3.4.06

Letters from the US


(He seats on something on the pick-up's front seat)

- What the hell's this?
- A... A DVD?...
- Yeah, sure, I know what this is... what for?
- Hum... don't know... really couldn't say...
- C'mon, what's this shit all about?
- I thought that...
- Ya "thought"? Now you do that, huh? Since when, huh?
- It's just that... I was thinking...
- F*** you, ya stupid ass: YOU DON'T THINK. Unless I tell ya to, got it?
- Ok, baby, ok. It's ok. I just...
- WHAT?
- Today's yo...
- Well, will you say that shit once and for all? DO IT, ya lazy b****!
- It's... You just... don't... don't let me... fini... sh... Today's...

(He smacks her face)

- WHAAAAAAAT?

(Has his fist up, ready to punch her right on the cheek)

- An-ni-vers-sa-ry. Yo-yours... Now, come down... ok?
- Oh yeah? But now you've ruined, haven't ya? Now ya gonna taste a bit of my fists, ya cow. Sometime, you'll learn anything useful. Took ya too long, MISSED MY BUUUS!
- (...)
- Then ya can call ya friends from the squad, huh? You'll run to them again, huh? They'll come here... Nosy nosy, bossy bossy, picky picky, HUH?

(He takes her off the car, hangs her by her clothes, smacks her over and over against the vehicle, bites her hands violently, his fist comes and goes as fast as he can, starts to get colored by the blood that runs from her face, all over her dress, all over the car, all over the ground, all over the grass. She faints. Falls down, while he keeps on spanking on and on and on. Neighbours come screaming, cross the fence, jump over it, those who try'n hold him back are repelled as soon as they get near, people keep on screaming, only way to stop him is by some kind of touchdown, his legs together, to make him fall. He falls only when the police comes, forced by the guns that face him, people all over the place with bruises and cuts, women and children crying. No one remembers the woman lying down. As they approach her little tiny body, they finally get it: it’s too late for her.)

Too late for her. Too late for her...

Violators won't need any motive... at all.
Everything counts.

How many more women's lives are needed?
How many times more will we be too late?
How many people will still shut up?
How...?

Every six seconds,
a woman is rapped,
suffers violence,
forgets she has rights.

How many more...?
Still you shut up...
For how long?

(...)
Silence helps crime!

Hey, I could'a writen (some of) those! Ma-an!...

Este link foi descoberto aqui. Aham.
---

[Dr. House is seeing a patient whose skin is bright orange seeking treatment for back pain]
Dr. Gregory House: Unfortunately, you have a deeper problem. Your wife is having an affair.
Dr. Gregory House: You're *orange*, you moron. And it's one thing for you not to notice, but if your wife hasn't picked up on the fact that her husband has changed colours, she's just not paying attention.
---
Dr. Wilson: [Wilson is quoting a poem from a patient of House's] 'The healer with his magic powers! / I could rub his gentle brow for hours. / His manly chest, his stubbled jaw, / Everything about him leaves me raw-'
Dr. Gregory House: Psych ward's upstairs.
Dr. Wilson: -with joy. Oh, House your very name / Will never leave this girl the same.' It's not bad for an 82-year-old. She asked me to give that to her true love.
Dr. Gregory House: What can I say? Chicks with no teeth turn me on.
Dr. Wilson: That's fairly disgusting.
Dr. Gregory House: That's ageism.
Dr. Wilson: You better watch yourself around this babe.
---

Dr. Eric Foreman: I think your argument is specious.
Dr. Gregory House: I think your tie is ugly.

---


Dr. Wilson: That smugness of yours really is an attractive quality.

Dr. Gregory House: Thank you. It was either that or get my hair highlighted. Smugness is easier to maintain.


---


Dr. Gregory House: Perseverance does not equal worthiness. Next time you want to get my attention, wear something fun. Low-riding jeans are hot.


---


Rachel Adler: What made you a cripple?

Dr. Gregory House: I had an infarction.

Rachel Adler: A heart attack?

Dr. Gregory House: It happens when the blood flow is obstructed. It's in the heart, it's a heart attack; it's in the lungs, it's a pulmonary embolism; it's in the brain, it's a stroke. I had it in my legs.

Rachel Adler: Wasn't there something they could do?

