...---...

you stated your case loud and clear
it felt like laying down the burden
i gave you the reply you wouldn't want to hear
i was sure i was right about you,
but you managed to surprise me
you want to come in and take a peek
to what's inside
i need to know what's behind your eyes
no one has ever seen it before
and i wonder if it will ever happen
the first step is the hardest
but it has to come from you
but will anyone care?
if there's that much inside
nobody will dare to ignore it
i wouldn't know where to start...
friends roam this world waiting to hear it
you say that because of your bias
but you don't know me
everyday i wonder
if i knew you
would i feel the same way?

white matter

winter night in London
on my way home and
snowflakes falling
like shy children on their first day of school
they say there are no two alike
each one unique in its form and shape
i wonder whether that's really true
after all, like those children
they all dissolve into water in the very end
they're all made up of the same ageless material
i guess it's all part of the neverending cycle
and so they keep on falling from the sky
whitening the grey streets
the parked cars
and confused minds
good night...

is there space for anything else?

my head
is constantly filled
with
a turmoil of thoughts
and
a whirlwind of emotions...

raging bull in a cold and snowy winter night

embuído do espírito aventureiro e desejoso de ver um filme recente (afinal de contas, só tem a mesma idade que eu...), lá fui eu ontem ver o "Raging Bull" no National Film Theatre. a tarde/noite estava um bocadinho fria. digamos apenas que nevava ligeiramente e estava um vento cortante, mas nada de especial quando comparado com o frio que se faz sentir no Portugal transmontano em épocas natalícias... quer dizer, não seria nada se eu não tivesse tido a brilhante ideia de lavar o blusão mais quente que tenho na noite anterior. digamos só que não foi bonito. abençoado gorro e luvas!
adiante...
o filme propriamente dito é espectacular. melhor que o filme, só mesmo a transformação do Robert de Niro à medida que Jake La Motta ganha idade, combates e especialmente peso, na razão inversa da sua estabilidade emocional. mas, como é Hollywood, a história tem que acabar em "bem", neste caso um fim agridoce para uma estrela do boxe americano dos anos 40 e 50. um filme que marca pela forma crua como retrata o percurso de uma vida, nos seus bons e, principalmente, nos (muito frequentes) maus momentos.
agora é só esperar por março para ver mais pérolas do cinema que me escaparam. American Splendor e Dogville, entre outros...

i'm dreaming of a white London...

...pera lá! e não é que está mesmo a nevar em Londres??! é uma sensação estranha acordar e ver resquícios de neve nos passeios, nos carris e plataformas do metro, nos carros e nos jardins. devo ser um dos poucos em Londres que anda pela rua com um sorriso nos lábios às 8:30 da manhã. sorriso esse completamente idiota e sem razão aparente, mas a neve tem este efeito em mim...

thickening the sketch

guide my hand while i draw the pictures...

mutatis mutandis

long day ahead...

yet another silly love song

you
you keep me guessing all the time
you
you are the reason for my rhyme
you always leave me in the dark
and though you don't try you leave a mark

i'm always wondering
thinking whether it's you
i'll keep on dreaming
wishing for more time with you

i
i sit and wait for your reply
a single word would get me by
i
i just can't keep you off my mind
i've got to know what i might find

i'm constantly feeling like this
feeling this way for you
i'm desperately seeking
a way to be with you

they
they were all taken by surprise
they
they all failed to recognize
the feeling i'm keeping inside
slowly leaving the place to hide

and so i'm lying in bed
daydreaming about you
deeply thinking of ways to
unravel the mystery that's
you...

and now for something completely different...

