voce ainda sabe rezar mister?...

aprendi soh agora valentine...

e para quem voce reza mister?...

mas nao eh bem rezar valentine... apenas vez ou outra uma espiada na vida alheia...

aff mister...

na vida de quem voce ama valentine... mas acho que nao soh... mas para quem voce ama, nao eh bem reza... eh uma procura por palavras... e soh quando parecer necessario valentine... quando parecer que o sofrimento daquele que voce ama nao estah muito bem ajustado aos erros que ele cometeu... e aos erros que outros cometeram com ele... nada bem ajustado valentine... e eh um fardo que ele parece mal poder carregar...

merecia mais da felicidade mister?...

oh yeah valentine... mas entao...

mas entaaooo?...

mas entao para quando voce compreender que algo infelicita alguem que voce ama... primeiro voce busca palavras para descrever esse algo... se voce encontrar as palavras certas, boas palavras melhor dizendo valentine, voce propria quase que sofrerah da mesma dor...

affmister...

e depois voce busca palavras para compor a oracao que voce melhor puder compor e que talvez possa aliviar a dor que ja eh quase sua tambem...

a reza para a vida alheia mister... mas para nenhum deus mister?...

soh para o ser humano valentine... esse deus que nao existe mesmo e que ainda nem bem foi criado por nos, que somos mesmo apenas medianamente humanos valentine...

idade media mister?...

oh yeah dear... mas aih tambem nao eh bem reza valentine...

busca de palavras novamente mister... aff...

primeiro para descreve-lo valentine... e depois para ir fazendo perguntas... descreva primeiro o seu deus valentine... e depois vah fazendo perguntas para ele... que vez ou outra ele resolve aparecer diante de voceh para os dois chorarem juntos, cada um por si a sua dor, e cada um pelo outro, tambem a tristeza do outro valentine...

aff mister... que chorao voce eh... deus meu...



and so this great gig in the sky mister...

you need to let it more and more higher valentine...

porque voce precisa mesmo levar sua inquietacao ate os ceus mister...

levar sua inquietacao ate pelo menos o ceu que voce criou valentine....

quem sabe nao seja ouvida pelos deuses que voce criou mister...

oh yeah dear... oh yeah valentine...

mas a Felicidade eh mesmo uma boa deusa valentine...

se nos obriga a chorar, ainda assim nos obriga por alegria mister...

oh yeah dear... oh yeah...

new history mister?...

no new history valentine...

but still love mister?... oh yeah dear...

quantas cartas ainda restam?...

algumas mister...

embaralhe os nomes valentine...

retire uma carta por vez mister...

e continue seu jogo de voce contra voce mesmo...

mas tambem a favor valentine... mas nao se trata de jogo...

eh o amor que deseja se jogar no abismo sem mais querer saber o que poderah encontrar mister...

it could be said this way dear... mas ainda parece jogo de azar...

e que abismo eh esse valentine?...

o abismo que existe entre voce e ela mister... sorry...

ou o abismo que ela criou ao se retirar valentine... sorry anyway mister...

vou pedir um curto mister...

o curto eh para a macheza do sujeito la valentine... per dio...

e a calcca curta para a sua mister... god...

um ou outro mais sensivel e delicado aparece vez ou outra e pede o curto mister...

italian way of life...

cartas e amantes mister...

mulheres e carteado valentine...

sempre apostando nas mulheres...

sempre perdendo as calccas mister...

esvaziar os bolsos basta valentine...

but now nothing compares mister...

mas agora nada se compara ao vazio daquele abismo valentine...

seu copo estah vazio mister...

o copo se esvazia e a alma se enche de alguma esperancca...

e logo de alguma ressaca mister...

mas agora qualquer palavra eh moeda falsa valentine...

qualquer palavra que nao seja um claro pedido de perdao mister...

oh yeah dear...

e mesmo assim voce nao quer se calar mister...

nao se trata de querer valentine...

voce nao quer e nao pode mister...

voce nao quer e nao pode viver sem o perdao de quem voce ama valentine...

e se ele nao vier mister...

voce vai existindo mas nao sei o que vive em voce valentine...

cogito ergo sum mister...

penso nela logo existo e sofro valentine...

ate mais uma vez voce reaprender a viver sem mais alguns de seus supostos privilegios mister...

desta vez sem o privilegio da ilusao de algum amor que pudesse vir do coracao dela para o seu...

que o amor dela nunca foi mesmo privilegio seu mister... oh yeah dear...

e talvez desta vez tambem sem o privilegio da amizade valentine...

e quem sabe voce nao tera que reaprender mais uma vez ainda mister...

e mais uma vez ainda valentine...

stand in line for this mister...

o que for e conforme o combinado de qualquer maneira valentine...

conforme o combinado mister...

mas agora vamos la... hora de renascer mais uma vez... nao precisa ser muito diferente do que era antes...

mas alguma diferencca tem que haver valentine...

o doutor fausto vendeu a alma mister...

tudo vale a pena para te-la ou esquece-la valentine...

melhor para te-la mister... que voce esquece e logo outra aparece e voce nao tera mais sua alma para negociar...

entao vale a pena para te-la valentine...

tudo vale a pena se a alma for pequena para acomodar o sofrimento mister...

oh yeah dear...

mas que musica triste eh essa mister?...

espere ate 1:40 para ver como canta la tristesse quando inspirada pelo desencanto e pelo desamparo valentine...

que esperem por voce que tropecca mister... oh yeah dear...

mas nao abuse mister... nao queira tambem voce ter que se inspirar demais naqueles dois...

so mais uma vez valentine... duas no maximo mister... ou tres valentine...



mas voce so vive quando encontra um objeto de paixao valentine...

trate de encontrar um novo mister...

mas ainda o olhar de uma mulher valentine... o resto tanto faz...

que nao fiquem todas com medo de olhar para voce mister...

com medo de que voce se apaixone e nao as deixe mais em paz valentine...

pe no saco mister... mas quando for o caso voce pede para ela relaxar mister...

que voce iria mesmo querer gozar sobre ela ainda vestida de veus mas voce ja compreendeu que suas chances sao quasi-nulas mister...

desfalecer sobre ela valentine...

sorry mister...

mas entao voce pensa que voce ja foi um tanto mais agraciado por aquela dadiva valentine...

o olhar de uma mulher mister...

e que voce mal soube compreender e aproveitar valentine... god mister...

e entao voce pensa que em breve e talvez muito em breve voce ja tera que passar a viver sem ela...

viver mesmo sem ela mister... tendo mal aprendido a viver com valentine... god mister... oh yeah god...

que voce consiga se habituar a essa nova configuracao sem queimar seu velho processador mister...

diva do soft and hard core e o que mais valentine...

dadiva da diva da vida vaddia mister...

nao me venha com anagramas para embaralhar o meu amor-proprio valentine...

soh com a palavra amor eh mais facil mister... nao tem repeticcao mister mister...

oh yeah dear...

mas que fosse o amor aammoorr assim dobrado mister...

ou amor sem fim multiplicado valentine...



mas feliz aquele que so ve a beleza interior valentine...

whatever mister... talvez exista aquele caso exista a felicidade...

existe a felicidade se e somente se existe o amor valentine...

entao procure decidir se algum dos dois existe mister please...

por axioma talvez valentine...

termo indefinido mister...

so black and so and so valentine... sorry mister?...

so black and so sad and so tired valentine... sorry mister... (2012)

mas melhor contar ingenuamente com a afeicao e com o respeito e com a consideracao do outro (e etecetera mister...) do que descrer de tudo isso por descrer de si mesmo valentine...

mas aih entao voce vai construindo o seu mundo imaginario povoado por tantos outros que voce ama e ele vai ficando assim tao paradisiaco mister...

ate que de repente alguma coisa comecca a incomodar voce valentine...

voce compreende que no seu estupefaciente mundo imaginario seu papel bem poderah ser o papel de algum personagem secundario mister...

talvez nem mesmo presente no dia ou noite de estreia valentine...

nem marcante nem marcado, personagem excluido no meio do caminho e que nao aparecerah na versao final da historia mister...

the bitter end valentine...

did you finish your work mister... work in progress as always valentine... you just need to continue...

and so which would be the best way to continue now mister...

maybe finding the best way to kill yourself dear...

sorry mister...

but there is no better way anyway valentine...

because people would feel sorry for you for whatever reasons they could find to feel sorry...

and of course you don't want that mister...

of course not dear...

unless you hire some crazy guy to give you a shoot in your head in some strategically chosen street corner late at night and then hide the gun valentine... you would have to thrust him mister... he evilly could let the gun right there and also in the correct hand mister... oh yeah... but even so it would possible look as if some crazy husband was giving you his revenge valentine... at least you would keep your honour mister... oh yeah... and peolple would not think you had abandoned life because of some love delusion or any other failure of your character... but it must be so painful dear... better not... and the crazy guy could well end to open his mouth anyway mister... you better try to find some crazy husband first mister... I mean... you know... please don't worry dear... but that was fully arranged anyway valentine... oh yeah mister... oh yeah valentine...

but if you were as famous as hemingway for instance mister...

then the best way would not matter too much dear... you would be killing yourself because of love anyway but everyone would understand... because life is really not worth without love and a famous guy can say that in such a clear way without diminishing his "grandeur" dear... without being pointed as an unsuccessful failed guy... and the writer, as a man, and as every man, needs so much love in his life to continue his work... and mutatis mutantis of course mister... but then there is a lot of peolple that really don't mind with the public opinion and do the things by themselves mister... oh yeah dear... so sad...

and a lot of people keep killing their selves but not their bodies valentine... maybe everybody mister... and then they recover as someone else... with a little better self mister... who knows dear... the guy well could returne as a beast with a gun in your mouth valentine... and mutatis mutantis mister... oh yeah... you would prefer you to be putting a gun in his mouth anyway dear....

but then you open an account in orkut and then you kill your self there with all the so many friends you have got... collective suicide valentine... not really mister... they will be there so alive with or without you on line mister... oh yeah... but then you do the same with your facebook... and so on dear...

but facebook mister... if you don't have that map to guide you in the time line of love with its all so visible and subterranean paths as well then you are self and body dead mister... if your so beloved lady is there then you are crazily dead valentine... oh yeah... please keep at least that manly blog of yours mister... oh yeah... and please don't write your own letter mister... oh yeah...

and please do not return to facebook... oh yeahhhh....

at least do not return because of her mister...

oh yeah dear... you would not want to reborn there anyway... I mean...

but I was trying to forgeeet her valentine...

sorry mister... so sorrys till die...

but please try to get the password of someone else mister...

sorry dear...

but a woman knows so well how to diminish without limits a little man in love with her valentine...

on line and off line mister...

and also knows so well how to diminish some other woman when both are in love with the same guy...

some lucky man in dispute mister... on line and off line valentine...

but a man knows so well how to diminish himself before his so beloved lady and without limits as well mister...

I don't need examples dear...

and mutatis mutandis some other cases apply mister... oh yeah...

but anyway you would want to be able to find your dignity limit but it is so hard to find it mister...

oh yeah...

and so you keep diminishing indefinitely yourself more and more before your so beloved senhorina mister...

but what a fuck is dignity for you to find its limit dear...

what a indignity mister... god...

oh yeah god... but sometimes a girl you love so much looks at your eyes asking so clearly for your blessing and you give it to her immediately...

of course mister...

and then she decides almost immediatly as well to keep your blessing in her pocket and not to return hers... and also your so blessed what a fuck dignity will be sunk in her pocket as well valentine...

just saying dear...

just complaining mister...

but mutatis mutantis mister... don't explain, don't complain mister... after someone else dear...

but then so many words and so much pain because of something that occurs in some fraction of a second anyway mister...

olympic games dear...

erase and rewind mister...

oh no dear... not this time god...



but then you begin to appear in some place with some frequency and now you give your blessing to that place valentine... or your curse mister... oh yeah... but do you give your blessing or curse for whom exactly mister... for those who consider you as one of their kind of examples to be followed or rejected valentine... but the set of those can be empty mister... oh yeah... but then no one would had noticed you in any way and you are a completely anonimous dead man valentine... or woman mister... oh yeah dear sorry...

but what about the games mister... so many nice and not so nice games and strategies between boys and girls dear... I am talking about those olympic games mister... don't you think there is something wrong with all those boys and girls being trained for so many years to stretch themselves before the world as trained little monkeys mister... oh yeah dear... adult things... but later dear... because now you just need to find the best strategy to continue with your love things game valentine... love is not a game mister... just saying dear...

you better go to live for awhile mister... then you write the saga... oh yeah...

mas o que voce gostaria de fazer enquanto vivo mister... resumo da saga por favor...

apenas borrrar o battton dela valentine...

talvez seja melhor continuar a sonhar e continuar a escrever apenas sobre seus sonhos mister...

mas agora voce a ama e o que mister... vamos la... levante-se que o amor nao se cansa e logo deixa voce para tras...

mas agora voce a ama e agora voce so se deita e levanta por forcca de alguns poucos traccos da liquorosa esperanca que voce vem economizando como se fosse o ultimo frasco da unica pocao que ainda podera mante-lo vivo no coracao dela e nao apenas como petala de rosa ressecada perdida no fundo das gavetas valentine... pocao do amor mister... oh yeah senhorina... alguns poucos traccos da cor que a cor verde gostaria de ter sido ela propria mas nao conseguiu valentine... porque verde mister... would be her eyes mister... just saying dear... any red or blue would serve... but you prefer absinthe mister... oh yeah... or black as you are mister.... oh yeah...

mas agora voce a ama e voce nao chama ninguem mais para socorre-lo em seus pesadelos que nao o nome dela pois o seu medo agora eh so o medo de acabar por dissolver a outra metade do seu amor na ultima gota do abssinto que voce vinha reservando bem guardado para beber junto com ela aninhada em seu colo... you are such a dreamer mister... talvez voce tenha que pedir algum socorro no emporio de bebidas valentine...

e agora voce se lembra da menina que parecia rebelde mas apenas sonhava com o rebelde da motocicleta valentine... such a dreamer mister... mas ela era tambem rebelde la do jeito dela de menina... e de qualquer forma a rebeldia eh a armadura que veste o amor que nao se cansa e vai tambem querer salvar a princesa aprisionada na torre valentine... a princesa rebelde mister... oh yeah dear... god mister...

mas entao voce le e rele a paisagem diante de voce ate bem la no meio voce se encontrar valentine... como uma adaga bem la no meio dos seios dela e bem ali ao lado da sala de comando e adega de sangue destilado... e ja lavada do sangue impuro pelo leite que dos seios dela ja teria brotado comovido por ter sido ali o primeiro a ter brotado... shitmister.... oh yeah... but fix it later mister please...

das coxas aos seios e dos seios ao ceu valentine... seios de menina moca que ja cresceu mister... oh yeah...

e entao voce compreende um pouco mais de si mesmo valentine... voce nao eh muito mais do que um pequeno homem abenccoado pelo desejo de saber honrar o amor pela mulher e amaldiccoado pelo temor de nao saber como faze-lo... god mister... but now you have got that so profound insight about your little self just because of her don't you mister... she gave a little help dear... e entao agora voce eh apenas aquele poeta plebeu mal ajambrado que nao sabe como fazer e vai gozar apressadamente sobre a rainha ainda vestida de veus mister... melhor seria dizer desfalecer sobre a rainha valentine... sorry mister... but you should give her some satisfaction first mister... oh yeah....

but are you crazy man...

go to die in a monastery mister...

if you were to be there you would want to be there just to keep praying for her does not dare not to be happy valentine...

please don't dare not to be happy my so blessed senhorina...



e agora voce se lembra do seu primeiro amor de infancia valentine... pelo menos o primeiro do qual voce se recorda mister... sem contar aquela cantora de meia tres quartos mini-saia e peruca que aparecia na televisao valentine... e entao voce pensa que voce gostaria que tivesse sido ela ali no corredor da casa de sua mae brincando de casinha de bonecas com voce... per dio mister... um pouco antes de as maes chamarem para o almoco valentine... ela ainda vestindo a calca curta do pijaminha largo de algodao e sentada em quase posicao de lotus (sem saber) oferecendo a voce por alguns instantes e pela primeira vez a visao daquela fenda misteriosa que nao existia nas bonecas e que voce logo quis inspecionar valentine... va bene mister per dio... que tivesse sido ela ali naquele corredor mister... ou entao ela se escondendo de voce nos corredores do monasterio mister... oh yeah valentine...