Dr. Gregory House: There was plenty they could do... if they had made the right diagnosis. The only symptom was pain. Not many people get to experience muscle death.

Rachel Adler: Did you think you were dying?

Dr. Gregory House: I hoped I was dying.


---


Dr. Robert Chase: Matt's mum won't make a move until she hears from the C.D.C.

Dr. Wilson: Godot would be faster.


---


Dr. Gregory House: I suppose "minimally at best" is your stiff upper lip British way of saying "No chance in hell"?

Dr. Robert Chase: Actually, I'm Australian.

Dr. Gregory House: You put the Queen on your money. You're British.


---

Rachel Adler: I just want to die with a little dignity.

Dr. Gregory House: There's no such thing! Our bodies break down, sometimes when we're 90, sometimes before we're even born, but it always happens and there's never any dignity in it! I don't care if you can walk, see, wipe your own ass... it's always ugly, always! You can live with dignity; you can't die with it!

---


Dr. Gregory House: You think it's going to come out on its own? Are we talking bigger than a breadbasket? 'Cause actually, it will come out on its own, which for small stuff is no problem: it's wrapped up in a nice soft package and plop. Big stuff? You're gonna rip something, which, speaking medically, is when the fun stops.

Young Man: How did you...?

Dr. Gregory House: You've been here for half an hour and you haven't sat down; that tells me its location. You haven't told me what it is; that tells me it's humiliating. You have a little birdie carved under your arm; that tells me you have a high tolerance for humiliation, so I figure it's not hemarrhoids. I've been a doctor twenty years, you're not going to surprise me.

Young Man: It's an MP3 player.

Dr. Gregory House: Is it... is it because of the size, the shape, or is it the pounding bass line?

---

Dr. Cameron: Department of justice statistics show it's a racially motivated form of punishment. Black defendants are ten times more likely to get a death sentence than whites.

Dr. Eric Foreman: Doesn't mean we need to get rid of the death penalty. Just means we need to kill more white people.

---

Dr. Gregory House: Nobel invented dynamite. I won't accept his blood money.


---

Dr. Gregory House: You're a wuss. Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me... Hey, Wilson! Guess what Foreman just did!


---

Dr. Robert Chase: Gambling doesn't take away his pain.

Dr. Gregory House: [enters] It does if I win.

---

Dr. Gregory House: The Cripple Boys. We should start a band.


---

Dr. Gregory House: Trouble in paradise. 2 o'clock.
Dr. Wilson: Wait, your 2 o'clock or my 2 o'clock?
Dr. Gregory House: Over there!

---
Stacy Warner: [about Chase] Why didn't you fire him?

Dr. Gregory House: He's got great hair.
---

Dr. Robert Chase: In pre-med, I had a professor who -

Dr. Gregory House: - touched you in the naughty place?

---

[Cameron is in the lab working on some equipment]

Dr. Gregory House: Mixing up some margaritas? Mine's a double, Senorita. That's Portuguese you know.

Dr. Cameron: [too quietly] Spanish.

Dr. Gregory House: Uh-oh. What's going on?

Dr. Cameron: I'm re-calibrating the centrifuge.

Dr. Gregory House: Turn around. [she's been crying]

Dr. Gregory House: It's a very sad thing, an un-calibrated centrifuge. It makes me cry too.

Dr. Cameron: I'm not crying.

Dr. Gregory House: Ok. [pause]

Dr. Cameron: ...When I was in college, I... I fell in love, and I got married. And...

Dr. Gregory House: At that age the chances of a marriage lasting -

Dr. Cameron: It lasted six months. Thyroid cancer metastasized to his brain. There was nothing they could do. I was 21, and I watched my husband die.

Dr. Gregory House: I'm sorry. But that's not the whole story. It's a symptom, not your illness. Thyroid cancer would have been diagnosed at least a year before his death, you knew he was dying when you married him. Must have been when you first met him. And you married him anyway. You can't be that good a person and well adjusted.

Dr. Cameron: Why?

Dr. Gregory House: Because you wind up crying over centrifuges.

Dr. Cameron: Or hating people?

---

Dr. Gregory House: I saw the light on.

Dr. Cameron: It's daytime.