...cai neve em Londres, há sol no meu país...

like william tell aiming at the big apple...

topo de gama - clã

tenho um telemóvel topo de gama
mas ninguém me liga
mas ninguém me chama

tenho um automóvel cor azul índigo
ninguém quer boleia
ninguém vem comigo

tenho um apartamento virado para o mar
ninguém bate à porta
ninguém vem jantar

será que sou feio será que sou chato
será que vou dar em bicho do mato
será que sou giro mas giro ao contrário
será que estou preso dentro de um armário
não estás não senhor
apenas agora ficaste de fora
das contas do amor

tenho as medidas de um manequim
a beleza certa
ninguém dá por mim

tenho um bom emprego muito produtivo
até vale tirar olhos
é tão competitivo

tenho um consultório com um bom divã
onde deito a alma
e conto à mamã

será que sou feio será que sou chato
será que vou dar em bicho do mato
será que sou giro mas giro ao contrário
será que estou preso dentro de um armário
não estás não senhor
apenas agora ficaste de fora
das contas do amor

it's been said before, always look on the bright side of life...

ear whispering

"...even if you cannot hear my voice, i'll be right beside you, dear..."
run by snow patrol

's watching you

you are still a little boy, the same since you wished for me to come
you wanted me in this world, so here am i
far from you but strangely as close as ever
coming to grips with what we carry inside
i owe a lot to you
always around over the years
helping me to shape my own inner clay
raising challenges and standards
inciting me to keep up
you are still a little boy
adventurous inside
serene on the outside
but still the little boy i grew up admiring

1901-....

i guess you'd be 104 by now
all your wisdom trapped
in an old man's body
i never saw you angry
not even when you were bound
to a bed that didn't deserve you
emprisoning your health
even then your smile endured
i'll always remember those
long gone summer nights
when you told your amazing stories
while the moon shone on your unshaved face
i like to think that a part of you
is still lingering on this world
in my mother's eyes
my uncle's laugh
my brother's face
and in my every step

eyes 2.0

eyes

everything looks pale in comparison
to the sight of you
my eyes could well go blind
that i wouldn't miss my sight
because staring deep into your eyes
is the greatest sight
they'll ever experience
i want to immerse myself
in that brown sea
punctuated with black islands
after all
they are the windows
to your soul...

settling down again...

...after a hectic week, filled with excitement and (not so) cultural visits around London
nothing like the winds of Portugal to spread some colour in this dim city
and inflate me with a renewed sense of wonder
and i'm not letting go of this feeling
not now that
i got it back

kudos for all of you
and now, back to my daydreams...

your ancient smile will stay forever

sadness weeps today in one of the newest branches of my family tree. the eldest member left yesterday never to return. her smile will remain with me forever. though i can't be there to support all of you, my heartbeat is synchronized with yours...

clearing the path

no more endless layers
hiding what i am
inside

looking for the right key...

i'm still looking for the right key
within a set of keys i was born with
for the one that will able to set free
what's been locked for too long
i've reached deep inside and found
the one that opened myself
to the world around
slowly turning in the lock
close to opening wide with each
minute that goes by in the clock

believe me when i say
that what you gain
from letting others inside
is enough to take away
all the strain
you insist to keep by your side

so i'll keep looking for the right key
the one that will make you see
that
you
can
always
count
on
me

maybe one day the blanks will be filled

you're just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off you
you'd be like heaven to touch
i wanna hold you so much
at long last love has arrived
and i thank god I'm alive
you're just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off you

pardon the way that i stare
there's nothing else to compare
the sight of you leaves me weak
there are no words left to speak
but if you feel like i feel
please let me know that it's real
you're just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off you

i ____ ___, ____,
and if it's quite alright,
i ____ ___, ____,
to warm a lonely night
i ____ ___, ___.
trust in me when i say:
oh, ______ ____,
don't bring me down, i pray
oh, ______ ____, now that i found you, stay
and let me ____ ___, ____
let me ____ ___


adapted from Frankie Valli while the journey's starting...