and so you go to each place you know she could be mister...

except to the place you know she would really be valentine...

god mister...

mas como doeria valentine... just thinking dear...

que voce nao quer ser nem o cordeiro nem o lobo do amor dela... nem tao pouco o pastor valentine... voce quer ser o proprio amor dela sem qualquer carapuca mister... oh yeah dear... podia ter aproveitado essa para a sua serie de agora voce a ama mister... oh yeah... mas agora voce a ama e agora nao tem mais lobos nao tem cordeiros e tao pouco pastor no campo de mato alto misterioso que se estende diante de voce e so lhe resta caminhar por ali a procura de algum alimento enquanto ela propria nao aparece para devorar seu coracao e deixar o resto de voce para as hienas da noite...

night is just her mister god... oh yeah god...

what day is today valentine...

keep singing your blues mister...

there is no special day for love to come to make you a visit... keep singing your blues man...

but the thrill is gone in no way dear...

oh yeah mister...

saude valentine...

saude mister...

pela dura e limpa verdade...

e tambem pela mentira ingenua e fantasiosa mister...

saude pela verdade que voce a ama mister...

saude pela mentira que ela retribui o seu amor valentine...

oh yeah mister... sorry...



mas se essa mentira eh o que o acompanha pelas calcadas entao nao a perca de vista mister... oh yeah... e nao va querer ir la para se certificar do que quer que seja... melhor se fazer de cego ao lado da mentirinha mister... oh yeah dear...

but you would want to go there to put all your selves in any kind of thrill and risk and shame this time valentine... you would want to see the sun rise in her house after have taken it whatever way during the night... or any tower she could be mister... oh yeah...

or else this time you would need a shoot in the vein valentine... god mister... a shoot to put you in the window you would llke to be to see that happly sad sun rise dear... or sadly happy mister... go to die now... just let it go through the veins mister...



but what do you tell me about these cups of curd jelly mister... would you use them to toast with her mister... sorry dear... be calm mister sorry... breath three times mister... you could stop breathing as well dear... mas qualquer coisa serve para voce se acalmar quando voce decide se acalmar valentine... musica mister... oh yeah dear... que a musica nao eh instrumento do amor apenas valentine... nem da verdade apenas... a musica eh um instrumento afiado que vence qualquer parada mister... oh yeah... if you wanna find the truth in life don't pass music by dear... after some one else of course mister... oh yeah...



but now nothing compares to this song valentine... you are just a dreamy girl mister... but change boys for girls dear... or mutatis mutantis mister... it is a vein shoot anyway... if you want to sleeep mister... don't try to be a bad girl dear... if you want to sleep with her mister... oh yeah dear... because now you know the meaning of nothing compares valentine... com voces dois abracados naquele paraiso que seria o paraiso de alguma boa humanidade que estaria por vir em alguma era... mas a primeira ave ja estaria la aprendendo a cantar suave ao lado de voces dois para nunca mais deixar de cantar suave na primavera... god mister... but what is the real meaning of nothing compares mister... the same as love for now dear... the same as love...



because now nothing compares the sadness of toasting with the true with your honest hand and nothing compares the joy of lying to your self your lie with the other hand valentine... per dio mister... it should be the reverse... mutatis mutantis dear...

and so a new series mister... nothing compares per dio... but you should change this so sad mood for a while... you would not want to see her as sad as yourself mister... oh no... but please confess mister... you do like see girls crying as babes don't you mister...

por ora apenas nao queira voce parar de cantar valentine...

nao queira se calar...

nao queira voce parar de sorrir...

porque por ora voce ainda nao consegue escrever o paragrafo da felicidade mister... oh yeah...

it depends on the circunstances mister... oh yeah dear...

mas a imposicao de circunstancias desfavoraveis pode levar qualquer um a se acomodar na segura e tranqulizadora mediocridade de anseios valentine... o rapaz se emprega ali como tal e se aposenta dali como qual... e entao morre como tal qual mister... you took my words dear...

mas entao voce olha por olhar para o ceu e em qualquer cosmogonia que voce consegue imaginar voce se ve la prestes a ser punido por querer acumular gracas demais vindas do seu anseio de felicidade... punido pelos deuses mister... oh yeah... you better try to fix it mister... que pelo menos algum anjo do inferno esteja do seu lado mister... I've got some dark fellows... who knows dear... mas voce apenas deseja brindar a cerveja consigo mesmo pelo seu desejo de continuar a sempre querer brindar a alegria ou a infelicidade ou o que quer que seja valentine... don't lie mister... and I don't like it as well mister...

but you drink beer now because of the so many girls that drink beer now mister... oh yeah... and them because of the so many boys drinking beers before mister... oh yeah... and then because of so many boys and girls licking their tears even before to be brief mister... oh yeah... but fix it later dear... don't like it too much...

mas para a senhorina vinho nao eh mesmo mister... anything dear... it could be beer... irish of course mister... oh yeah dear... but it could be belgium.... e isso tudo por que agora voce a ama... e um brinde a infelicidade por que ela nunca sabera das dores do seu amor por ela... entao que seja diante da janela iluminada por aquela lua mister... que agora voce a ama e voce quer cultivar a senhorina primavera dentro de si mesmo e dela e nao so por algum tempo e nem so na primavera culminada de flores centeio e cevada e de cheiros dela nua em sua cama mister... after someone else valentine... but you took my words anyway... pelo menos ate enquanto houver emporios de bebida valentine... ou ate pelo menos enquanto houver poros transpirando algum alcool mister...

siiiiiiiiii... la senhoriiiiiina.. vini quiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...

per dio mister...

e voce vai la se apresentar como mais um escravo aas ordens dela valentine... e ela manda voce ficar la cravado e nao se atrever a olhar mais para ela mister... e segurando um cravo na mao mister... porque cravo valentine...

go to erase this slave self mister...

and this time take some time to count how many selves remain for you...

please don't mind dear...

you can survive without any anyway don't you mister...

oh yeah dear...

but drink daily a cup of milk at least...

oh yeah valentine...

mas agora voce a ama e agora so lhe resta brincar com palavras mister... just playing with words mister... don't know dear... please erase... if you don't know then let it go mister... oh yeah... after someone else maybe... oh yeah senhorina... mas no domingo ela eh sua e na quarta feira suas cinzas sao despejadas na beira de algum rio e nao sobre o colchao do quarto dela para voce renascer mais uma e desta vez a ultima que suas maos levantadas ja tangeriam a ultima esfera que recobre o ceu valentine... ninguem tange o ceu mister god... mas que pelo menos algumas petalas de rosa acompanhem suas cinzas pela correnteza como canoinhas em procissao no ganges mister... so cute dear...

mas supondo que exista aquele alguem a quem voce mais ame e tambem supondo que voce o encontre quais seriam os seus planos concretos e sonhos a respeito desse feliz achado mister... what does it mean planos concretos dear... mas entao quanto aos sonhos mister... que esse alguem ja fosse seu e que esse alguem so fosse ela nao eh mesmo mister... oh yeah per dio... que ela ja fosse inteira propriedade sua valentine... e tambem seriam suas as palavras dela mister... e nao apenas roubadas do blog dela como agora... oh yeah... mas ja li isso antes mister... miseria de palavras valentine... eh preciso ir ate o subterraneo para encontra-las... cuidado para nao enfiar a cabeca em algum buraco negro dessa caverna e depois nao conseguir mais tirar mister... oh yeah... talvez com alguma ajuda dela empurrando com forca com as duas maos por ja nao estar tambem aguentando mais a falta de ar valentine... oh yeah mister... nesse caso eu tambem colocaria a cabeca la... oh yeah dear... e depois um grande suspiro... e depois o nome dela pronunciado vagarosamente valentine... senhorina mister... oh yeah...

mas entao aquele episodio infeliz faz parte da historia do seu passado mas voce ainda nao consegue jogar o trocco no lixo valentine... melhor reciclar um pouco mais mister... talvez ainda reste o suficiente para um bolo de cascas... sem adicao de accucar valentine... sorry mister... oh yeah dear..

e a patina da soleira da porta tao desgastada mister...

muito entra e sai valentine...

e tambem muito de voce ali parado espremendo os dedos dos pes no solado de borracha enquanto tenta decidir se entra ou se sai novamente para novamente tentar ve-la de longe de alguma fresta de esquina mister... sorry mister... oh yeah... mas o amor aproveita mesmo qualquer fresta ou escada para chegar onde quer mister... oh yeah dear... mas procure nao tentar usar alguem como escada para chegar ate ela mister...

mas agora voce a ama e agora todos poderao servir de escada para esse amor valentine...

moeda corrente mister... manuel flores vai morrer valentine...

e ai voce decide sair para dar uma cusparada geral e escolhe uma esquina adequadamente movimentada por pedestres e automoveis para se postar la ereto com um copo de cerveja e um cigarro aceso em uma das maos e uma xicara melada de cafe expresso na outra...

mas o que seria movimento adequado mister...

com muita gente se perguntando porque o sujeito la na esquina nao esta fazendo nada bem ali no meio daquela tarde de terca feira de feira com todo o restante fazendo o que se espera que todos facam valentine...

as tres e trinta e sete da tarde mais precisamente e tarde bem iluminada valentine...

instigando um pouco a revolta para quem sabe a revolucao dos acomodados mister... oh yeah..

o descarado esta convivendo muito bem com o oprimido acomodado valentine...

mas nenhuma revolucao vai libertar o ser humano de sua condicao de ser humano mister...

as vezes mesmo revoltante valentine...

are those her words also mister... oh no dear...

she is not a human been really...

god mister...

goddess valentine... goddess... god mister...

mas as mulheres sempre se fizeram de dificeis com voce mister... dont know dear... voce nunca as fez de faceis mister... dont know dear... please go erase also this self of yours mister... no way dear... mas nunca de faceis mister... who knows dear... who knows really...

e entao voce tracca com giz a letra L na lousa valentine.... para comecar um novo Lamento Apaixonado mister... oh yeah... pelo menos a lousa eh grande and so you can wildly blow your job mister... I mean... you know mister... oh yeah dear... mas giz ou cinzel de pedra mister...



por que o amor valentine...

o amor senhorina...

e as vezes voce aproveita a serie de desencantos de um outro qualquer para falar do seu proprio amor valentine...

sao seus desencantos tambem mister...

try to find your own words mister please...

but love will tear us apart anyway valentine...



mas como se chamaria a novela... talvez senhorina mister... maybe dear...

senhorina que ama e eh amada em proporcao bem maior que a razao amada amante valentine... maior que o razoavel mister... please erase this shit mister...

que ela resolva tambem acompanha-lo com o amor que lhe couber a partir de agora e ate o fim da novela mister... se lhe couber algum mister... sorry...

por que voce eh mesmo apenas esse pequeno homem que deseja transformar esse seu amor escrito em algo vivo e brilhante como um sorriso dela mister...

oh yeah valentine...

e os seus pes deixam marcas no caminho mister...

o caminho deixa marcas nos seus pes valentine...

e marcante ou marcado voce logo morre conforme o combinado mister...

marcante e\ou marcado ou nada disso mas ainda assim conforme o combinado valentine...

leia aquele papel sobre a mesa querida...

que ela o aceite com muita alegria ou o recuse com alguma tristeza mister... oh yeah...

mas se hoje ate a xicara de cafe voce segura com as duas maos deferente para receber o calor mister...

como seria se fosse em suas maos o coracao dela... talvez chopp gelado mister... sorry...

mas essa conversa nunca termina valentine...

mas deve terminar com um ultimo ate mais desenganado mister...

desenganado ou nao valentine... oh yeah mister...

mas em suas maos o coracao dela valentine...

mais uma serie mister... god...

gooooddess valentine...

um bom bocado de exaltacao e raiva mister... exaltacao apenas valentine... se parece raiva eh porque se quer ressaltar muito bem o que se fala... para que o outro nao deixe passar o trocco apenas como uma enxurrada de palavras sem significado... enxurrada de calcada carregando alguns troccos mister... palitos de sorvete e potes de danoninho dear... barquinhos a vela mister... oh yeah dear... oh yeah...

mas aqui voce so tem chocolate amargo e cachaca ao inves de bombons de licor ou algum bom bocado ao gosto dela... algum socorro no emporio de bebidas valentine... mas apenas se chegar a ocasiao mister... que ja consigo engolir sua cachaca... mas prefiro o chocolate ao leite... oh yeah dear sorry...

e tudo so porque agora mister...

so porque agora eh so o que voce quer e quer agora valentine...

so porque agora voce quer agora e antes do combinado mister... oh yeah...

oh yeah senhorina...

but right now you just need to steal some placebo of someone else... you just need it as well valentine...

but you would not want any protection do you mister...

of course not dear...

you would prefer to keep wanting whatever you do want don't you mister...

oh yeah dear...

can you see your body there mister...

at least my mind dear...



e estas fotografias mister...

que todos continuem a sorrir sempre assim valentine...

mas esse ai ja morreu...

you are none of those are you mister...

I am this angry drunk truthful liar kid valentine...

she would not like to see you robing her words mister...

she would understand dear...

ma ora per dio valentine... tu sei fan di quella banda... non capisce per dio...

questo amore finisce per essere involontario mister... after someone else dear...

ma ogni amore eh involontario per dio alice bambina...

purtroppo hai ragione mister...

mas queira representar mais alguns papeis e nao so o papel de louco mister...

o de louco ja eh suficientemente complexo valentine...

e na pior hipotese voce vai para o hospital e nao para a cadeia mister...

oh yeah... you took my words dear...

tentei chorar mas nao consegui mister... after someone else dear...

mas sempre conseguimos chorar a nossa dor no quarto fechado valentine...

mas que seja limpinho mister...

o quarto em que voce chora a sua dor eh sempre limpo e sagrado valentine.... oh yeah mister sorry...

mas tambem nenhuma cama se suja se sobre ela repousa a felicidade mister... oh yeah...

mas as vezes o odio retorna para encharcar de suor o lencol valentine...

quando voce se recorda dos anos de prisao cerceado pela estupidez mister... oh yeah dear...

adult things... mas tambem por sua propria e nao so pela estupidez do outro valentine...

mas voce ainda nao se livrou da sua mister... try to fix it later please... mas eu sempre o perdoei de qualquer maneira mister... so sorry dear...

mas agora voce a ama and nothing compares... vamos la que agora chove mister... nothing compares now rhymes with plain despair for you not have finding yet a world where you both could be so very well accommodated as a pair in love valentine...

a verdade nao deixa a felicidade em paz mister... oh yeah...

uma vem da sobriedade e a outra vem da embriaguez valentine...

god mister... could it be the reverse mister...

mas que o barman nao se deixe embriagar demais pelos talentos que ele possa vir a ter valentine...

e que nem ela se deixe embriagar demais pelos talentos do rapaz mister... sorry mister...



e entao voce nota que os gritos quase estampidos de canhao que voce solta vez ou outra durante a madrugada se parecem com os gritos quase ininterruptos do rapaz quase acefalo da casa vizinha que fica sentado no chao balanccando o tronco para frente e para traz...

talvez tambem bebado apaixonado mister...

oh yeah dear... so sad senhorina...

recover yourself mister... say you love her three times... but don't need to be aloud mister...

three times babe... but don't repeat too much...

use as palavras mas sem desgastar mister... bom guarda-las um pouco... quem sabe nao aparece uma nova roupagem com o tempo...

e que reste em seu guarda roupa algo novo para ser usado no dia que virah mister...

ou ja nesta noite que se aproxima valentine...

que o dia nunca virah...

que venha pelo menos o ultimo ate mais desenganado mister...

desenganado ou nao valentine...

mas voce gostaria de estar indo tarde mas rindo por se ver finalmente livre valentine...

mas so da mesmo para ir tarde mister...

tarde e desacompanhado de qualquer consolo valentine...

nao queira usar o dela mister... sorry mister... so sorrys till die...

que pelo menos voce tenha sido uma escada para ela... procure se consolar com esta outra ilusao mister...

in no way valentine...

ou entao que pelo menos voce tenha sido um buraco enlameado do qual ela conseguiu se livrar sem sujar muito a bota mister...

oh yeah dear... now it could be...

mas que as mulheres possam sempre guardar bem guardadas as suas graccas para quem elas bem entenderem mister...

of course dear... of course...

e que cada uma se console com o seu consolo valentine...

mutatis mutantis cada um com o seu mister...