Dr. Gregory House: Yeah. It's a figure of speech. Always so literal. [pause] Dr. Cameron: Got a new cane.

Dr. Gregory House: Yeah. Guy in the store said it was slimming. Vertical stripe...

Dr. Cameron: Why are you here?

Dr. Cameron: Vogler is dead.

Dr. Cameron: What? What happened?

Dr. Gregory House: Again with the literal translation. Vogler the idea, Mr. Destructo, Mr. Moneybags, bow does before me; he is gone from the hospital, so things can go back to the way they were.

Dr. Cameron: The way they were was kind of weird.

Dr. Gregory House: Weird works for me.

Dr. Cameron: What are you saying? Literally?

Dr. Gregory House: I want you to come back.

Dr. Cameron: Why? [House's beeper goes off, Cameron crosses her arms]

Dr. Gregory House: Please unclench. You're not on the clock, and when you do that, I clench, and then it's the whole thing...

Dr. Cameron: Could you look at your pager? [he does]

Dr. Gregory House: It's no big deal, some sort of epidemic. Not my area.

Dr. Cameron: You should go, it's important.

Dr. Gregory House: What I'm doing now is important.

Dr. Cameron: Why do you want me back?

Dr. Gregory House: Because you're a good doctor.

Dr. Cameron: That's it?

Dr. Gregory House: That's not enough?

Dr. Cameron: Not for me. Go deal with your plague. [she shuts the door in his face.]

---

[About Cuddy]
Dr. Robert Chase: You two are just too nasty to each other not to have been... nasty.

Dr. Gregory House: Hey, I can be a jerk to people I haven't slept with. I am that good.

---


Dr. Gregory House: Why are you doing this?

Dr. Cameron: I'm not doing anything.

Dr. Gregory House: You're manipulating everyone.

Dr. Cameron: People... dismiss me. Because I'm a woman, because I'm pretty, because I'm not agressive. My opinions shouldn't be rejected just because people don't like me.

Dr. Gregory House: They like you. Everyone likes you. [he starts to walk away]

Dr. Cameron: Do you? [pause]

Dr. Cameron: I have to know.

Dr. Gregory House: No.

Dr. Cameron: [smiles quietly] Okay.


---

Dr. Gregory House: Read less, more TV.

---

Dr. Gregory House: [House is objecting to Cuddy about Foreman being his new boss] *Chase* killed that woman, and now Foreman's in charge?

Dr. Lisa Cuddy: Yeah, we have a pecking order here; if Cameron kills somebody, Chase takes over. There's a flow chart in the lobby.

---

Dr. Cameron: How would you describe my leadership skills?

Dr. Gregory House: Nonexistent... otherwise, excellent.

---


Dr. Cameron: Why did you hire me?

Dr. Gregory House: Does it matter?

Dr. Cameron: Kind of hard to work for a guy who doesn't respect you.

Dr. Gregory House: Why?

Dr. Cameron: Is that rhetorical?

Dr. Gregory House: No, it just seems that way because you can't think of an answer. Does it make a difference what I think? I'm a jerk. The only thing that matters is what you think. Can you do the job?

Dr. Cameron: You hired a black guy because he had a juvenile record.

Dr. Gregory House: No, it wasn't a racial thing. I didn't see a black guy, I just saw a doctor with a juvenile record. I hired Chase 'cause his dad made a phone call. And I hired you because you are extremely pretty.

Dr. Cameron: You hired me to get into my pants?

Dr. Gregory House: I can't believe that that would shock you. It's also not what I said. No, I hired you because you look good. It's like having a nice piece of art in the lobby.

Dr. Cameron: I was at the top of my class!

Dr. Gregory House: But not *the* top.

Dr. Cameron: I did an internship at the Mayo Clinic!

Dr. Gregory House: You were a very good applicant.

Dr. Cameron: But not the best.

Dr. Gregory House: Would that upset you, really, to think that you were hired for some genetic gift of beauty instead of some genetic gift of intelligence?

Dr. Cameron: I worked very hard to get where I am!

Dr. Gregory House: You didn't have to. People choose the paths that gain them the greatest rewards for the least amount of effort. That's a law of nature, and you defied it. That's why I hired you. You could've married rich, you could've been a model, you could've just shown up and people would've given you stuff - lots of stuff - but you didn't. You worked your stunning little ass off.