anatomy

skull bone resonance is amazing
that's the only explanation for the fact that you love to hear the sound of your own voice that much...
and the world keeps revolving around you
i guess this means that somethings really don't change
don't expect me to change
because i'm tired of bending all the time
and it's about time i grow some backbone

crustacean thoughts

you're nothing but a hermit crab, sucking the life out of the shell that carries you through the world. until a shiny new one comes up and you slide your slimy body to yet another hole.
and the funny thing is that your hard spot doesn't really belong to you. you borrow your strenght from what surrounds you and keeps you safe. a barrier, a point of entry and a filter to the outside world, all rolled up in a concentric aglomerate of calcium.
keep dwelling in the bottom of the ocean, unaware of the perils and wonders above. never stopping to realize what's this really all about.

just remind yourself that empty shells are much easier to crack...

up there where i live

No bairro do amor a vida é um carrossel
onde há sempre lugar para mais alguém
o bairro do amor foi feito a lápis de cor
por gente que sofreu por não ter ninguém

No bairro do amor o tempo morre devagar
num cachimbo a rodar de mão em mão
no bairro do amor há quem pergunte a sorrir
será que ainda cá estamos no fim do Verão

Eh pá, deixa-me abrir contigo
desabafar contigo
falar-te da minha solidão
Ah, é bom sorrir um pouco
descontrair um pouco
eu sei que tu compreendes bem

No bairro do amor a vida corre sempre igual
de café em café, de bar em bar
no bairro do amor o sol parece maior
e há ondas de ternura em cada olhar

O bairro do amor é uma zona marginal
onde não há prisões nem hospitais
no bairro do amor cada um tem de tratar
das suas nódoas negras sentimentais

Eh pá, deixa-me abrir contigo
desabafar contigo
falar-te da minha solidão
Ah, é bom sorrir um pouco
descontrair um pouco
eu sei que tu compreendes bem

Jorge Palma

the other side of the mirror

looking past your own reflection, the other side of the mirror displays another world. where symmetry is reversed. past, present and future collide in one plane.
shattered moments of your existence are immortalized in your iris and in every wrinkle, while the ever-changing background molds you into something you cannot recognize. you freeze and stare around you, hoping to catch a glimpse of a movement on the other side, but nothing ever moves except your mind. a frenzy of thoughts and desires flashes in front of your eyes. exposing your inner contents, the nature of your timeless soul.
fast-forward your life while looking into the mirror. watch the crippling wave of time swarm your body, leaving no cell unturned.

can you look past your own reflection?

2005 on the move...

Perspectiva-se um 2005 muito animado...

Abril - Meeting em Warwick
Maio - Lab retreat em Bergerac
Junho - Meeting em Glasgow
Setembro (?) - Curso em Heidelberg (?)
Setembro (?) - Meeting em Cold Spring Harbor (NY)

E no meio disto tudo lá terá que se arranjar tempo para trabalhar um bocadito...

implosion

life is ticking away
days seem mad and pale
i lost the will to pray
i want off of this jail

i search deep inside
for what keeps me here
some kind of guide
or beacon which to steer

but i find nothing
and that's why

i'm getting ready to implode
dissolve what's beneath my skin
go into self-destructing mode
and wash away all the sin

give in to the appeal
drive me to the edge
my soul you'll steal
once i step off that ledge

something stops me
and with surprising silence
keeps smothering what i see
bottling my violence

i never found anything
and that's why

i'm getting ready to implode
dissolve what's beneath my skin
go into self-destructing mode
to change the state i'm in

it won't hurt a thing
so that's why

i'm getting ready to implode
dissolve what's beneath my skin
go into self-destructing mode
give me that sweet n' sour grin

babel

fast-paced royal metropolis
heavy air atmosphere
babel of faces and races
voices from near and afar
echoing in the streets
and in every corner
of a patchy city made up
of blocks from different countries
surrounded by millions
but i've never been so alone

and the darkest parts of within speak

the voice speaking to the desert:
"the cool thing about dying is that you can never go back..."

yesterday an old lady made me smile

catching people's essence on paper
during a tube ride in west london
small notepad and pencil
quickly drawing somebody sleeping
like a human photographic camera
inquisitive look and steady hand
wrinkled face from the passing time
collecting moments
freezing faces
movements
all this
on her way home