of course dear...

mas agora voce ja pode olhar e beijar outra mister...

and you please stand in line for this valentine...

are you going to go back in the time line mister...

why not dear... why not...

but please do not try to return to her mister... she never was in your time line indeed...

oh yeah dear...

you never have been in hers better to say mister...

oh yeah valentine... ssssshit...

from love to hate mister...

so easy to go valentine...

mas so depois que voce compreende que voce ja passou a ser odiado...

e justamente por causa de sua presuncao de amor reciproco mister...

oh yeah dear...

e que ela entao realmente o odeie para que um amor nao seja desperdiccado mister...

oh yeah... que ela realmente odeie valentine...

e que ela nao venha lhe dizer meu caro para lhe dar alguma licao mister...

que ela apenas odeie quieta valentine... e voce tambem mister por favor... oh yeah sorry...

mas ainda assim voce iria querer sorrir para ela mister...

do amor rapidamente para o odio e do odio rapidamente para algum balancco que possa ser suportado por seu coracao valentine...

it should be this way mister... but you better erase and rewind now...

oh yeah senhorina... oh yeah...

because now you just need to continue valentine... but you need to keep the ilusion in your heart anyway... and so you go out again at the end of the day... but the sun could make you blind yet... and then you see out there first some colored ballons in the air... some ballon championship festival... and then you see everywhere the town all those people looking at the ballons and taking pictures and all that shit... so nice... so cute... you really don't like very much the sun valentine... and you will have to burn some more gas to find a place without so much ballon admires to burn some more grass and get your own airy trip... but the image of the baloons well could inspire some poetic sensible image in some sensible poetic mind valentine... and then you begin to think you almost have got a definition for your self... you are not a poet valentine... neither a cursed poet... you are a little man cursed by the desire of beeing a cursed poet... and then all you have to do now is to get a good definition for a poem mister... good... so good... and to get a way of being cursed as welll...

but what is a poem alice please... so good valentine...

you fear you would have to consider the term "poem" a completely indefinite term forever...

but at least on curses you think you know enough mister... do you mister...

and then for a while you keep the ilusion that you forgot her... but just for a while valentine... but the time was enough for you to take a look at the night program in some somewhat distante neighbourhood of hers... to look for some populated night music event where you could immerse yourself with some pleasure... and some illusion of course valentine... sorry... but you need some to live... and then you see there foo figthers cover... what a fuck... but you would well want to go there why not if she was also to be there for you continuing to keep the illusion... god mister... but you know she will not be there and so you will not be there... you have forgot her for a while and just for a while valentine... but you will try so carefully to not being in some place she well could be at night... at least not in the period she could be there... so wrong moves you have done... foo fighters cover valentine....who knows anyway... because you must keep the illusion... and you have got a bottle of tequila... and you are so pretty vacant anyway...

but you just can not take a look at some woman eyes you love for whatever reasons and go away when her eyes don't ask clearly for you to go valentine... oh no... you just can't... and sometimes you begin to believe you have got clear signals in both directions... some showing she wants you maybe to go and some showing she wants you maybe to stay... then you go really crazy man...

and then you begin to think that it is so hard to be free...

should I stay or should I go valentine... god...

you should go live by the river mister... oh yeah...



and yeah I am drunk but please don't complain because it is because of you valentine... please don't complain... and then you are in some gls place valentine... because love has to be said but you also want so much to be loved... and there you believe you would have more chances of being loved by some kind of human being of course mister... some kind human being and yes of course dear... but I am not talking about solo di l'orientamento sessuale valentine... but it is so good when any two directions can make some arrangement anyway... two at least mister... oh yeah...

and then you come back home by dawn and you are almost happy... you almost want to thanks god for having surpassed one more night without causing her any big problem... and because just night matters in your counting of the days... you love her so much and night is just her self and body valentine... night is just her writting in her blog while smoking a cigarrete or kissing some one else some where you don't know where... and you are almost happy but it looks that you will never fix your sanity again... but you will fix it later valentine... you hope so anyway... but you really don't mind now...

because now if she does not accept you as a man then you can not consider yourself a man valentine...

it is just like that...

but I am not talking about solo di l'orientamento sessuale valentine...

and then your not enough crazy psichiatra says for you with the veemenza appropriato per un bambino that you should take your sleep pills at 11:00 pm... so nice... so cute... god... he thinks he is less stupid than you... but you will in some way listen his recomendation... you will go to take your pills at 11:00 am anyway... il vitellone mister... oh yeah god...

but give me your reasons to live valentine....

you could give yours so easily and they would just be the same as yours for you to die mister...

after some one else maybe valentine... but you took my words anyway....

but now doors will be easily opened and closed to you... you are driving back home and your car's door will eassily open and close behind you and your home's door will easily open and close behind you... oh yeah... and you just hate yourself... and the door of your car is shit broken and does not open so easily... and you just love her so much but love is a so odd relation valentine... but dawn came so silently anyway... you would like so much to believe in its so cold light to give you some enough cold reason to live... oh yeah... because being crazy or not you love her so much and nothing in the world could change it... agora este samba para voce valentine... and your girl friend maybe...



and so you can not live at the same time without her and without your addctions valentine... but your so very most strong addiction was to write her a letter... because your life was just the rest... your life was just your letters where you and her are so very happpy together... and you can not write her a letter anymore valentine... where to go now...

are you crazy man... oh yeah...

and now you would want to go right there to her place during the period she would be there so present as the kind sweet jezebel on her throne... and you would want to show yourself as a completely denuded motherless child lost in that tattoed crowd and you would want to find her tattoed legs and arms and hands to guide you outside and to give you some attention and understanding and some colored gas ballons for you to play and to be carried as the little prince being carried by colored birds through the sky... but she would get you a pen instead and let you alone there and so you would be there silently crying and writing some more words to her in some peace of paper... you would want to talk to her about her colored tattos and then you would begin to think on colours valentine...

woman is not black senhorina... woman is white and all the so infinite grade of colours is there for you to paint your blackness...

but you would keep the words in your pocket valentine... she had left the room as a magic being followed by some of her slaves and you had not had the chance... but at least she trusted you enough anyway... you could take care of yourself alone in her place... and she was a suicide girl and so more rad than vegan valentine... so more rad... you know... and you would want so much to suicide your self to merge then in her rad rebelion... but you really would want to be there as the only guardian and protector as well of her so crowded castle... she could hire you as her bodyguard mister.... oh yeah... but you would be so happy anyway because you would have got your illusion again and that was just the most important thing in your life valentine... but later valentine... later...

because now you are so drunk...

and you would want to take a sleep right there in the gutter to be then awakened by her...

and so you need some earl grey tea to accompany you till dawn...

because now you had begun to believe in the cold light of morning anyway...

and the tequila bottle is empity anyway valentine...

and so you would want to write her a letter in some language you dont 't know so well valentine... and you would want to find the words in that language to describe each of your atoms occupying each of her spaces... no grain but atoms now and some bilions of thousands of years valentine... and you would form togethert with her the so very most solid material to compose the so very most sacred solid statue in the honour of love... because yours alone was the so very most sacred and the so very most solid as well valentine...

e esse samba eh para voce oh meu amor... 700 cc pisco sour... what does it mean...

but earl grey valentine... oh yeah mister... for you to swallow your pills... but you should do yourself a favor and go to die right now in your bed... because right now you are finally a kind of happy mister... let me be a kind of that just for a while valentine please... and also please let me sleeep for some enough number of hours valentine...

but you please be prepared to stand in line mister...

because love is a so odd relation you know...

but then you begin to think that so many other guy eyes would also serve for yourself... oh yeah... and sometimes you feel as much sad alone and tired as that call boy you just saw out there in the street valentine... he wants so much freedom... but now I suppose you don't known this musician guy... not the call boy valentine... I mean... you know... mas esse rapaz so termina de tocar seu instrumento quando voce ja esta inteiramente convencido de que ele a ama valentine... e voce tambem sente que todo o seu amor tambem ja foi dito... e voce tem vontade de chorar...

por que se o seu amor nao puder ser todo ele dito para ela entao que voce nunca mais pare de chorar e que nunca mais termine essa cancao de amor valentine...

god mister...



and so also these guys valentine...

their eyes would serve...

they would play forever as well...



mas diante dela voce nao diria que voce eh o homem mais feliz da face da terra valentine...

por que diante dela voce iria querer ser apenas o unico homem na face da terra para guia-la e protege-la and so your happiness would be the unique one to be counted anyway... e ela ja seria a unica mulher de toda e qualquer maneira e voce nao teria muito trabalho... god mister...

e voce nao teria se apequenado diante dela com seu choro valentine... porque voce iria mesmo querer chorar mister... desta vez o seu choro mais sagrado valentine... god mister... oh yeah god... seu choro o mais sagrado mas nao o mais incomum ou raro como queira valentine... in no way rare better to say... porque seria tambem o seu choro cotidiano ao cotidianamente pensar que nunca chegaria aquele momento em que ela estaria tambem feliz diante de voce...

mas diante dela seu choro seria tambem o seu choro mais jubiloso valentine... jubiloso mister... god...

porque se seus olhos cheios de lagrimas e suas palavras mais sentidas nao tivessem sido feitos para ela entao voce ja deveria estar morto como um ninguem quaqluer em um terreno abandonado no meio do nada valentine...

some crazily dead lonely nobody devoured by lions in some wild lost forest...

por que com ela iria a heranca da humanidade e tao bem junto com ela deveria ir tambem o seu amor...

por que com ela o seu amor ja seria o amor depurado de toda a tristeza e ja estaria pronto para ser levado adiante valentine...

god mister... oh yeah god...

mas pelo respeito a mulher voce nao iria querer procriar valentine... perdoe-me a grosseria valentine...

voce iria preferir ficar junto com ela para sempre e para sempre voces dois abracados naquele paraiso que voce teria comecado a figurar tao de repente diante de si e que nao teria sido feito so para voces dois mas tambem para tantos escravos que nao saberiam de sua escravidao e que estariam guardados como pequenas saudades em seu bolso do peito e nao haveria assim mais vertebras a serem quebradas mas apenas aquelas plasticas saudades and they would be there in her pocket forever and they would be let to go walk once in a while to stretch their legs over some of her so as well plastic but colored tatouages valentine...

god mister... but I will fix it later valentine...

mas o tempo que faltaria para voce esquece-la seria o tempo que faltaria para o seu atestado de morbidez bem morbida valentine... oh yeah... and now your glasses are messed with your tears mister... and the smoke has been so grunge valentine... you should try not to stop but keep walking at easy mister... oh yeah... you woud not want to have more some delusion from your heart while now embracing her in that so paradisiac paradise of you both would you... oh no... so many here... and so tired as well...

so tired of being so afraid of being so happy but just for a while valentine... no more longer than the next weekend to come.. so tired...

please be calm mister... just be calm..

what day is today valentine...

please don't mind mister... you have the entire week to be so sadly happy... oh yeah...

but you just can't go to die right now... not before taking a look in her blog again valentine... god... oh yeah god... and now you would like so much to write directly in her blog the message you would like to read as hers from you... oh yeah valentine... because you would not want to be waiting for her finally favored words for you forever anyway... and you should go on by yourself anyway... go yourself to die mister please... in your bed please...

and so you finally begin to dream for awhile valentine...

la senhorina vini qui.... sii ... la senhorina... vini presto... piu presto per favore... yo tengo unas palabras per lhe dire... presto senhorina...

porque hoje todos os hojes ja vao se acumulando em algo petreo e que nao se altera muito mais com a poeira ainda a ser depositada e de onde ja se pode ver todo o futuro restante e todo o futuro restante ja eh aquilo que voce deseja para si...

si senhorina... rapida... vini presto... how could you not drink valentine god... oy yeah mister sorry... I am so sorry as well valentine coz you are the woman for me to vomit all my sadnees and despair... sorry valentine... so sorry... but I will fix it later valentine...

but it is so simple valentine... you want to enter in her house because you really want to leave then her house feeling as if blessed by all gods and you would like so much to give a talk with all the gods gathered together in some bar then... to have been cleared some details on your self... and so which more bless do you need mister... please don't lie mister... you want to evilly go die in her house forever and never go out really... oh yeah... at least no to see the sun anymore coz her eyes would be so enough valentine...

because now if your eyes and your words were not made for her then you are dead man...

and so you are neither a poet neither a cursed poet neither a little man cursed by the desire of beeing a cursed poet... you are jus that dead man who loves her so much and wants to see her happy by your side mister... oh yeah... go to sleep for a while please... but I think I need first some catarse valentine... with a little help of some pretty vacant friends as well... catarse mister... va se catar valentine... oh yeah.... god mister... so sorry... so sorry we say together now valentine... but from now on I will be counting so sorrys to sleep... so sorrys for loving her so much... so sorry god... would be better to count so sorry gods valentine... oh yeah... and not till sleep but for some of those bilion years mister... oh yeah...



and so you can't look to any other woman eyes with desire of love valentine... you don't like to show yourself as a shy guy but you just can't... because you feel you would be cheating on her...

she is not yours mister god... oh yeah...

but she is yours in your mind and she is inside your mind since ever valentine... so she would be able to notice if you were to open your eyes to try to find something else that could be missing to you... but you would be couting so sorrys till sleep anyway...

and so you go outside to burn some grass... you go out to see night again valentine... and all that you know about poets for now is that poets can die from love delusion mister... at least you feel yourself so ready to die from that disease valentine... oh yeah... but please do not consider yourself a poet because of that mister... oh yeah valentine... you took my words... you took my words dear... so so sad here... so tired.... sorry mister...

so tired of trying to find some space in the space of some one else valentine... laws of physics and metaphysics... parking your car for example mister... oh yeah valentine... but for now let me just say as a somewhat more romantic example that you are so tired of try to occupy the space of her heart valentine... keep traveling correctly and carefully through the arteries mister... oh yeah... you don't want to see yourself blocked in the way or worst than that cause her some leg congestion problem... oh no... you would want to ask her to thrust in your drive dear... you are just a habilitationless child mister... at least park your car in the right place this time please... you don't want to be removed again do you... not this time valentine... not this time...

because you love her and you dont say so much this time because love this time has been showed itself in its entire grandiosity valentine... oh yeah... so tired...

and so you don't need to continue to go anywhere anymore....

and if your eyes and words were not made for her then you would not need to continue anymore as well...

but now you would want to look at her eyes forever and there would be no words to talk in the future to distract your stare valentine...

and dio come ti amo would be your last words before your infinite stare mister... oh yeah...

and come to die in my bed would be the words you would want to write in her blog as if from hers to you would not that be mister... oh yeah dear... so go die in your bed mister please... but now I am quite convinced you love her so much anyway... oh yeah dear finally...

but are you crazy man...

and now you would want not even look at her eyes again because of the fear of finding delusion also in her eyes this time and this time for all valentine... god mister stop crying...

you would rather prefer to stare all the cursed evil in the eyes of jezebel than to stare the empityness of love in her eyes valentine... ok mister dear... come to die in my bed... ok... you won my womb for now... ok... but then you will go to die in your bed per dio... non piangere piu mister... un bene cosi caro un bene cosi vero per dio... per dio digo io valentine...



porque o amor tem que ser dito e nao se pode querer contentar a mulher com pouco...

porque quando a mulher se contenta com pouco a civilizacao decai valentine...

mas tao frequentemente o homem obriga a mulher aa piedade mister...

ooh yeah... tao frequentemente...

mas claro que nao estou dizendo que a mulher eh a civilizacao e o homem eh a barbarie dear...

que o homem e a mulher estao de maos dadas patinando na pista infinita entre esses dois extremos e nenhum deles quer escorregar com o amor nas maos mas sim mante-lo (aceso na tocha mister)... e se um deles escorregar o outro devera ajuda-lo com passos mais lentos e cravando seus patins na pedra de gelo (mas rocha mister)...

but you don't like so much olympic games as well dear...

mas voce a ama e agora os passos dela demarcam em torno de voce o seu afinal paraiso como pegadas da primeira mulher no basalto duro caminhando sobre sua primeira e unica moradia e que nao se apagarao nem apos a partida do ultimo homem e da ultima mulher que terao vivido nele de emprestimo um dia... but I fix it later valentine... so sad... so many... so tired... so black...