Dr. Cameron: Am I supposed to be flattered?

Dr. Gregory House: Gorgeous women do not go to medical school... unless they are as damaged as they are beautiful. Were you abused by a family member?

Dr. Cameron: No!

Dr. Gregory House: Sexually assaulted?

Dr. Cameron: No!

Dr. Gregory House: But you *are* damaged, aren't you?

---

Dr. Cameron: All this hate is toxic.

---

Dr. Robert Chase: How'd you like it if I interfered in your personal life?

Dr. Gregory House: I'd hate it. That's why, cleverly, I have no personal life.

---

Dr. Wilson: I love my wife.

Dr. Gregory House: You certainly love saying it.



---

Dr. Wilson: At least I try.

Dr. Gregory House: Well, as long as you're trying to be good, you can do whatever you want.

Dr. Wilson: And as long as you're not trying, you can say whatever you want.

Dr. Gregory House: So between us we can do anything. We can rule the world!


---

Dr. Cameron: You want me to tell a man whose wife is about to die that she may have cheated on him?

Dr. Gregory House: No, I want you to be polite and let her die.



---
Dr. Gregory House: Chicks dig this [waves cane]

Dr. Gregory House: It's better than a puppy!

---

Dr. Eric Foreman: You assaulted that man!

Dr. Gregory House: Fine. I'll never do it again.

Dr. Eric Foreman: Yes you will.

Dr. Gregory House: All the more reason this debate is pointless.


---


Dr. Cameron: I'm uncomfortable about sex.

Dr. Robert Chase: Well, we don't have to talk about this...

Dr. Cameron: Sex COULD kill you. Do you know what the human body goes through when you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the muscles tense and spasm like you're lifting three times your body weight. It's violent. It's ugly. And it's messy. And if God hadn't made it UNBELIEVABLY fun, the human race would have died out eons ago. [She pauses to catch her breath]

Dr. Robert Chase: [He is speechless]

Dr. Cameron: Men are lucky they can only have one orgasm. Know that women can have an hour long orgasm?

Dr. Eric Foreman: [enters]

Dr. Cameron: [as if nothing had just occurred] Hey Foreman. What's up?


---

Dr. Lisa Cuddy: I need you to wear your lab coat.

Dr. Gregory House: I need two days of outrageous sex with someone obscenely younger than you. Like half your age.


---

Dr. Wilson: Billionaires buy movie studios to get laid. They buy hospitals to get respect.

Dr. Gregory House: And the reason you want respect?

Dr. Wilson: To... get laid.


---

Dr. Cameron: What happened to "Everybody Lies"?

Dr. Gregory House: I lied.

---

Dr. Gregory House: Fine. Have it your way. Immaculate conception.

Susan: Um, what do I do?

Dr. Gregory House: Well, it's obvious - start a religion.

---


Dr. Lisa Cuddy: Your reputation won't last if you don't do your job; the clinic is part of your job. I want you to do your job.

Dr. Gregory House: But as the philosopher Jagger once said "You can't always get what you want."

---

Ramona: Hi. I'm having vaginal pain.
Dr. Gregory House: Pleasure to meet you.

---

Ramona: My OB-GYN died recently. Nice man. Warm hands.
Dr. Gregory House: Not any more.

---

Dr. Gregory House: Overall, drug addicts are idiots

---

Dr. Gregory House: The eyes can mislead, a smile can lie, but the shoes always tell the truth.

Dr. Wilson: They were Prada, which means she has good taste.

Dr. Gregory House: They were not Prada. You wouldn't know Prada if one stepped on your scrotum.

Dr. Wilson: Okay, well... they were nice, pointy


---


Dr. Gregory House: Does your penis hurt?

John Funsten: What? No! Should it?

Dr. Gregory House: No, I thought I'd give you a really inappropriate question. Your lawyers will love it.


---

Dr. Gregory House: McPhearson? Horrible doctor, I heard he tortured kittens.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy: No, McDonald.

Dr. Gregory House: Oh, McDonald? Wonderful Doctor, loves kittens


---

Dr. Wilson: You had the perfect person, and you blew it.

Dr. Gregory House: You saw the shoes!

Dr. Wilson: I'm not talking about her.

