misterwolf94

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...