but now you begin to believe you finally understand one of the obligations of a poet valentine... a poet has to return to woman as beautifully as his own grandeur as a poet all the love he has been seeing in her eyes since his childhood... don't know mister... not so bad to begin but... grandeur mister... oh yeah... but which does come first... the grandeur of a poet or his graceful talk... please try to clear that mister... I fix it later valentine... mas continuando... o amor...

o amor que ele viu nos olhos da mulher desde sua infancia e que ele nao soube como retribuir mas soube como guardar valentine... go to die mister... you have the entire week to be so sadly happy... or happly sad as you prefer... e que agora quer tanto transbordar valentine... god mister...

mas voce a ama e agora todas as feridas do passado nao passam de pequenas cicatrizes riscadas a faca que voce foi colecionando durante o seu aprendizado do amor e agora voce ja eh um gladiador pronto para matar a desesperanca dentro de si ou entao pronto para morrer ainda assim honrado olhando nos olhos de quem se mostrou mais forte e o derrubou no chao valentine... go to die mister...

go to die in a monastery... oh yeah... but you would not like the diet there so much valentine... you would want also some tobbaco and alchol and hard chesse to complement the dayly bread and soup... and the shepherd would have to keep an eye on you for you not to stray some sheep mister... sorry mister... non piangere piu... stop right now per dio...

oh yeah dear... right now...

but right now before and after you have been asking yourself what she would be seeing listening smelling touching and eating right now without thinking for a second on sharing none of these with you valentine...

and you have been saving half of everything for her and so you are so hungry of everything now mister... oh yeah...

need some music here... some infinite raga for my fasting valentine... but just your half is enough for now mister per dio... let hers for her... oh yeah... you take your half of your bene cosi caro and your half of your bene cosi vero and let hers for her per dio... per dio digo io mister...



but where why what who how when valentine....

all that I know is that she is not here right now and this fits well with where mister... and I don't know why... but take a look at the television set... who knows... keep changing the channels... god dear... but how do we change the channel in this shit... it is impossible to change the channel valentine... and you just want to know when don't you mister mister... oh yeah... you won the game dear...

but then you begin to think that every man in love - and so every man in potency valentine - is a romantic poet in potency... because he pass so much time thinking on his so beloved lady and so many words pass on his mind that well could be that some of them could decide to arrange for themselves to compose some so clearly crystaline figure... but I am not saying that words can decide for themselves valentine... because words are atoms and atoms don't now nothing about anything and neither on themselves... and sometimes some of the most rare of those crystaline figures turn to be sadly cracked... but then sometimes they become even more rare... com aquela trinca tao tristemente profunda... but words are atoms or molecules mister... it depends valentine... so cute dear...

but words and images now valentine... dot to say dot and you see the image of a single dot so clearly in your mind... but now love to say love and you see what valentine... you see just half of it mister... because you have been saving the other half for her... oh yeah dear... but the things are not so simple with the dot as well... because you fear so much to find some single final dot dont you mister...

you would want to use a final dot just to say you love her.

But just for this time valentine... this time for all mister... oh yeah dear... this time for all...

because you don't like to use a single dot too much valentine... resembles too much some in definitive blocked or terminal path... and three dots together represent that neverending love song don't they mister... oh yeah dear... you took my words... and not to say the shit capitals valentine...

mas voce a ama e agora o que mister... mais uma vez por favor... voce a ama e agora voce quer guardar as duas metades com voce para que ela nao se canse carregando a outra metade do seu amor... agora ela pode sempre deixa-la por ai sem preocupacao pois voce estara tomando conta por ela e para ela caso ela venha a procura-la algum dia... por sabe-se la que motivo mister.... sorry mister... oh yeah... mas nao va se descuidar mister... oh no dear... not this time... because this time you love her.

Oh yeah mister... just a child... oh yeah...

mas voce a ama e agora voce ja se ve transformado em uma nuvem lustrada de chumbo prestes a inundar nao o triste deserto nao o terreno baldio nao ruas nem calcadas nem a orla do mar desprotegida mas somente aquele canto de terra fertil e relva esplendorosa que terah presenciado seu esforco de carregar um oceano de chumbo ate em cima no ceu para so dela poder cuidar e se mostrarah entao ainda mais esplendorosa por bondosa gratidao de relva esplendorosa deixando nela tambem brotar ervas daninhas e lirios da cor amarela...

que seriam recolhidos por voce em bouquets que seriam novamente por voce pousados sobre aquela relva ainda mais esplendorosa para assim orna-la ainda mais ate o infinito do esplendor e para que voce pudesse entao oferecer esse infinito esplendoroso para ornar o quarto dela... god mister... oh yeah... but please fix it later dear... impossible to fix mister... mas va ate a secao de cama mesa e banho mister...

mas qual eh a palavra mais bonita valentine... spring or primavera... que venha logo a primavera em qualquer lingua e estacao de radio mister... oh yeah... you are so smart dear...

e qual eh a relacao entre a musica e o amor valentine.... a musica que lhe agrada e a mulher que voce ama... a musica eh uma aliada do amor quando os dois querem ouvir juntos com a mesma atencao aquela mesma musica que agrada tanto a ambos e que declara repetidamente o amor e mais uma vez e mais um vez mister... oh yeah...

but you love her and now please go on mister... mas voce a ama e agora jose... mister mister... just a child...

mas voce a ama e agora a palavra jubiloso sai de sua boca sem qualquer vergonha porque agora voce compreende o seu significado... too short mister... she would doubt of your love this way... mas entao tambem a palavra esplendor valentine... e o que dizer de relva esplendorosa... e tambem da palavra primavera... ok mister... ok... e ainda a palavra lindo que voce utiliza agora pela primeira vez em lingua nativa ou outra qualquer para qualificar o seu amor... o amor mais lindo mister... nao existe o amor mais lindo valentine... por que nao se pode comparar nem o amor lindo de cada um em cada tempo... o seu amor eh lindo e basta... quando ele realmente for mister... oh yeah... but this time you love her. I dont like capitals as well mister please... but lindo is beatiful anyway dear...

e se a dadiva for muito grande mister... voce a aceita e procura retribuir... e tenta perdoar o infeliz ofertante da ma-feh... kindness and tolerance... after saramago mister... oh yeah...

e amor e arte entao mister... depois valentine... mas por ora o amor vem primeiro e depois os dois quase se confundem... que o amor so consegue falar plenamente de si com a ajuda da arte valentine... e o artista ama o artista mister... oh yeah... e a arte eh o instrumento do amor mister... oh yeah... and then from nothing you ask yourself which could be the repertory of the musician guy her friend and if he would be able to play the flamenco guitar instead the electric bass... the guy does not work at alll valentine... you could hire him for a serenade mister... no way dear... he would play his own love for her... and you would want to play solo your serenade anyway valentine... you would sing for her don't cry... because you have been crying enough for both... and because you would want to see her smile instead... don't lie mister... you would want to see her unlock her mouth and cry till dead... oh yeah dear... oh yeah... because only her tears... only hers... only hers not yours mister please...

but then you go to read her blog again and you feel so afraid valentine... god mister... because you begin to believe you are there again... witch jezebel... god mister...

you barely gave a kiss in her brow and she wants to breathe already... she wants to breathe... she is so tired of your omnipresence... you have done so wrong moves...

I told you to not overact mister... go to die... so sorrys till die... take a breath mister... don't sigh please...

mas voce poderia guardar o seu desejo para voce com um suspiro valentine... mas nao o seu amor que ja foi dado... em um retrato em branco e preto valentine...

precisa ainda ser colorido mister... oh yeah...

e a palavra querida valentine... querida senhorina... don't know mister... but don't use it too much... querida senhorina... last time promisse dear...

and so the life goes on... you get some popularity at least with your mother hopefully and then you overreact or someone in the crowd points his finger in your direction for whatever reason he can find to blame you and then you lose it... and the things you are doing as you understand them can be so diferently understood by the other guy who pointed you his finger... then you can not let holes and so you need to find the right way to do things... but what a fuck is the right way to do things valentine... hopefuly yours mister... it depends valentine... it depends on your talents mister... oh yeah... but then you could rob her mister... oh yeah... voce entra no cercado dela e grita bem alto assalto... alto e grosso valentine... frightening mister... e depois de todos ja terem olhado para voce assustados voce da a ordem mister.... senhorina vini qui... siiii... la senhoriiiina... and you please calm down sweet... calm down please... so sorry... some girl would have vomit because of the fear... so sorry... that would not be the right think to be done mister... why not dear... why not... porque hoje todos os hojes nao passam de sofrimento por nao poder te-la hoje em seus bracos valentine... take care with suffering as well mister... do not abuse... oh yeah dear... and when you really overact mister... tell me more about that... god dear... you better go to die for a while then valentine... from three months to three years mister... oh yeah... but later dear...

and now what about the word divine valentine... don't know as well mister... you please try to understand its meaning but do not use it too much as welll... people would suspect of your manhood... oh yeah dear... but I think I have understood it already... but I do not use it too much anyway... but then you sit in your chair and feel she is also there right there on your lap... because you can construct her hologram valentine... and you can do whatever you want with it... god mister... I am not talking about fucking sex necessaryly valentine... sorry mister... but it is so divine... please mister... mas eh assim tao divino porque voce nao consegue de fato construir o holograma inteiro... voce nao consegue construir por exemplo uma expressao de odio por voce no rosto dela... e por isso eh divino... mister please... non piangere piu... porque ela e so ela podera lhe oferecer a divina felicidade seja isso ou muito ou pouco ou alto ou baixo ou gordo ou magro ou seja isso o que for valentine... god mister... at least you have your hologram of hers... oh yeah... please go die mister... but then you talk with her hologram as if you were talking with her... oh yeah... and sometimes you believe that your hologram is complete and that there is really no anger in her face being directed to you... so divine... please mister god...

but then you begin from nothing to talk with the hologram of that guy that pointed his finger to you and now you can see some anger in both faces... some mister... are you sure some... and the talk will finish only when you desconstruct the guy in your mind and leave him alone to glue the pieces together valentine... god mister... hopefully in the right way this time mister... oh yeah... but then you feel so sorry for him... you have reduced him to desert sand but it is too late... thanks god it was only his hologram valentine...

and so life goes on... viva cuba valentine... cuba libre mister... oh yeah... after some one else maybe... what day is today valentine... today is the day you will pass entirely died in the bed don't you mister... oh yeah... night will take so long to come anyway dear... and you want only to be embraced by the night because you love her. I can't take it anymore mister pleease...

and so life goes on and you begin to think in her blog again valentine... you just need to open it... and she is a wild writer... and maybe she doesn't know it yet... are you sure mister... at least she could assume it for herself to begin... oh yeah... because she tells you a life in a brief paragraph valentine... per dio mister... oh yeah... but you are always in fear of having your own life resumed there in one brief paragraph as well valentine... but you can resume your life in a tree words phrase don't you mister... and a final dot dear... but you would prefer to play that flute forever instead don't you mister... oh yeah... mas voce tem que ceder um pouco valentine... explain yourself mister... she would understand dear...

and so life goes on but now you just need to stop for a while valentine... everything is so black... her heart could be so yours for you all dear readers of her blog and so you really can not decide about your part in it... if any... god mister... her soul body and mind are so yours my dear reader... but there is no way to make a proper division between soul body and mind valentine... three is a really odd number... her soul and mind should be put together in one package and her body should be put in some kind of templo to jezebel... forget dear... her body should be put in another package... I will describe later how should it be valentine... and both packages should be sent to your address mister... oh yeah dear... go to die please... what is the difference betwen soul and mind mister...

e entao voce comeca a pensar que com quaisquer cinco linhas voce derruba qualquer porta menos a porta do quarto dela valentine... diante da porta do quarto dela voce so pode posar como uma especie de eternidade mal resolvida... sempre ver chegar sempre ver partir e sempre desejar... como uma estatua muda, de pe, que nunca podera se mover... por que nunca chamara a atencao dela... please mister fix that shit... better forget... ou entao procure se mover um pouco god mister... oh yeah... it is time to shave...

and then you try to trace down her mind following in between her lines trying to find some hide meaning there that could be related to you... you want to find your right place in her mind once and for all valentine... but you can't find it... you never was able to find any place at all for you mister... take some breath mister... oh yeah... mas um dia beija outro nao beija quem sabe mister... e apos quem sabe valentine...

and what about the word diagonal valentine... diegonow mister... diagonal dear... don't know mister... I don't see any poetry in there... maybe a sword separating your heart in two halves by the main diagonal dear... if she is going to take hers with her will be fine mister... go die mister.... oh yeah... go die now. Mister... just for a while dear...

but then you notice so clearly a big difference between your subterranean letters and her blog valentine... in her blog she glues together all the guys and girls in love with her to compose her bewitchment and so you also can see you there in her coloured bubble gum... and in your case you try to glue together all the girls you are in love with but that barely or in no way requite your love mister... oh yeah dear... but then you should want to write a book of poems and to dedicate it for her and some others anyway mister... oh yeah dear... for her and some others... but there is no glue in your bubble gum for all of them mister... to die go now... but not hers god... not this time... this time you would stand in line forever to glue in her body the portion of yours you can see in her letters to the world... can you see your eyes there mister... oh yeah... she took a look at your eyes dear... oh yeah god... then at least you can glue your eyes in her body mister... but not in her eyes maybe mister... sorry... but not this tiiime dear... because this time you can fill your heart with the passionate letters she send to others anyway because you believe you see some traces of you in there... just traces mister... and your trace detector can be so desregutated mister... oh yeah... just a child mister... you would like to laugh but you can't dear sorry... so sorrys till die mister... but you would like to say once and for all for her does not fuck with you... does not fuck with you mister... I mean... you know... don't fuck me my so blessed senhorina... oh yeah mister... but now a lot of girls want to fuck her and with her dear... I mean... you know... not counting the so many guys in the last case mister... oh yeah dear...

but now you better go to review some little details before to continue with such a long so long history mister... for intance mister - so long but in the first chapter yet valentine - please mister...

for instance mister... does "you" mean "you", "his" or "I" mister? Please don't mind dear... but be sure that her means her without any reasonable doubt... oh yeah mister...

and for instance mister... you should use commas more often mister... oh no dear... no way... please try to follow the meanings by the words alone... no way dear... But who knows? If you say that...

and for instance mister... did she ever has loved you mister... so little detail mister... oh yeah dear... so little... but it depends of that for her to get the time to follow your words mister... oh yeah...

but later dear... because now you just need to go die... and now "you" means you and I valentine...

and in your bed dear... please... just embrace me...

but do you think they would burn her alive in some brutal fire as some kind of witch mister... oh yeah...

even when she is talking to a girl you think she is talking with the feminine part of some self of yours valentine...

but you would be there to save her in the last minute anyway mister... oh yeah... just embrace me dear...

but she would prefer to burn on fire than to accept your help would not she mister... oh yeah...

god mister...

just embrace me dear.