Dr. Gregory House: You're talking about Cameron.

Dr. Wilson: I'm talking about every woman you've ever given a damn about.

Dr. Gregory House: Cameron is so not perfect.

Dr. Wilson: Well, nobody's perfect.

Dr. Gregory House: Mother Theresa?

Dr. Wilson: Dead.

Dr. Gregory House: Angelina Jolie?

Dr. Wilson: No medical degree.

Dr. Gregory House: Oh, so now who's being picky


---


Dr. Cameron: [discussing a patient's diagnosis] What about sex?

Dr. Gregory House: Well, it might get complicated. We work together. I am older, certainly, but maybe you like that.

Dr. Cameron: I meant maybe he has neurosyphilis.

Dr. Gregory House: Heh, nice cover.


---

Stacy Warner: If you didn't want me working here, why didn't you just say so?

Dr. Gregory House: I don't want you working right here. In my office. But anywhere else in the building is fine. It's a really big hospital.


---

Dr. Gregory House: Treating illnesses is why we became doctors. Treating patients is what makes most doctors miserable.

---

Jill: My joints have been feeling all loose, and lately I've been feeling sick a lot. Maybe I'm overtraining; I'm doin' the marathon, like, ten miles a day, [House looks tired]
Jill: but I can't seem to lose any weight.
Dr. Gregory House: Lift up your arms. [she does so]
Dr. Gregory House: You have a parasite.
Jill: Like a tapeworm or something?
Dr. Gregory House: Lie back and lift up your sweater. [she lies back, and still has her hands up]

Dr. Gregory House: You can put your arms down.
Jill: Can you do anything about it?
Dr. Gregory House: Only for about a month or so. After that it becomes illegal to remove, except in a couple of states. [he starts to ultrasound her abdomen]
Jill: Illegal?
Dr. Gregory House: Don't worry. Many women learn to embrace this parasite. They name it, dress it up in tiny clothes, arrange playdates with other parasites ...
Jill: Playdates?
Dr. Gregory House: [shows her the ultrasound] It has your eyes. [it's a baby]



---

Dr. Cameron: I'm the only one who's always stood behind you when you've screwed up.

Dr. Gregory House: Why? Why would you support someone who screws up?

Dr. Cameron: Because I'm not insanely insecure, and because I can actually trust in another human being, and I am not an angry, misanthropic son of a bitch.

Dr. Gregory House: I'm sorry. You said you *weren't* angry.



---

Dr. Eric Foreman: You are aware of the Hippocratic oath, right?
Dr. Gregory House: The one that starts, "First, do no harm", then goes on to tell us: no abortions, no seductions, and definitely no cutting of those who labor beneath the stone? Yeah, took a read once. Wasn't impressed.


---

Dr. Wilson: [discussing Dr. Charles] You're just mad because he's closer to a Nobel Prize than you are.
Dr. Gregory House: And yet I've nailed more Swedish babes... crazy, crazy world.


---

Dr. Gregory House: [House has determined a patient is allergic to her newly adopted cat] You're allergic. We can control it with antihistamines, one pill a day.

Mandy: Pills?

Dr. Gregory House: You don't like to swallow? I'm not surprised. Forget the pills, I'll give you a nasal spray.

Mandy: Steroids? Is there something else you can give me?

Dr. Gregory House: Well, if you live by the river, I've got a bag...


---

Dr. Eric Foreman: This guy's been injecting himself how many times a day? All it'd take is one slip of the needle to cause an air embolus.

Dr. Gregory House: So air is keeping him from breathing air. Let's go with that for the irony.


---

Dr. Gregory House: You know me. Hostility makes me shrink up like a... [pauses]
Dr. Gregory House: I can't think of a non-sexual metaphor.

(...)

ÓÍ...?...

Como veio o meu blog aqui parar?...
Mistéééérrrrriósh...
:{ Hum hum...
Monsieur H.Poirot invéshtigarrrá est'assunt'estrrránh'...
Ohlala, quel honeur, quand-même, messieurs'dames!
Merci bien!
;0)

2.4.06

Home, sweet... whatever em post ao contrário!



