuva:
Canções de ninar
e Nicotina,
Alguém tem que ceder.

When you say I can't, do you really mean it?
Is it just to keep me from trying? To keep me thinking I could... To allow me that thinniest hope?
Or is it because you think I'd deceive, fail myself? Do you want to avoid having to deal, to bear with me if I did?
Tell me, would you brush me away that easily?

There's nothing quite as painful as a lost chance, is there?

It hurts less when it bleeds.

I was dreaming about you. About that head of yours that rested against my chest, and my hand that lazily ruffled your hair, slowly driving you to sleep. About that deep and rich voice you possess, filling my ears with such trivial and meaningless things like my name. About that heat radiating from your body, soothing every place of mine that ached and craved for more.
A dream. I was still running my fingers through your hair when I woke up. Just another dream.

My, my... Why does it feel so good to be fooled?

Flutuar no Universo,
ver o Mundo de perto,
ver a Terra girar.

("Cogumelo Azul", Ventania)



Às vezes, gira demasiado depressa. Quase sem se dar por ela. Deixando um travo amargo depois.
Outras, resolve fazer-se notar. Reclamando o equilíbrio como seu. Deixando-nos tontos.
Raramente, alia-se a todos os outros. Confinando-se a tudo o resto. Deixando-me em paz.

I've willingly drowned in my own dreams and awoke believing in myself. Suddenly, being selfish feels good.