Mister...

and now to continue valentine... because everything else has to be said... but later... because love is still in the line... love is still in the lane valentine... as a furious siberian truck sometimes... and nothing is going to get it... again girls on girls but this time little girls in rebellion against the stupid adults again... and so little girls... the russians showed the evidence to the world with so perfect colors valentine... but the picture of one of the girls naked when she was a child is somewhat disturbing... it is an extra attractive to pedophiles but they got the courage... so borderline... if I was politically correct I would not get the courage... but sorry... and sorry again... just remember to say... I swallowed the piercing of your girl friend... but I didn't want to valentine...



and now the postgraduate student valentine... long history... but her mother better to say... mother and daughter better to say again valentine... so long history... they just could not to get free from my shadow for years... in another way it was I who kept them in my shadowy wishing well... till the day I left as clear as possible that I wanted both in my bed... but they refused... the daughter was so drunk... almost vomited all over me... if she was not so sensible... but she could not drink too much... and also could not this, could not that... dont remember the list... and the mother eyes seemed to declare my death sentence for short... her father could take the arrangements... I had to choose... not between one of them valentine... I had to choose for myself... but I am joking valentine... I am not so evil... I never showed my desire for the daughter... but it was not a desire for intercourse properly valentine... neither the desire of touching her with my hands...or to kiss her mouth... that would be a mortal sin in any human cosmogony... but maybe to smash my face in her so sweet nest down so down there valentine... where the carnal pleasure can come from any mouth... any bewildered greedy mouth valentine... but forget... I did not get the courage... and please do not vomite yourself... and the mother was so enough... oh yeah... so enough... but it was not possible not to think valentine... it is not possible not to think sometimes... it is just like that... but then what can you do... usually the guy keeps trying to seduce the girl in the borderline... just to try getting to some well defined conclusion on his charm say... to resume valentine... but there is no well defined conclusion... but the guy must keep in his heart the ideia that things well could be like this or like that if were not not quite favorable circunstances... otherwise everything falls apart valentine... but later... because now I am so tired of being a human being... so tired of constantly being adjusting my desire to kill with my desire to keep walking freely everywhere... but now to stand in line for this...



but then it fell apart valentine... and it looks like you have suicided your self... not your body valentine... your self... but later... because I had googled her name valentine... and I saw there in her blog... ask me anything... oh yeah... it is impossible not to think in something to ask... she also said that she wanted to be dominated... then you begin to think valentine... and you begin to think she is yours already... because you begin to think you can master the girl of so many different ways... but you can be so wrong... because it is you who are already dominated by her in so many ways... oh yeah... and she had those beautiful tattoos... oh yeah... and so you just need to go out again... to drink a coffe somewhere near her place again valentine... a coffee or whatever... and you stay there like a guard dog... you even take some reading from work with you... but no one really knows why you are around... giving a break maybe... as if it could be possible to give a break valentine... neither she could ever know why you were around maybe... but then she does not show up... and so you begin to think that it was because of you... she didn't want to find you there again... because you can imagine just anything... besides that she thought she could decide the score in a football game... her psychiatrist did not know what to think... some kind of super natural power... but at least she had not had showed you her finger yet... she had got you in so many extreme ways valentine... but later valentine... because now I want to find a place to shout this as loud as possible... so many here... you coudn't believe...



because it seemed that there was nothing more to care about valentine... no one else could interest you anymore... you didnt want to talk with no one else but her... and all that you wanted was to find her and to stay high on your toes to watch her swan eyes so above the clouds... because they would be so there... so above all world's misery and stupidity... and being so high you would want to cry aloud to let your voice being heard by all the gods of mercy and tolerance and understanding... and then so high above the clouds you would want to say so loud looking straight to her eyes that you loved her so much and as never never before... never... she could not doubt.. and that you would not be able to forget... not her... not her god.. not this time... nooooooo... but then it falls apart valentine...

but everything may be so different valentine... because you can show her your finger as a friendly joke before she showing hers to you with anger and disgust... and then she turns to be a little girl again... and you will continue to love her but now in a so different manner... once Lolita, you would begin to love her as if she now was Alice say... and then you would have wanted to see her growing till her lovely debut to the world being accompanied and protected by you, her proud companion of honour... and you would want to see her being married with your dearest and beloved nephew... but later... because you dont want to show her your finger yet valentine... not so soon... you would want to keep that fingers fight with her forever... oh yeah... but then you almost break your fingers against the wall... because the feeling of love is exactly the same as Beauty sometimes but when you can not reveal it to the world it becomes the same as Sadness and Dispair together valentine... you couldn't believe... so many... and so love has to be said but sometimes you just can't... but not this time valentine... noo... goood... you love her soo much... and you have suffered so many times before because of so many other veiled affairs of your so desolated heart... always sadly giving up of this girl to almost immediately being wrapped by the next... but not this tiiiiiime... this time you would be in your knees to sing to her like a drunk cock if necessary... as the old silly professor before marlene dietrich in the movie... his fallen blue angel... what a shame... but it would be somewhat different valentine... because before her your drunk cock crow would sound like an infinite trumpet to announce a so new and bright and very first dawn... coming from some infinite past it could begin to be heard with all the colors and stridences of mile davis but the end should be so very different... the end should be just like dylan in the movies valentine... oh yeah... no doubt... and so the angels would be able to guess for the first time the rich gracefulness of the dawn as seen from the view of those little sad creatures when they are in love valentine... you know... god... so many here... you love her so much...

but then again... sorry... you just neeed it here... at the very end valentine...



and so you open a private email account and began to send anonymous love letters to her... your own letters from underground valentine... written to Sonia, Alice, Lolita, or to any other woman's sublime caracter you could ever be able to compose in your mind... you couldn't believe... but later... because now you want to say once more that you love her so much... and then you begin to write her a letter talking about sensible cock singers and swan eyes in the sky so above the clouds valentine... but you want to do something different now... because she is not the kind of girl you could easily impress... oh no... and you would want to write an entire book of poems for her... do you know what poetry is... I dont know dear... but I know where to find it... poetry is everywhere around you my so dear alice... and you would not want to look yourself at the mirror to watch your face... no problem in watching your body... it could be better and it would be better... but you would not want to try to conform your feelings to some carefully composed mask to be shown to her in some right moment later... you would want to be as truthful as possible before her... so difficult sometimes... but it did look so easy in her case... and so only she would be able to describe that face of yours when you had begun to try not crying... and she would then understand that your most pronunciated facial expressions and wringles were provenient from your cry...

little man in love valentine...

but then you discover that she had not read any one of your letters... she was not used with that heavy wavering style of yours... she tought it could be some kind of spam... she had not got the patience valentine... oh no... she had not... and then you begin to understand that her last passionate blogs were not in no way written in response to you as you had so heartily become to believe... and everything falls apart valentine... and then you must be ready to go to the next... because you must keep the illusion in your heart... but then you begin to think you could write a book of letters written by suiciders... beautiful sad suicide letters valentine... to a friend, a brother, some girl friend... just to prevent yourself to let your own... and then you forget her for a while to begin to think you well could write some suicide letters on demand... you would have to charge in advance of course... and there would be the letter for the mother of course... there is no reason to commit suicide if your mother is not alive valentine... mine is still alive... and mine will always be alive in these mine words so I will always have my entire set of reasons valentine... oh yeah...

mother... just a word... be calm... just remember all the embraces and kisses I gave you... all of them were a testimony of my love... entirely yours... I am not giving up the labour but just returning to you as a recollected labour my mother... and be calm as well when destiny comes to put you in that mysterious line of time... just keep in your memory those you liked best... keep those you wish to keep... because all of those you have kept in your memory will also be in line to gracefully welcome your calm arrival... but I fix it later... but the guy had no faith at all valentine.... but he would not want to disappoint his mother... oh god... so many here... you love her so much... not your mother valentine... I mean... you know...

but everything may be so different valentine... because she could have read your anonimous messages and guessed your somewhat obscure romantic way to say things say... as she own had noticed to you before... she was a sad romantic nostalgic girl sometimes... and her last three blogs could really be being directed to you and only to you... oh yeah... and so you have to get the courage... the courage to admit to yourself... you would do that... and that would be good... without regrets... because she wanted to do that... and she wanted to do that without regrets... but maybe you would have to carry this burden for you both... because she had said in her blog she would have prefered not to be living a certain uncertain kind of love... you know... she was not so certain... but later... because now everything has been completely understood by both of you anyway... and the tension is to be dissipated very soon... for the worst or for the best... of course you would want to keep the mother as your official partner say... so enough... and of course you would never want to show up as the mister and guide of that little girl after some ridiculous scandalous... so ridiculous... you both would go to live in a community farm and get some children... so ridiculous... but later... and also the girl would want to see you as her mother's partner forever... because she had approved you... and she loved her mother so much... oh yeah... but later valentine... because now I am so tired of trying to adjust my desire to killl this mine self with my desire of finding a good excuse for not doing that...

because tomorrow would be exactly as today valentine... little concerns referring to being alive and the rest...

the rest valentine...

unless you get the courage and ask her for a date say... in your own place maybe... in some day she would understand as appropriate... because she also knew about her mother fixed compromises along the week... she would sit in your chair and you would want to dictate her blog to her... just some words please... hi there... I have been attending love today.... he is just an injured little man who needs our attention once in awhile... and today he needed mine so much... so great valentine... and she would be almost naked wearing just some old t-shirt of yours... old scene valentine... sorry... but you would want to be just lke that... and you would want to correct her small syntax neglects and try to change her somewhat feminine style say... and then she would show you her finger while pointing out some shit you own had done in your own manly blog... so great... but the date could also be in her place... and then you would dictate her blog to her while messing around her bedroom and smelling her panties in the drawers... so better valentine... in any case you would also want to see her reading aloud all the letters you had sent to her... so proud of that shit... but she would not get the patience valentine... because now she was there... and now beauty was there in her eyes and not in some bundle of worship cheap words you had put together to try to capture this same beauty to offer to her in a cage... but later valentine...

because now so many things are being continuously composed everywhere around your head while dawn takes so long to come but you don't want to know nothing about things except what a hell things she could be doing while dawn did not decide to come to finally put you completely exausted and drunk in the sofa after reloading her blog for this now last time dawn... last time promisse... oh baby...

you don't know what you are but you know you love her so much... and .there will come a day... oh baby... not her god... not her... you would be still in your knees as a little injured man till dawn come to pick you up in the gutter... god... so many here... so tired...



because you could not rest valentine... it seemed that whatever place you could ever be she would also be there right there in front of you... and so every move and talk of yours would be being registered by her... and you could not rest... always trying to personate for some one else or just for yourself alone what you would want to be carefully showing for her and only for her... wich was not there valentine... but later... because now she was a sad romantic nostalgic girl sometimes but almost all the time she used to show in her face some kind of intense happiness and self satisfaction say... there are some lucky people who love themselves so much valentine... you couldn't believe... and so you are always in fear of loosing her for some other as well lucky happy direct clear warm nice smart guy... god...you would lose so very soon the kingdom you had longed for so much and had barely begun to believe yours... very soon... nooooo... you want so much to see her waiting for you till the day will come... whatever day... and then you go to make your round again valentine... stoping there and there... as a dog peeing there and there to let the smell... god... but you want to meet her and also don't want at the same time... because you have been putting in risk your chances say... you have been doing your round even when the moment is not so appropriate... and also even when you are not fellling yourself as if you were in your best... whatever does it mean... because you would be truthful this way... shit.... but then you have the frightening fear of being inconvenient to her in some way before her friends or else the incomparable frightning fear of acting like a jerk before her... but this case includes the other... god... the thrill would be gone... you would make no difference for her anymore... she would say to her mother to let you... but then the good news valentine... she had just said in her blog she didn't care too much about the man's body shape... at least not so much guys... and that the only muscles she would want to test and to see enormous to hold her tight were the heart muscles inside man's chest... so nice valentine... maybe she would wait... so nice... god... you love her so much... and then you begin to think that all the power you ever could get over her would come solely from the almost crazy words you have been sending to her mail box believing that she would be reading them almost immediately valentine... god... but you are talking about love there... oh yeah... and so love needs to be crazily dissected valentine... because you want to let her know without any doubt... to let her understand... to let her moved till inevitable tears by the so sad disenchanted love you have been telling to her... oh yeah... you coudn't believe valentine... because she needed to be well prepared before you ask her to enter in your car valentine... or ask her to embrace you so tight... oh yeah... to embrace you... you love her so much... and you want so much to see her waiting for you till the dawn will come... but sometimes you just need to surrender to the words of some other guy valentine... and sometimes you also go to read that book... sorry.... till the very end valentine... but now the book does not show to be enough... and you would have to learn your own words... and maybe to learn the words for you both... maybe... you would try so hard valentine... but you are so tired now... and so you get some other guy to cry out your love for you.... you really don't want to be her mister and guide... you want her to take care of you as a child... oh yeah... so many here... till the very end valentine...



and sometimes you begin to think you are living a kind of tragic love tortured story of some very ancient time say... and no one in the world knows nothing about it valentine... neither her... you would rather say tragicomic burlesque but you find no reason to laugh... but of course you would not want to describe your feelings to her in none of these ways... of course not... no drama please... and please don't laugh of my so tight long johns... and of course the end should be so very different... oh yeah... but later... because now you are feeling yourself just tragic valentine... god... you love her so much... so much... just tragic...



because you could not decide about the beginning valentine... neither about the end... you could do nothing wrong and so the frightening fear... and you would like so much to see some signal in her blog... clear signal... she had to get the courage... because her blogs were almost always directed to just anyone in fact valentine... I mean... any man or woman could read them as if they were being directed to him or to her... and as if she was declaring her most profound feeling of love to him or her... or else saying goodbye... and always so sad goodbyes... god... but even so you would believe she was saying goodbye to some one else and because of you of course.... her new love brief love... kind of witch valentine... or else it would be so clear that those royal green eyes she was talking about were not in no way yours almost painted of black... but you would have to decide anyway and pay the price... any price you could imagine you occasionaly would have to pay of course...but you would not want to pay the highest price you could figure... so high... oh god... and the highest price was not her mother valentine... even because she would never know in no way whatever might come to happen... if any... god... but you love her so much... but later valentine... because now you are so anxious to open her blog again... but you will wait till dawn... but it is not the case of a credulous heart in love here... credulous of some mysterious force of the so freezing cold light of morning... oh no... but who knows she is not waiting till dawn as well valentine... and then you begin to write one more letter to her without knowing yet if she had really been reading all that shit... and then you close your eyes to try to find some words to use as a pray... a pray to whom valentine... to beauty maybe... silly shit... but you have to pray for your soul... after finding the words valentine... after finding the words...

because love has to be said anyway valentine... and it depends on your words to love shows itself as some set of crude facts about life or... it depends on your words valentine... and so many tears... and now on the contrary you want to pray to find the words... you would want to pray at least for her showing some gratitude for just anything you could find to do in order to give her any kind of pleasure and benefit... god... but that would not be enough this time... not her god... this time it should be no borderline but inside a dangerous land of plenitude and raw desire in order to attend love so properly... oh god valentine... you coudn't believe... and both would have to pay the price... if any... but you would have to find the words to convince yourself that there would be no price... and also the words for her maybe... and you begin to imagine words for her first... and you get a noisy black and white picture first... so noisy valentine...



but then she would be a kind of witch valentine... a jezebel with good heart... she knew so well the evil but she had not the will of spreading it too much... not too much... and so she would not be let to the dogs... and would be always in the place of the queen instead... and she would be able to face just anything in life... jezebel... god... but then you see yourself rigth there in her blog as her only noble majesty and also as some poor little man being kept in her pocket to be decapitated in a moment... at the same time valentine... witch jezebel...

or then she is just a kid man... she has been masturbating with your letters and with her wild pictures book but she never suspected the letters were yours... and so you just need to forget... you would never open her blog again... once so yours... and world would not change a word... and she would be just another beautiful kid walking around... you could teach something to her once in a while.... and also learn of course... but not her goddd... not her... not this time... this time you would want to teach to her a little some about evil...

evil against love...

and you would want to pave a so perfectly slippery path till love that evil would never be able to walk on it valentine... oh no...

but then you are going to try to find the real question you would have to answer valentine.... so dificult...

but you had to find a definition for yourself first... you could not define yourself as the guy who loves her so much... it would not be a good definition... so many others love her so much... a good definition of yours at that moment should contain enough reasons for her loving you as well.... of course... and should also contain your so very good reasons for you loving her....her in particular... maybe the real question valentine... maybe... you don't know what you are yet but you are entirely convinced that you love her so much... and then you would want to write a letter for sonia the prostitute this time valentine... because only sonia would be able to listen all your fears and crimes to give you then her most sorrowful forgiveness... and her womb for you to cry...

womb to cry valentine... god... because then your car rides would be really going to become the most risky thing in life... not because of the alchool it could be valentine... but because now you could meet her in some so very wrong moment... so very wrong... and both would not even be able to look at each other eyes... you both just can't... each with your own set of reasons... but you well could find reasons for her being as so actionless as yourself... but you could be so wrong... and so the song would remain the same... you dont know if she loves you so much as well or if she just begin to hate you for you being there again in her place... or if none... and you can imagiine just anything valentine... but you would want to pray to sonia so sadly anyway.. so sadly asking for her most sorrowful forgiveness...

but you are a kind of smart if you can see the stupidity of others valentine... but you would be really smart if you could see your own... god... so tired here... so many... so black... so black...

and so you go to try to find some illuminating words not in that already useless men's golden book of yours but in that dangerous red fleshly blog of hers again... witch jezebel... god... and then you begin to imagine a so very different situation... easiest to handle maybe... she would be your almost twin sister valentine... your incestuous sister... but you would never be her father valentine.. thanks god you are free of that so wild desire... thanks god... but as your sister you could see so many beatiful details... little details valentine... when you are in her bedroom side by side with her in her bed late at night... and you are talking to each other about music your parents and love... mom loves dad or not... that question could bring you so much happiness or so much piety... but of course you love each other so much... but later valentine... because she is not your almost twin sister right now... and you are just what... you are just that man who loves her so much... god... and world will not change a word because of that... so black valentine... you couldn't believe... but the dawn will have to come... and you are so tired... if you could find all these so specialy important cases in the book valentine... but you can't... oh no...