Pela casa danço aos ritmos de Mark Knopfler, o fabulástico The Ragpicker's Dream oferece-me o supra-sumo: You Don't Know You're Born! Como resistir à batida? Saio da secretária onde escrevo mais um conto sorumbático - isto de ser escritora requer o fingimento de que falava Pessoa e o tom depressivo serve bem aos lusos... - e salto pela casa, atiro o casaco, solto a longa e farta cabeleira ainda húmida do banho, espalho o odor de maçãs verdes em redor, balanço o corpo em consonância (eu, que nem gosto da imbecil Primavera!) e rio, recordo quando dançava horas a fio nos tempos da U.! É a loucura! Rio muito desta tendência para ir envelhecendo (há meses que digo que tenho quase 37 quando faltam ainda mais de três e meio!) e continuar a gostar de quebrar rotinas com pequenas diabruras que ninguém em volta espera... Já que não posso andar veloz no meu carro, ouvirei música o mais alto que possa: a passagem não afectará os moradores que não existem nas montanhas e será ainda mais divertido viajar para o trabalho, coladinha ao oceano. A música é de encher as medidas, a disposição das melhores - agora que os objectivos se encaminham para o seu cible - a qualidade de vida é a planeada, a família estabiliza-se, cresce, tendo-me aumentado o número de sobrinhos por metro quadrado e o meu colo reparte-se a cada vez por gente mais deliciosa! ;0)
O dia iniciou-se preguiçoso, ameaçando mornaceira em céu cinzento: trovoada?
Levantar tarde. Hoje não há serviço religioso: afinal, Deus sempre morou aqui.
Sair à rua: comprar flores amarelas, o jornal (há quanto tempo não compro um?), tomar a meia-de-leite do costume no café do costume, a manteiga do pão derretendo-se ao fundo da língua (gulosa, eu!), os domingueiros retirando carros vagarosos do estacionamento ao longo da minha rua, o senhor idoso que passeia o cão grita-me, acenando com um "Bom dia menina, cada vez mais radiosa!" e é incrível como ainda coro com piropos do melhor teor... Caminho, cabeleira solta na brisa - hoje não me apeteceram aristocracias-de-pose-de-trabalho-em-cabelos-apanhados-"senhora-professora" - sorrio aos pardais, compro mais um cd de Mozart, faço sorrir mais uma balconista com os meus trocadilhos de auto-riso, aceno a mais um ex-aluno (pergunto-me sempre se falhei, em que falhei, se a impressão com que ficaram é a que se espelha no sorriso, terei sido sempre correcta e terei, de facto, ensinado bem, sido justa?...), sigo para a compra de pão fresco, afago um gato que ondula sob os meus dedos cada vez mais magrinhos (quero ser uma velhinha magrinha e graciosa) e se me enrola nos tornozelos, inebriando-me até aos olhos fechados a fundo (cócegas = perigo de erogenia!) e obrigando-me a tratos em voz sussurrada "sacaninha, larga-me as canelas já!", abro o sorriso a um bebé de uns três aninhos que, do colo da avó, me fixa os olhos e me ri para o fundo deles, simpático, como se me chamasse a sorriso igualmente fundo e sentido. Correspondo, mais uma vez deliciada por esta relação mágica com todos os representantes do "Povo Pequenino": não há bebé que me resista às covinhas do riso, sendo incrível como todas as crianças me contam tudo sobre as suas vidas e ficam cúmplices do meu riso de sibila. Adivinho-lhes as almas de anjos que com esta sensitiva ombreiam...
Uma mulher
ciente da beleza
que se expande à sua volta
e em si faz-lhes votos
de um bom resto de domingo:
:0)
Beijos c/ sabor a maresia!

31.3.06

Dia(s) perfeito(s)