but then you know evil so well... and you begin to think you would want to see her as a zombi say... you own had made the curse of course... and she would not be able to find nothing more to do in life except being there right there by your side valentine... you would let her walk one step ahead... but you had made the entire curse this time without thinking for a second... and so you would also want to stay one step behind to keep her in your view and to feel the smell of her windy bright hair for the rest of your life... a so good marriage valentine... god... good... you love her so much... so many... so tired... so black... and the dawn will come so soon now but you don't want to see night saying good morning un bye so soon... because now night is just the same as her own self and body being duplicated forever in the light streets along whatever lighted way you are able to find and you would like so much to keep walking lost in between forever as well... and you are just so tired of trying to see night also during the guardian journey of the day valentine... god...what day is today... today is the day you will be anxiously looking for the night... and the book had said that man find happiness once in his life... just once... and then you begin to think that your time had finally come... god valentine... she is in your reliquary as the only image for you to ask some equilibrium and understanding... if you just could see your own... but she well would be able to stand still in that so slippery reliquary of yours while listening to your pray... because you love her so much valentinte... oh yeah... witch jezebel... dawn will come anyway... please give some words for her to say... but you would want to give her your entire love song playlist for her to sing for you valentine... you would be awk­wardly singing by her side... god...



and then you forget her for a while and return to your suicide book letters... and this time you go to write the letter to the sister... don't nee say word lil sister... even so... I've got something to tell you... sorry... and this time you would have to write more than one letter... because of the almost twin sister case valentine... so special... and some others... and then you begin to think from nothing that sex is a lure that love handles to put in your mouth... and then you go painfully being pulled by love till he takes you out from so nice fresh water and let you die suffocated dried in the sun... god... but what does it mean valentine... please try to explain yourself mister... I was just trying to find the words.. sorry... maybe love returns you to water instead valentine... somewhat injured maybe... love is a profissional fisher valentine... so good... he lets you to live... but you love her so much anyway and you would stand for this till almost midday sun... almost valentine... almost midday...

because you don't like sun too much... and you don't like to see people during day doing who knows what a fuck thngs they need to do in order to try being fucking happy and alive... you didn't like to see all that real work valentine.... because your real work was to keep finding words for her... and some people would not consider it a real work really... and then you could not feel so much empathy around you at midday... shame on you... but you also didn't like to see all those peolple in line for lunch... lunch time valentine... and you didn't like to see also all those two legs carrying a barrel of chopp and fat meat while cleaning their teeth so completely satisfied... you would prefer to be two legs carrying a bottle of some irish scotch aged in some so very tobacco smoked oak barrel instead.. and also carrying the so many words she gives to you in so many moments of most sacred destiled tears... words you keep saying to her in your so beautifuly imagined bright cloud meetings... god... you couldn't believe valentine... you love her so much...

but you can imagine also the so very worst valentine... love has been so severe and now you are so blind and from now on you will really be left so alone with your memory and imagination and your memory and imagination solely could so well lead you to the vision of the so most black inside the so most empty universe and so this way the moon would not be there for you to cry and even so you well would want to cry so much in order to let your so empty self to become the so very most empty self so very most lost in the so very most empty universe as well... god valentine... you love her so much and the day will come... the dawn will come the angels will guess because she will have to be yours and that just can not be different now... you jane me tarzan valentine... you jane me tarzan and the forest is now the so vey most desert because Nature respects the designs of love as Its so very most sacred obligation... witch jezebel...

because love has to be said anyway but you are in the kindergarten yet valentine...

do you like me... then write a poem for me... a poeme... what is a poema alice please... what is a poeme alice god...

you don't know what a poem is and so you will keep asking to yourself and to others what is a poem in order to who knows finally find a poem to give it to her wrapped in some lollipop during the playtime for her then to read aloud the most hearty words you were able to find to her and read them aloud being in front of you as your exactly idea of happinees and for her then almost immeditly to look around to decide who in that playground could ever have written those weird but sweet things anyway... god... but maybe she also didn't know too much about poem things.. but even if she also didnt know what a poem could exactly be it was exactly a poem what her eyes always showed so surely to be looking for... and a poem would be exactly what her eyes would finally decide to be a poem... but you don't konw what a poem is valentine...

but at least you can remember the last day you took a shower... it was just before yesterday valentine.... that is ok... and the next shower will come when you see you have forgotten which day the last day was before... but that is ok... because anyway you would want to collect all your dirty things before going to clean yourself in her so very most purificating tears valentine... and so you would want to be no more than a so most pure tear of hers sliping till her left breast to dry then in her waist as the so very most beatiful painful angel black and wild tatto you ever had seen... and that would be your everlasting epitaph valentine... god... so good... you are going to be there forver in her waist... so good...

mas fosse como fosse o meu epitafio em sua cintura... I willl fix it later valentine...
eu nao me importaria de ser abatido por voce...
apenas mais um homem
nem um anjo nem poeta
que morreu apaixonado...
como icaro la na altura
consumido de alegria
ao ter do ceu se aproximado...

because in your view only her tears of sadnees or joy could turn you a poet valentine... and of course you should be a poet to gain her love and tears also... god... where to go now... but latter valentine... because now you are so so tired of being carrying love in your back wherever you go... you please go there and then there... and love puts you there and there... wherever he decides you must go... who says love is a fly weight fisher walking on the waters... oh no... love is the world hercules sustains in his back valentine...

but then you decide to get to some conclusion... any conclusion... and you decide that today would be the day... would be today... you dont remember anymore the day before and so you just neeed a shower today... and you've got your conclusion valentine... god... but then you ask yourself why should a poem be made of just a few words.. you would rather see a poem as dense and povoated as... as what valentine... please don't say as leafs of grass in the super grass stadium being smashed by some grew up kids running after some slipery golden ball valentine... oh no please... because you didn't like sun too much and you also didn't like that shit too much valentine... and please don't show me your finger valentine... please don't show... but then you have found from nothing some few words to pray... please don't show me your finger valentine... please never show your so blessed finger for me my so very most blessed lady... god...

and then you begin to think that the musician guy her friend does not like very much the sun either valentine... because he just needs to take a look at the people in the audience to choose the most pretty girls who would also have looked at his eyes and then pass an hour or so doing exactly what he had been dreaming since his childhood... playing his instrument while looking at the eyes of some of his most dearest women... what a work valentine... you would want to stare for a thousand years valentine... and of course the same holds mutatis mutantis for the gay musician guy or for the girl guy or whatever... mutatis mutantis valentine... oh god... but then you begin to think that her friend musician well could love her just her as much as yourself valentine...god... and then you also feel sorry for him because you suspect he has not found his words as well ... but then you just go crazy while suspecting he well could have been playing for her while loooking at her eyes... you just go crazy... this guy does not work at allllll... god... and you love her so much but the world a word... she just could not see that you were going to die... would she come to kiss your lips in your so sanitized funeral mister... world a word shit...

but later valentine... later... because now the world is just her iluminated eyes so very most iluminated by her tricks... jezebel my queen god... you have got me in your pocket... but you don't complain because her so povoated pocket would be cheked once in a while anyway... and so you find some more words anyway... please my so most blessed lady do not cut my head off... because you love her so much and nothing in the world could change it now... world... what world are you talking about man... don't want to know nothing about it... with these my so sad eyes I just want to look at her eyes while playing my instrument for at least a thousand yeaars... because you love her so much valentine and love is the so very most sacred thing... the so very most... god...



but then some girl her friend comes from nothing to say she has some good news to tell you... in a second you imagine some so very good news she welll could be bringing to you... and all of them would bring you so much happineess... she had heard something about you and her maybe... oh god... if you could see your own... and in a second she telll you she is going to be an aunt... so very nice... so cute... world a word shit... because nothing but the girl valentine... and finally you have found a place to put this so very old words... so very old and so very new valentine... nothing but the girl... god... so black... so tired... the desert miss the rain and of course you would never go to listen that guy who didn't love women too much... of course not valentine... because you love her so much anyway and you would want so much to be the desert and her the rain... god... and you go to buy some cigarrets and drink some coffe and alchool somewhere near her place again... you rain me desert... me desert valentine... god... and all that you have is your dryness for her to rain and vivify... but you would want so much to have so much more to offer... you would want to offer her the most of whatever could it be... and so you would want to offer her the most beatiful love letter ever written of course valentine... the golden book is outdated anyway... and yours would be each word a grain of your desert.. and you would want to be reading for her that most beatiful love letter ever written while staring her swan tricky eyes so above the clouds during a thousand million years valentine... oh yeah... you would never want to think in an end... no end grain in your desert... oh no... god... because world a grain word valentine... love... and in all that desert of grain words you had found that so unique world grain... but you probably would lose it again... oh yeah... you please stand in line for this mister...

anyway... love has to be said when you find it valentine... bingo mister...

but dawn was over long ago and so you finally wake up... to read her blog again... to find more words to sow your desert... and you would want to write your next letter to her right there in her blog... if you just could... because you have been catching from her blog your sustain anyway... crazy thirsty hungry man... and then you find an human skeleton there in her pocket... you dont't know if man or woman... missing some bones... missing some ribs.. then you go to try find some missing rib to be put in your own skeleton... and you would want to recreate the world again with her always there so near your heart... god... you love her so much...



if you just could see your own valentine... because now that ex-girlfriend of hers came to tell you from nothing a so very diferent history... they had been together again in a motel... both drunk... what a relief for a second valentine... at least she had not been with her ex-boyfriend in a motel... till then you had not had any jealousy of ex-girlfriends valentine... I mean... you know... god... the book is so outdated... but later... because now you just need to be calm... be calm... because you don't want in no way to send her also the most beautiful suicide letter ever written... of course not... you dont want to be loved posthumously by her... oh no... and after all how should be such a letter valentine... because you don't know yet if she loves if she hates or if she none anyway... you would have to write then three letters... but then you would not be able to decide which to leave so visible in your bed anyway... it would be better to be sure... in the worst case you would have to write just one letter.... but then it should have to be again the most beatiful love letter ever written anyway valentine...god... and now you have emptied both the bottle and your stomach... in this order... and neither your mother would get the patience to read that desert book of yours to find the piramid she could consider as hers anyway... but you love her so much anyway valentine... your mother I mean... you know... and so you have emptied bottle and stomach and you would like to cry aloud to also empty your heart from any feeling of love... but dawn is coming so silently now and then you decide to accompany dawn with your silence as well... so dread sad silence valentine... you coudn't believe...you would want to have been crying aloud from dawn to midday sun instead... to cry you love her the so very most an to empty the so very most as well your head... and then you would want to stare midday sun above the clouds because you were already blind by her shine anyway... god mster... but at least she could guide you by hands once in a while valentine... who knows... the so very most...

but then you really need to find a definition for yourself because you have been so lost in the walk... at least you can understand that you really don't know who you are anymore valentine... but you are almost so sure as well that you must keep walking anyway for the benefit of your heart... and then you begin to park your car a kilometer or so from her place just to take a walk in some regular basis... god... then you begin to think you would like so much to be walking half a way the lafayette galery valentine... oh yeah... you would want to choose a wrap for her in this so cold weather... 80% laine d'agneau 20% polyamide or something... but you would want to pay the 100% if you could find it valentine... oh yeah... and maybe a litlle porcelain doll to her collection... oh yeah... but you are so distant from lafaite galery... and so you begin to think that you would like to have her in some pocket of yours instead but you dont have pockets... you just use t-shirts... and none lacoste... and of course you would not let her sufocated in your trousers with ciggars keys and some other shits... of course not... but you would not mind to change yor habits... oh no... but you would have just one pocket in your now new shirt for her to share it with her ex-girl friend... because you would not want to let her being there alone forever of course... but you would not want to cut off heads valentine... not hers of course... and so you would try so hard to keep them in peace... but you should take care with yours anyway... and you would like so much to see them in peace anyway while smoking a ciggarrete... oh yeah...

mother and daugther valentine... you would want to be in front of the door where alice and lolita were slleping together... and you would want to do the most risk thing in your life valentine... to enter through that door to give both a kiss of good night...

but then you get your clear signal in her blog valentine... oh no...

she had been considering all that shit just a game and now she is so tired of your so wrong moves... period... and she ended the game as she always has done... you miss her so much but...

are you crazy man... oh no...

woman knows so well how to evilly diminish a little man in love valenine...

but now you would want so much to ask her forgiveness anyway...

for not knowing yet that from her parties you would never be invited to participate...

are you crazy man...

oh yeah you are crazy... big shit...

if love does not let you crazy then you are dead man...

if you just could see your own valentine... god...

and then you take some words of someone else...

forgive me for loving you so much... sorry so sorrry....

and again you will forget but not so soon valentine... because you have been living a one-sided imaginary love relation with her since when you don't remember anymore... and you don't care and you don't want to count the days.... so many.... enough to make you forget all that came before....

love is a so odd relation in the set of human beings valentine... consider the weight relation to compare... if you have the same weight of your friend then your friend has the same weight as yours of course... and if also your friend has the same weight of some other guy then you three have the same weight... and of course you have the same weight of yours... but with the love relation all these so good properties fail to hold... to begin with you well can hate yoursel and so the so simple last one is out... you are related to yourself with respect to the weight relaion but not necessarily with respect with the love relation.. and so on valentine... but I will fix it later valentine...

but let us see... it looks to me just a little man with a great desire... desire of being loved by the women... so pretentious... but every man is this man... because every man is a little man before love valentine... and so love needs to be dissected by the litlle man... but he so soon realizes he has to learn a lot about everything else in order to do this... and occasionally the little man turns to be something like a little sartre valentine... but occasionally valentine... because most men stay in between... neither so ugly nor so clever...

but now returning to you and your girl friend maybe... there is a so very old myth about you girls going together valentine... maybe you know it... from time to time the woman asks for some rest to Nature... and Nature decides to go rest along with her... then man disappears for a while leaving his bag of bones as to let woman some remembrance of her self... and then wolves and sheeps, fox and birds, and all the remaining living creatures approach peacefully to see woman and Nature embraced together...

it is a very old myth valentine... the best possible marriage... but later... because now the worst...

the worst possible outcome valentine... the worst of all indeed mister... oh yeah... you begin to imagine that you have achieved your goal... that you have done a very good job and that it is just a matter of time... and then you realize you were so naive and wrong... because the girl has just blocked you and definitely disallowed you to live in the same world of hers... then you must decide for your sanity valentine... and just forget... but it is not so easy to forget... because it is almost a kafka process... you dont know what you have done of so wrong and can not give or ask for explanations... in fact you know what you have done... and you know that what you have done could be taken as if coming from some guy placed anywhere between the man, mister of her heart, and the crazy... so many possibilities... but the girl decides for the worst... and you are out as a kind of freak...

and so kafka also applies to heart affairs... oh yeah... and you just need to forget...

but now there is a religion you never heard about valentine... neither your girl friend... the Book begins with a small preface spread throughout the first gold printed page... something like this...

written in honor of the woman, shall not be read by her...

woman...

the desire of being better...

the desire of writing the most beautiful letter...

une lettre d'amour sublime ...

beaute incommensurable ...

si immense qui allait devenir un texte sacre pour les hommes, qui boivent de sa source...

et un texte interdite aux femmes...

qui si elle est lue, mourraient comme des vierges...

pas trouver un homme qui pourrait leur consacrer que l'amour

que l'amour qui allait devenir l'amour souhaitee en les...

but I will fix it later valentine...

and so the most beautiful religion valentine... but you are not allowed to read that letter... but let me tell you something... you can begin the book from any point you open it... because you will be able to complete the reading with your own experience of love... and after some few lines you will discover something essencial about it... and something said in a so beautiful way that you will begin to cry... and then you will immediately want to let the book aside to return to life as the better person you began to believe you have become... but soon or later you will want to open the book again valentine...

soon or later... and sometimes you will read the book till the end... god...

but let me register for now valentine...

uma carta de amor sublime...

a sublime love letter...

de beleza incomensuravel...

of immeasurable beauty ...

tao incomensuravel que se tornaria um texto sagrado para os homens, que beberiam de sua fonte...

so immeasurable that it would become a sacred text for men, which would look for some relief in its words..

e um texto proibido para as mulheres... que se o lessem morreriam virgens...

and a forbidden text to women who would die as virgins if were going to read it ...

por nao encontrarem em qualquer outro homem aquele amor...

aquele amor que teria se tornado o amor desejado por elas...

em qualquer outro homem ou profeta valentine... god... but I will fix it later...

but love has to be said valentine...

otherwise it remains unnoticed...

and so many other words, such as sadness and despair, come to take its place...

love has to be said... but please forget that letter now... just forget valentine... at least sex can be good for your health... and at least you can make friends with the motherhood deity if you want valentine... but then it will be an everlasting intimacy as you know...

mas voltando para a carta fechada de rilke valentine... que na verdade eu ja dei uma espiada... eh bem pequena ate... apenas dois conselhos... um para a mulher e outro para o homem... o da mulher vem primeiro... mas eh para ser lido em voz alta e ao lado do homem... que na verdade se trata mesmo ja de um primeiro conselho para o homem valentine... que a mulher nao precisa de conselho... e quem sabe se assim colocado, como se carta vinda das maos do proprio criador, quem sabe o homem nao ouve finalmente o que a mulher tem para lhe dizer...

mas claro que nao importa o criador valentine... so importa a obra... alguem ja disse isso... e da obra so a beleza... que deve revelar seu esplendor em cada canto... senao eh obra mal feita ou inacabada...

mas para a mulher valentine.... que lerah em voz alta para o homem ao seu lado...

homem.... permita-me ignorar... mostra apenas o lado bom... permita-me ignorar o restante...

algo assim valentine... mas bem resumido...

e para o homem....

se voce acredita que encontrou o amor nos olhos de uma mulher, va ate ela sem medo de revelar suas fraquezas... se for o amor de fato, todas as fraquezas desaparecerao... e se for ilusao, a dor o ajudara a supera-las...

nao sei nao mister...

eh o que diz a carta valentine...

mas mudando de assunto por ora valentine, deixa eu registrar aqui... outro aforismo pra voce...

o homem livre come quando tem fome e bebe quando tem sede...

mas isso nao tem a ver so com aquele regramento usual valentine... desjejum, almoco, jantar, lanchinho da noite... e nem com algum novo cardapio ou promocao estupida do macdonalds... que eu nao deixo de aproveitar vez ou outra valentine... mas apenas para observar o pessoal na fila e mesas ao redor enquanto me lambuzo naquela lavagem catchup mostarda maionese...

e a estudante de filosofia valentine... alguem disse depois que ela tinha embarcado desavisadamente em uma viagem quase sem retorno... alguns nao voltam mais... mas nao sei... so sei que ela me pareceu apenas meio entorpecida pelo alcool... um pouco mais do que isso talvez... mas ainda assim estudante de filosofia e articulada o suficiente valentine... pelo menos articulada dentro la do mundo dela... talvez mundo que ja fosse dela o paraiso e do qual nao havia mesmo porque retornar... mas quem sabe... e ela saltitava como uma bailarina calcada de botas de montaria agitando um lenco de algodao fino como um veu esvoacante de fada que tambem lhe servia de cachecol... e se aproximava dos homens todos ao seu redor para quase abraca-los e para rapidamente depois se esquivar de maos e beijos lancados no ar deixando um rastro de perfume e uma promessa de retorno nos olhos repletos valentine... repletos de ternura... tambem de tolerancia.. e tambem de compreensao... bem repletos valentine... e ainda cantava como quem fala e falava como quem canta... como se estivesse entretendo como fada la no mundo dela uma multidao de poetas e mais homero, socrates e nitchze, que tinham saido de casa para ve-la desfilando na calcada...

e eu nao pude deixar de entrar naquele mundo valentine... e entrei como um poeta declamando um verso qualquer proximo ao ouvido dela... nao pude evitar... me perdoe... e passei a acompanhar aquele bailado com meus olhos fixados nos dela... e os olhos dela, tambem fixados nos meus, pediram por fim mais leveza e calma... e eu compreendi que, para mim, naquele dia, o baile tinha terminado naquele instante... e a piedade surgiu quase que simultaneamente no meu coracao e no dela valentine... o meu so dela e o dela, ate entao mal acompanhado e sendo ali distribuido de graca, agora nem mesmo a venda e por nada... e ela entao se voltou novamente com calma e leveza para os demais da roda, todos transformados repentinamente em mendigos de tao despossuidos que passaram a se sentir daquele amor, para lhes trazer ainda assim algum conforto... e depois ela foi se afastando com venias, caminhando meio de costas, ate desaparecer levando consigo um daqueles mendigos, com quem talvez viesse se deitando vez ou outra em alguma cabana... quem sabe... mas pelo menos ela ja sabia que mais cedo ou mais tarde eu iria atras dela naquele mundo encantado... pelo menos parecia encantado valentine... um doce olvido da condicao humana... para ensina-la o caminho de volta caso ela quisesse mesmo retornar...

e dois filosofos valentine... cada um na sua corte e so um para cada corte senao... dois filosofos juntos sao como dois reinos em guerra... ainda bem que existem tao poucos... senao teriamos uma hecatombe nuclear... mas claro... no caso de um filosofo e uma filosofa... esse par tanto pode tambem se desfazer em uma pequena hecatombe quanto pode... bem... deixa pra la valentine... acho que o par perfeito nao se define... e tambem nao se pode comparar...

mas ser livre valentine... ser livre eh definir-se como livre.... eh dar a sua propria definicao de homem livre e compreender com regozijo que essa definicao tambem o define...

mas depois nao sei valentine... nao sei... so sei que depois suas piadas poderao virar piadas de mal gosto... porque ninguem as entenderah... oh yeah... but adults valentine... I will say again... please open your eyes as wild as possible... to not to become stupid as well...

mas acho que nossa vez nao deve estar distante valentine... a minha e a sua... que eu decido... que parece que nao tenho feito muita coisa mais por aqui do que retornar o mal... expressando o meu odio pelo mal que vi sendo disseminado pela ma fe ou pela estupidez... talvez nao valha mais a pena... pois eh quase uma explosao nuclear de odio valentine... que a bomba cai aqui ou la bem localizada mas depois se espalha rapidamente... e todos a volta sentem pelo menos o seu bafo...

mas nao valentine... acho que falta expressar muto amor ainda... e talvez voce ganhe mais tempo... e tem ainda o perdao... acho que ate expressarei meu perdao em tempo... mas me perdoe... que nao dara para esperar ate que todos me perdoem valentine... nos veremos antes disso...

e enquanto isso mahler valentine... as vezes so mahler para fazer brotar algo mais do meu coracao ressecado... pelo menos lagrimas valentine... so manyhere... sotired...

e se eu fosse o homem e voce a mulher valentine... acho que seria sempre assim... eu sempre esperando por voce... e voce indo para longe e voltando como um cisne no lago... deixando uma quase certeza... quase certeza valentine... quantas possibilidades, quantos sonhos, quantas palavras, quantos desejos, quanta amargura, quanto desespero, quantas lagrimas nao brotam desse pequeno quase valentine... god mister...

mas sem confusao.... que o cisne negro nao eh de mahler... mas se fosse o caso quem seria o cisne de mahler valentine... mahler se casou com um cisne... e tiveram cisnes que se casaram com mahlers... e assim por diante valentine... e o cisne de mahler eh o cisne que vem sempre se casando com ele... para que ele possa sempre continuar... e continuar sempre junto com ele...

quem sabe um dia nao vejo um cisne de mahler e consiga roubar dele pelo menos um arroubo irritado... que rouba-lo de mahler nao posso... esse seria um tabu que eu nao quebraria... mas pensando bem nao sei... que mahler ja teve seu reinado valentine...

But I have enough for the night valentine... I just gave a look... its is enough... tomorrow I will see... tomorrow I will pay the taxes... cause night will be great enough... great guittar, great bass, great drums and a so great singer... just a suicide trying to explode herself with no artefacts but the smoked air inside her lungs... oh god... from great gigs in the sky launching from a little child lost in time to... oh... I believe you can imagine valentine... oh yeah... such a powerfull voice coming from a real suicide... would like you were there to see the eyes of those little girls hypnotized by the virtuous musicians... the suicide jus touching their noses... the sound almost exploding their ears... and it was as if the music was springing at that very moment in their young hearts... and in the best soil... but dont compare valentine... soil so fertile is enough...

and so the music...


and so the first almost pre-pub pub... because one alice and two lolitas were
there valentine... or almost tree lolitas maybe... because alice was so taken by what
she was seeing and listening with so closeness, so real, for the first time in her life,
and also feeling so safe for knowing I was walking around so... who knows in
what directions went her mind full of rabbits and fantasies... oh god...
seeds of life... and so many tears of joy valentine... so many...



and the first bis... but almost all songs had sounded like a bis...

and please, sing it again dear... please sing...


and the final bis... so enough valentine... so enough... oh god... so enough...
and tears again... some of my most dearest valentines rigth there in front of
the cam... but I am not the sweet guittar hero valentine... oh no...



but maybe the music was already there valentine...
but I am not neither the little boy nor the dog valentine...
but if so, little boy or dog, I would be there nestled between the girls...



but yeah valentine... the music was also there...

music and minds full of rabbits and fantasies...




but returning to old stuff valentine... please notice... mine would be a harem of alices running through the fields or, if you prefer, a harem of free birds going everywhere... would deserve a long essay valentine but... as I imagine it for now...

free birds going everywhere but coming back once in a while to give me some kind of enchantment while hovering like little mademoiselles... so much little faster... so much little slow... but never too much fast... because I would feel this way your urgency to leave my view valentine...

oh god valentine so many tears you give me... god... but that long essay was condensed in some few words sorry... but in this way you can carry them by air mademoiselle...

mas e se voce fosse minha maria kodama valentine... soh me restaria fazer uma obra e ficar cego como borges... ou soh mesmo a obra que se fosse o caso eu furava os olhos... mas agora imagino que borges nao deve ter ficado tao triste assim por causa da cegueira... o que ele pode ver do mundo foi o suficiente para iluminar sua escuridao... pelo menos ele viu os olhos de uma ultima maria kodama and it was so enough valentine.... so enough... e viu os olhos de algumas outras antes dela... nao precisava mais da luz do sol... apenas daquela ultima doce maria, perfumada ao gosto dos dois, que o guiasse pelas calcadas... enquanto ele a guiava pelo mundo valentine...

mas entao um aforismo para voce valentine...

a mulher guia o homem pelas calcadas... o homem guia a mulher pelo mundo...

mas depois eu te explico melhor isso...

e voce compreendera que o papel mais importante nessa historia eh o da mulher...

mas eh muito simples valentine... a agonia da vida esta ai para todos, homens e mulheres... mas o papel do homem eh o de aliviar um pouco a carga da mulher procurando sofrer um pouco mais do que ela... procurando deixa-la tranquila... e o homem nao faria isso por alguem se ele nao gostasse muito desse alguem valentine... mas nao se trata apenas de sofrer mais do que ela... a mulher eh a semente da vida e o homem quer protege-la... essa eh a graca fundamental que todo homem e toda mulher carrega dentro de si... mas dai vem tambem muita infelicidade... mas depois eu continuo valentine... que agora fiquei triste... que me lembrei daquela estudante de filosofia...

mas novamente retornando ao nosso primeiro encontro... mas agora nao se trata bem de uma cena pronta mas de um "clima"... de cinema europeu talvez... pois voce teria me dito sim... teria me dito muitas vezes sim.... ou nao... nao sei... mas sei que eu sairia do teu quarto, o quarto que fosse, sabendo que toda a ventura que eu tinha ali vivido, vinda ela de qualquer que tivesse sido a proximidade entre minha figura paralisada e o teu corpo nu, eu sairia de seu quarto so posso dizer mesmo como um deus sobre o qual pairasse toda a miseria e todo o amor para resumir bem resumido valentine.... e caminharia cambaleante por uns instantes antes de ter uma longa crise de choro convulsivo.... e eu me sentiria um pouco aliviado.... mas apenas um pouco.... pois pareceria que os caminhos a partir dali teriam se estreitado repentinamente... e pareceria que havia apenas um ponto no horizonte... e que talvez eu ja estivesse nele englobado... o que mais valentine... talvez nohs dois estivessemos ali englobados... reunindo toda a heranca da humanidade num abraco bem apertado... bem apertado valentine...

mas eu ainda preciso imaginar o que vem antes disso... se aquele saido do teu quarto como um deus teria mesmo entrado la a teu convite valentine.... mesmo que como um bobo da corte para acompanha-la e distrai-la em alguma noite de tedio e agenda vazia...

mas se nao fosse a teu convite, aquele sujeito ainda assim poderia sair do teu quarto como um semi deus meio atordoado... com as maos ainda pegajosas do teu sangue mal lavado na pia... do qual ele ja teria se embriagado e posto para fora... para quantos voce ja prometeu um pedaco do seu coracao valentine... eu levaria teu coracao ja fatiado em nacos direto para a geladeira... nao poria no frezzer... para nao trincar as fibras valentine... mas tambem nao daria mesmo tempo de estragar... e eu nem poria muito tempero... quase nada... e acho que tambem nao teria doido quase nada valentine... mas nao sei... nunca se sabe... talvez voce tenha ate mesmo atingido o apice de sua dor... como num orgasmo... e depois tudo desapareceu como tambem num orgasmo valentine... e voce foi feliz viver sua eternidade...but later i fix it valentine.. am sotired now dea...

e entao toda a heranca da humanidade a ser passada adiante... o papel da elite valentine... de novo a elite... se voce cair nas gracas de algum banqueiro ou grande empresario ou congenere valentine... oh yeah... mas nao soh... que essa turma vai se confundindo com uma outra turma bem mais espalhada... turma muito bem letrada valentine... e voce pode puxar por um desses letrados tambem... mas a minha definicao valentine... definicao de elite que nao esta nos dicionarios.... mas tem alguma matematica de novo por ai... mas soh um pouco de teoria dos conjuntos e algebra valentine... em um conjunto nao vazio C, constituido por elementos que podem se combinar de alguma forma para gerar novos elementos, seja o que for um particular elemento desse conjunto valentine, a elite eh o subconjunto de C constituido por aqueles elementos que levam adiante, para as proximas geracoes de elementos, de maneira precisa e clara, continua, e ate infinitamente suave, ai com a ajuda de toda a filosofia e toda a arte, o que de melhor se produziu e vem se produzindo em cada instante em todo o conjunto... mas guenta a mao valentine... que eu preciso reler la minha definicao... mas ok valentine.... ainda resta definir filosofia e arte... e alguns detalhes mais... oh yeah... but later...

mas serah que a elite vai nos levar adiante valentine... basta voce escrever um bom poema... ou que alguem escreva um bom poema para voce... mas um bom teorema tambem pode servir se isso for do seu gosto... mas aih o negocio eh soh com voce... que ninguem vai te dedicar um teorema valentine... por outro lado, se voce provar um bom teorema, nao faltarao matematicos naquele "conjunto dos apaixonados e poetas diletantes que gostariam de lhe escrever um poema de amor"...

mas acho que todos acabam deixando algo para a posteridade valentine... ateh mesmo um natimorto... que pela dor pungente enobrece o casal ou a mae solitaria ... e ate mesmo em um parto solitario em uma planicie deserta ou em um terreno baldio qualquer... e ate mesmo quando os dois se vao valentine... mas nao fique triste... que pelo menos a lua cheia podera estar brilhando... nunca se sabe... mas ainda assim, com ou sem lua, ainda assim aquela mae poderah estar inteiramente confortada pela companhia que estarah levando consigo em seu ventre... para quem ela podera continuar sussurando baixinho... e todo homem terah ao menos olhado nos olhos de alguma maria valentine... mas nunca se sabe... me perdoe valentine... sorrowfull guy again... so amny tears god...

need some music here... and some images also valentine... god... these elite guys do whatever they want... so pure sons of nietchze... the poor little hick doctor can not believe in his eyes... so wild open valentine...