Sair do espectáculo, conduzir pela noite, vidros abertos sob a chuva miudinha que goteja no pára-brisas amorenando o meu rosto no retrovisor como um véu de sombras, um choro risonho, soltar os cabelos do estilete, ouvir o Barroco na 2, recordar o teu odor, a tua confiança extrema, na noite em que deitaste a cabeça no meu colo, o meu braço direito rodeando-te para chegar ao manípulo de mudanças. E conduzir devagar, o lado do teu rosto morno sobre o encontro das minhas coxas, o teu perfil que confia, olhos fechados, a minha mão nos teus cabelos, percorrendo-te nuca e orelhas e querer largar o volante e querer refugiar-me contigo num colo, sentir-te morno, murmurante de suaves insanidades, os meus dedos entre os teus dentes, os meus dentes entre os teus dedos e cair, e cair, e cair nessa narcose.
Nunca nada na vida me soube como a confiança do teu rosto oblíquo, a tua entrega, o teu abandono sobre as minhas pernas sentadas no carro a caminho de casa. Ainda te sinto quando me deixas mais saudades. Faltam dez. Dez dias para voltar a oferecer-te o meu colo e dar-te a minha voz em cicios. Esta certeza de que seremos um do outro como não se é de ninguém abrasa-me e serena-me espírito e corpo. O primeiro arde em volutas de desejo; o segundo serena na certeza de ser a casa das tuas mãos, do teu cheiro, da nossa luta vagarosa. Ama-me devagar e terás o paraíso. O meu colo é apenas a ombreira dessa porta.

29.3.06

Da solidão de alguns- parte II

Se aqui chegou pela mão virtual de "Maria do Céu", aka Malapata; alias, RCM; alias, Piu; alias D.A.; alias Mal-amada; alias, cão-de-fila das Amazonas; alias reject, ser vivo não-indutor de vómito por ser tão carente e inspirar piedade aos olhos do Criador, releia o meu post, para que eu não tenha de repetir-me, por favor.
Comentários em blogs de lixo internáutico, só em repeat-mode, a não ser que se seja banido para não contar a verdade...
Continuação de boas noites, mesmo se for um leitor transviado...
Que a Paz do Senhor sempre nos acompanhe e os vermes não nos toquem os pés.
Retiro-me em viagem por uns dias, noblesse oblige.
Oiçam muito a Sade: faz bem à alma! Bênçãos!
:0)

Uma vez é bom, duas melhor ainda

Paradise
Qualquer música de Sade Adu me faz melhor do que um fim-de-semana inteiro!
Danço pela casa: férias, férias, férias! :o)

Diva, pés de bronze, voz de sereia

Sade
No Ordinary Love
(Love Deluxe)

28.3.06

Perniciosa delícia...


Este Homem nunca terá noção dos seus efeitos sobre mim.
Um desperdício...
Rrrrrrrrrrrrr 'nhau!

E isto, o que é?...

.A leitura de um só inaugura as vidas a muitos.
Leitor misterioso diz re-viver ao ler-se no que escrevo.
De vida temporariamente suspensa, descobriu este nicho.
Abrigou-se, estendeu laços. Diz-se irmanado no que sinto.
Diz reconhecer o toque dos seus dedos na pele que não me sente,
adivinhar-me o tom da voz,
sentir-me o hálito quando acorda.
Que estes cabelos cujos reflexos nunca viu são a água klimtiana com tão perversas como doces ondinas.
Quer ser o gato que acaricio, a água que recebo, mãos em concha nas manhãs inaugurais, o longo brinco que aplico à orelha morna, o tom de rebuçado de café nos meus lábios onde poisa o vento.
O velho roble de tronco incerto,
a rugosidade do muro de granito por onde escorro os dedos,
as folhas trémulas na brisa que sonho que sou quando sou eu mesma.
Nunca me viu na autenticidade das luzes cruas das manhãs do dia por nascer;
nas horas de medo ante a ameaça de vida breve dos que mais amo;
nas fissuras de pele, manchas, palidez das noites de cansaço, horas mortiças;
no medo do baque de estar viva, o vento em vagas contra o peito, este estertor que se traz dentro e nos carrega em assombro - o que é tão enorme como existir esmaga-nos de quotidianas minudências... E contudo, e contudo.
Leio poesia. Escrevo-a.
Amasso pão. Como-o.
Escorro água em fios. Sou ela.
Esta aguadilha da boca nas albas é o fio que um dia se quebra,
dúctil em paroxismos,
linfa que se devolva à terra,
olhos em fechamento,
pulsos abertos,
terror da Hora Maior,
mas querer como nunca perceber,
saborear até ao palato a ténue linha divisória entre este chão e o Outro Lado.
Por isso sinto mais: um pé do lado dos vivos; um pé do Outro Lado.
E o meu leitor que pensa que existo, realmente...