but what a hell valentine...the boy just open his eyes for the first time and immediately falls in love with all women... then some as usual stupid adult says to him he can fuck as much as he can for awhile, with some or no compromisse at all but then, as a magic, you boy please try to show you have forgotten all women but some acceptable official woman of yours... oh yeah... so ridiculous... but I will continue later because i am so tired noww... but just notice... the same stupid game holds for the girls... adults are so stupid valentine... please open your eyes as wild as possible.... to not to become stupid as well... but I am not an adult valentine... neither a child... I am a poet valentine... but need to think for a while... but oh yeah... Rilke valentine... some one hundred years ago he said that love was a sealed letter we keep sending from generation to generation...sealed letter valentine... man wouldn't know yet what love could be... but almost the same holds for today valentine... so ridiculous... but Rilke also did not recommend love as a theme any one could try in poetry... so many good traditions... but I will try to open that letter anyway valentine...

but the horror had not come yet.... because you and your friend, girl friend maybe, also student of some shit, were not yet well aware of the real situation... oh no... girl friend maybe... and I can imagine so well what you could be doing if I was not there... I could do it better valentine... but I was already there in that room of yours... and I knew that a simple look would be enough to keep you mouth shut and as calm as you barely could... oh yeah... mas isso no caso de voce nao ter mesmo me deixado entrar por bem valentine... ai eu aproveitava para fuder tambem a sua amiga... but so sorry sorry sorry dea...please sorryyydearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..... sory... plesass... so many sorrys... mas quem mandou voce nao me convidar valentine... e o horror real ainda nao havia chegado... que voces ainda tinham alguma esperanca de me enrolar com aquele papo de sociologia... you students are so naive valentine...

mas agora nao tenho mais interlocutores... seria melhor ter te poupado valentine... seria melhor ter ficado com minha boca bem fechada... mas nao aguento... e vou continuar nao aguentando... quem sabe ainda nao aparece alguem em tempo... mas voltando a voce e sua amiga valentine... voce tera que me perdoar... que eu as vi pela primeira vez juntas... e a graca de uma sempre estarah acompanhada pela graca da outra... como duas faces de um todo composto por voces duas debrucadas naquela mesa de calcada e mais penduricalhos... aparentemente indiferentes a todo o resto em volta como devia mesmo ser... resto de malucos embriagados em fim de noite pedindo para tocar raul... de novo... ja devia estar no arquivo morto valentine... mas depois eu te recordo mais detalhes... que eu fui la abrir minha boca para abafar aquele ruido quase insuportavel vindo das sarjetas... e vi nas duas, quase simultaneamente, primeiro surpresa e temor, aparentemente pouco temor valentine, e depois so surpresa... talvez surpresa e curiosidade... mas talvez o temor ainda estivesse predominando la dentro... nunca se sabe... e cada uma mostrando tudo aquilo a seu modo... e olhando rapidamente para a face de uma e outra eu nao podia decidir... duas gracas incomparaveis... mas agora so quero lembrar do teu rosto valentine... depois eu falo do piercing de sua amiga... me perdoe valentine.... mas depois voce sabe... o papo de sociologia... e a minha definicao de elite... para tentar pegar na veia... mas acho que nao pegou.... que nunca mais as vi por la... e por um bom tempo nunca mais as vi em lugar algum... mas seu mundo nao era tao grande assim valentine... mas mesmo que fosse eu dava um jeito de te encontrar... que eu ja tinha decidido por voce... voce seria minha...

Ainda e sempre, for suicidegirls and hopefulls, todas meninas por dentro... Again and always, for suicidegirls and hopefulls, all little girls inside ...

(but work in progress, as always... and these letters are for every man and every woman living in this so so modern age... the basket of fruits is so diverse and there ... suck a tangerine .... and go suck your buds that you will find, not so late, all the metaphysics you could not find in your chocolate ... a cesta de frutas esta ai e eh tao diversificada... chupe uma tangerina... va chupando seus gomos que cedo ou tarde voce encontrarah toda a metafisica que voce nao pode encontrar naquele sol la embaixo no horizonte... e que ja quase mais nao arde... but I will fix it later valentine...)

... para dizer que este rebelde nao pode representar o papel do rebelde de jeans na motocicleta valentine... que ele nunca o representou e nem mesmo sabe andar em uma... e nem quer aprender... mas que rebeldia se ve nos olhos... entre cazuza e lobao, qualquer um dos dois... entre os dois, beckett... mas quem olha nos olhos daquele rapaz parrudo, beckett, olha um pouco tambem nos olhos deste pequeno rebelde aqui ... os olhos de rilke tambem serviriam... que beckett ja esteve aqui olhando o mundo por nhos... e deixou algo registrado... he was around here so... e este rebelde aqui diz isso com um prazer que ele nao chama de indescritivel porque talvez agora ele ja saiba como descreve-lo... e hoje, mas agora nao se sabe bem desde quando, aquele jogo de tristeza e alegria terminou... hoje este rebelde nao fica mais assustado diante de uma mulher que ele ama... tantas... e ate mesmo parece que hoje vez ou outra ocorre o contrario... talvez este rebelde ja tenha se tornado um homem livre valentine... e aqui a definicao mais geral possivel de homem livre.... a minha definicao valentine... oh yeah... que nao esta nos dicionarios.... homem livre.... aquele que nao teme mais a inteligencia e a beleza... so teme a estupidez e a ma fe, que produzem quase o mesmo resultado... mas depois eu falo mais sobre isso valentine... pois hoje, e agora nao se sabe desde quando mas se sabe o porque, este rebelde ja nao eh tao bem sem causa assim, seja la o que isso for valentine... e a rebeldia nao vem mais tanto de coisa pequena... de alguma falta de compreensao vaga e adolescente... rebeldia de um ciclista rebelde equivocado... hoje a rebeldia vem diante da visao do mundo visto de cima because he and so many others were around us with so many inks in their palettes... e de cima, hoje, nao apenas suicide mas menina, que hoje eu falo pra voce menina, o que eu falo vez ou outra vira rocha cristalina vinda do seu ceu mais rosa pink celeste... e nao apenas de cinza e lava vindas sabe se la de que inferno meu (sub)terrestre... .. mas depois eu concerto isso... ou nao... porque ja esta dito ai... e agora continuar mas...

mas o corpo deste rebelde devera morrer como o de beckt valentine...

nao de rilk... como o de beckt...

rijo, ereto, ressecado pelo amor e pela poesia... e com o olhar de beckt...

nao seria rene maria rilk mas rene beckt a ter morrido...

para renascer mais adiante como rene samuel beckett

uma vez mais renascido... oh yeah... god mister...

Now an almost direct translation for you valentine.... per dio mister...

Again and always, for suicidegirls and hopefulls, all little girls inside ...

to say this little rebel here can no longer play the jeans role in Rebel Motorcycle .....

he never actually played it... not even know how to walk in a motorcycle... or even want to learn ...

but rebellion is seen in the eyes...

between Wilde and Rilk, Rilk...

between Rilk and Beckett, he would look at beckett eyes.... oh yeah...

and who looks in the eyes of that tough guy, beckett, looks in some way into the eyes of this little rebel here..

because he was around here to say something...

(but Rilke's eyes would serve as well...) ...

and this rebel says that with a great pleasure...

but pleasure he does not call indescribable because he possibly could describe it now ...

for today, not known well since when, sadness and joy game has ended...

now this rebel is not frightened anymore by women he loves... so many...

and today it seems that even the opposite happens once in a while...

(maybe this rebel has already become a free man... and of course I will give here the most general possible definition of a free man .... my definition valentine.. it is is not in dictionaries... hehe... free man... who not longer is afraid of intelligence and beauty... but the fear of bad faith and stupidity will always remain...)

for today, and now not known since when but known why,

this rebel is not so much a rebel without cause anymore... (whatever does it mean...)

and rebellion does not come from small thing only...

from some lack of understanding somewhat vague and adolescent ..

as a rebel biker case...

today rebellion comes before the vision of the world as seen from above...

because he and so many others were around us to think...

and today, from above, not only suicide but girl, because now it is for a girl what I have to tell,

what I say turns also crystalline rock once in a while coming from your most heavenly rose (p)ink,

and not only from the ashes of some mine unbearable hell... ... hehe... (this particular silly tihing was easy to translate...)... but later I fix it... hehe... or not... because I have just said everything above...

everything about myself...

and now to continue but...

but the body of this rebel shall die like becktte's body valentine ...

no rilk here... such as beckett ...

stiff, upright, parched by love and poetry ... and with the look of beckt ...

would not be rene maria rilk... rene samuel beckt would have died then...

to later reborn as rene beckt again revived... hehe ...


but then good old news valentine... when we grow up we turn the game.... whatever game... although growing up also implies, almost always, a lot of suffering first and a lot of thinking about it, no glitter but soul shadow inside.... oh yeah... oh yeah my dear...


and now one more picture of my self... some of my best addictions.. my flute, my books, my girls, my blog... and cigarrs... the worst... and my left hand... but I am not sinister... at least not so much... or at least I am not felling sinister right now... after belle and sebastian, of course... but girls should have come first in this list... because girls came first in my life to bring my first .. oh yeaahh... my tears..... you came first ... came first indeed... oh yeah...


and now belle and sebastian, of course... so nice... goes forever...
(please listen the trumpthet at the very end valentine ..)



but work in progress, as always... because here also Dante has found his paradise and, so better now, this time he was allowed to enter in it... and these mine words will turn to be my work while living this so sad, so nostalgic, so beautiful life... but ok borges... thanks for the joy and for the tears you always gave me...... but of course there is a lot between sadness and nostalgy on one hand and beauty in another valentine... but I believe I will keep myself in these extremities and leave for someone else to take care of the rest in between...

and so my work is just keep reading and rereading my own blog, listening my most dearest songs, arranging and rearranging words and keep trying to find more some... am I or am I not in paradise...

and now, of course, if I am feeling sinister...



and so, I am a poet... and this was the very first time I have said that not before the world but inside my own divine paradise... because, as I have said, my work is to keep arranging and rearranging words and keep trying to find more some... and try to convince somebody he has got a message there... a message just about anything... and a message sent in a somewhat nice way, at least... this is poetry... period... but what a work here... god... and so need to go outside to get some polluted air...

but sometimes I find so pleasurable places outside... and a so fresh air takes me again so far inside...

this time as a wally lost in this rock bar...

would also repeat this forever... but the guy taking care of the music should be kind enough, and he would, as he was, to keep giving me the command once in awhile...

and now snow... listen what I say valentine... please...



and the incredible bowie with his best song... but this is not the best version of it... I didnt found it in youtube... but look the skinhead girl with the bass... oh god...



... and an also incredible remix of space boy... oh god... what a video clip...



... and now in the "real" word, in the "real" work... but while giving a break for coffe and cigarrettes outside, I saw two students, two girls of course, walking through the grass... books and notebooks in their arms going to the library... and so grass rimes with grass... and so I thought in withmann and his song of himself... I will leave you my own leafs of grass for you to wander around valentine... you will also find a rabbit wandering around valentine, of course...

and now the music... these guys rock... and the vocalist has got his eyes... and his bigmouth also... oh yeah...



and the last one for now... hope so... bigmouth... the smiths...



But I will finish with this specially sad sweet one... smiths again...



mas deixando por ora tanta delicadeza e voltando para a vida selvagem... mas para a graca da vida selvagem valentine... que nao se compara leoa com gazela... e o leao sabe a seu jeito apreciar a graca das duas valentine... mas saiba que o leao aprecia tambem passarinho... mas sem confusao valentine... que esse passarinho nao tem nada a ver com voce... mas se fosse o caso, entao eu tambem seria um passarinho... e nohs soh pousariamos para descansar la bem alto, nos galhos mais altos das arvores mais altas... onde estaria tambem nosso ninho...

mas seu silencio valentine... posso dar a ele qualquer significado... the weight of the universe... mas nao quero pensar em nenhum agora... por que nem sei se voce vai ler... eu teria que considerar os dois casos em separado..... a valentine le... a valentine nao le... e novamente valentine, nao faca confusao... com aquele jogo de malmequer... mas se fosse o caso, voce estaria apenas cheirando a margarida para depois larga-la por ali... que no seu caso so tem bem me quer valentine... oh god...

e com isso eu chego ao seu colo... mas nao para dizer que o prazer de ter ali minha cabeca aninhada seria insuperavel... novamente matematica aqui my dear alice... com suas relacoes de equivalencia... para concluir que o prazer de estar no seu colo seria na verdade incomparavel... pois como no caso do leao, isso nao se pode comparar... cada colo tem sua graca valentine...

but returning to the free guy... and women, of course... what freedom should be in this case... again the eyes, I guess... the free man should look at the eyes of a woman with the look of a "primitive"... looks for a while and gets from it all the essentials about her... and so... about them... and so, he knows if he can look at her eyes again... or if he just needs to go away.... so primitive...

wish I was as free as that so primitive guy there... but now let me teel you abou the diferenc between fredoom and rebewlion valentibw... but i will fix it later... but i give up... i give up of explaining you the difference... i am so tired now valentine...

and for now let me just give you a mathematical explanation of bad faith... if you dont like maths valentine... but... please... I am counting with your good will dear alice... and so bad faith: the guy knows that he has at least "n" variables to consider before him... but he takes only "n - m" variables, with "0 < m < n" valentine... "m" greater than zero but lesser than "n" valentine... in order to get some advantage of it... oh yeah mister...

but the diffrence between bad faith and stupidity brings some light to this.. the stupid guy just can not see all the variables... and so his conclusion, based on his somewhat deficient set of variables, will be a plain truth for him... and so he will not be lying for himself... the guy with bad faith lies for the world and also for himself...

but I dont know which I prefer... the stupid guy maybe... cause I am so stupid once in a while valentine... the bad faith guy is the real enemy... but you should not go to bed with any one of them valentine, of course... (I am not supid all the time valentine... )

but dont be bad with men valentine... because there is not such a thing... stupid guys... guys do stupid things once in a while... just show them some of their stupidities when necessary... but not all of them... in order to keep your womb desire always so very well satisfied...

now... with respect to the bad faith guy you dont mind... but you could wish him some god bless and the entire horn's devil from behind... sorry dear...

and so... what I want valentine... well... so many... so much... and so incomparable... but the most incomparable... oh yeah... the most incomparable would certainly be to read a letter from you... finally read a letter from you valentine... saying you have also cried with some of my words... "also" cried... because I cry a lot... your tears would be the best shot... but also incomparable... oh yeah... but certanly would give me in return my most sublim tears... oh yeah... but dont mind valentine... just read... valentine reads, valentine does not read... that is the question... and so the sorrowful guy valentine... you know... he comes to visit me once in a while...

but now who could be the real poet in this so modern age valentine... the real poet... dont know mister... maybe this guy... at least it looks he has been living the life a real poet should live in this so modern age... oh yeah valentine...

Thoughts on Beauty valentine...


ok sweet... i do not exist indeed...
i am dead like a roast lamb...
but i like flowers a lot so
please seed and rain my thumb...

i like gold shower too... If you prefer...

(and ok valentine... lamb dont rime with thumb... after someone else maybe... would be tomb mister...)


I know one thing:
I know nothing except that I love it...
More one thing I know:
sometimes I love me, sometimes I hate me
but any time I love it...

It is a safe place to guard my love so...


Glitter deities... a lot of them.. no way to compare or classify...
But of course all have the essentials of a glitter deity...
All are reifications (sorry) of Beauty...
All are seeds for life...
All are all Man needs to create...

A glitter deity could be more glittered? That is a philosophic question no one can deal with because when you see a glitter deity walking in the street, senses control reason as an almost unbearable glitter transpass your soul...

But a glitter deity can be more than that...
She can become another type of deity... even more sublime...
She can become a motherhood deity... (a monstrous deity really...)
She will be seen walking in the other side of the street, hands with a child then...
child walking on its own feet already but still following her mother steps..
because her mother steps are also steps of a glitter deity...
and nothing cares most to this (glitter transpassed) child than to follow them...

Now angels again... francoise hardy valentine...



Do you pray valentine?

I'd offer my promisses list
if a word above all,
if a prayer, a faith,
if a lord did exist...

but still...

at least this (glittered) panel does colour the view...




Forget angels for a while valentine... what about replicants?

Do you know "Touch me" ?..... Rui da Silva - Cassandra...

Best "techno-love" ever.... remiix of blade runner theme...

once in a while, and right now, i put it in repeat mod and it goes forever...




What are you valentine?..... replicant? angel? glitter thing?... other kind?

i am so tired of constantly beeing in love with all these sweet disturbing creatures...

and to disturb them with human fellings they just cant understand...

they understand so well mister....

but there is nothing to be done....

except their being there to foster cure....