SEA OF FACES

The end

2009-10-28T12:32:00.000-07:00

I’m sad to say, but I did not like Back Spacer. That’s not the first time I don’t like a Pearl Jam album. Ok, grunge is dead, but the “sound”, no matter how it was labelled, no matter what demented effect it had in fashion and business (yeah, nothing to do with music…), no matter how dated it might seem, the sound itself was mind-blowing. I think that, to escape the “poser” culture around it, bands tried to run as far from it as they could. PJ was no exception.

As a “reborn” fan, I had the opportunity to go through the whole band’s discography about six years ago, and was a tad disappointed when I found out that sometimes only a couple of songs per album would make my heart jump. When “the Avocado” was released, I had just been to the first PJ concerts in my life, drenched in the emotion of the live experience. The album was a breath of fresh air, whole, furious, brave, breathtaking. Even the “bad songs” had their place in the story the album tells. Even the graphic design tells more than meets the eye (was I the only one to recognize the “singing head” of the Sandman universe?). I listened in tears, in ecstasy. Epiphany.

Well, life took me through other paths and all of a sudden there’s the new album. Listened once. Skipped a couple of songs after the first chords. Riot Act strikes back? Maybe I’m stuck in the past. Maybe I don’t understand evolution. Baby.

But then… Just Breathe. Ok, it’s one of those songs that, if ever played, will be one of Eddie’s solos, when the band is chilling backstage and he plays alone with the guitar and the harmonica. That would be all right, it would be in good company with other masterpieces like Dead Man Walking. Or maybe it’s one of those almost-boring-too-country-ish songs that Eddie writes sometimes. All right with me. But it’s not. It’s a gem. It’s beautiful. Moving. It slides through clichés like a surfboard through maverick waves.

And then… The End. Listened like a hundred times, for more than three hours in a row. Burst into tears. It’s one of the saddest songs I’ve ever listened to. It’s probably one the most beautiful songs Eddie has ever written. And the voice? I really like the way he lets the voice come out hoarse, sort of aspirated, in that almost impossible high pitch progression. That’s totally his own. “I’ll take the blame, but just the same, this is not me…” Was it the arrangement, strings and all, one might ask? Risky, to say the least; it could have turned into the corniest thing ever. But it has not. It adds to the mood of the song. It’s respectful. Many, many, many tears later, my favourite lines: “Before I disappear, whisper in my ear, give me something to echo in my unknown future’s ear.”

All right, I’ll give it a second listen. It might win me over. You know, Pearl Jam saved my life once. Quite literally. For that I’m forever grateful. I’ll love PJ forever, even though I don’t automatically love every single thing that they do.

So, please, do come back to play. I’ll be there, me and my 10C wristband, standing for 12, 13, 14 hours, without eating, without going to the toilet, grabbing the rail, on the right side of the audience. I’ll even take a nap every now and then, head on the rail; the “Polar Bear”, the security guy, will worry about me again, wondering if I’m passing out. I’ll be fine, me and my endless grin and my chart with my song list, when the band begins to play. And I’ll jump, and sing along, and dodge the elbows of those tall people on my head and ribs. I’ll duck when they take some guy out of the crowd over me, the “hole on the rail”. I’ll probably be “rail cushion” to someone again. The hunger, the thirst, the pain, will vanish at some point. I won’t mind the heat or the rain. And when the guys go backstage to rest, I’ll stare at the spotlight when Ed begins to play The End on the guitar, no fancy strings needed, more intimate before a crowd than he would be if he were playing at someone’s porch. And I’ll cry my eyes out. Cry with my eyes open, so I won’t miss a thing.

Musical Performance: Pearl Jam (06/01/09)

2009-06-19T15:54:00.001-07:00

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the heart of midlothian

2008-07-01T12:36:00.000-07:00

by deav - 12 mar 2008

“tear my chest and grab out my heart
kiss it, lick it, toss it, stare
step on, dance on, spit on my heart
i won’t have a heart to care.”

flashback

2008-07-01T12:34:00.000-07:00

by deav - 27 jun 2007

She was in light spirit. They were in the other room, it was clean, the bed soft with the rattling of recently washed bedsheets. The window was open and the clear starry sky could be seen, no neighboring buildings from that angle. He smelled of fresh soap and cologne, snoring by her side. His hand touched her arm in his sleep and moved forward to her waist. It became slowly aware of her, bringing him closer to consciousness. He moaned and moved his head to kiss her on the neck.

Why not? She thought, not particularly in the mood, wondering that it would mean another bath after. It was hot, anyways.

It was still quite simple, then. She could not foresee how harder it would become as years went by. He was gentle, as usual. He had not become hesitant, then frustrated, then angry and rough. Yet.

But even as she slowly began to fall in that state of abandonment closely followed by the strain of building pleasure, she could fell that something was wrong.

She suddenly realized that she was panting, not out of desire, but out of fear. She wondered in slow motion that he would not notice, he could not tell the lines carved between her eyebrows and her growing moans now from her usual face of lust. Unless she told him. She tried to wash away the escalating sensation of anguish. Why now? She thought, now that everything seemed to be all right? Maybe she could just bear it, for the sake of starting over. Because she wanted everything to be well again.

But she just could not. All of a sudden she realized she had stopped breathing. Behind eyes shut there were images floating, lurking and she knew it was not about him, it was not his fault. She did not want to see the images, memories of things she was unaware of having experienced. But she could not open her eyes, she would have to look at him and she could not look at him, not now. But neither could she just bear it, she could not control the urge to push him away. And she did.

But he did not realize it was not the repulsion that comes from unbearable passion, not this time.

“Please, stop!” She did not know if she had said it aloud. She began to struggle and squirm. He groaned startled when she punched and kicked.

“What?!” Still panting, he released her, scared, worry washing away with paleness the flush of pleasure.

She stopped with a halt, eyes wide-open, breathing heavily, tears still rolling by the side of her face into her ears.

Was she screaming? NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO! She remembered she had.

“What happened? Did I hurt you?” He tried to touch her but she cringed away.

“I don’t know.” She just pulled the covers up to her breasts and rolled over, her back to him. She just wished she could explain; say that she was sorry, that it was not about him. But now she could barely stand his voice, his heat, let alone look at him.

He did not understand, but at least let her be, jumping out of the bed and dashing out of the room.

She just wished she could vanish. She swallowed back the bile. She did not dare to close her eyes again, lest the images would come back. Oh, tears. Now she could keep them open and yet not see.

* * *

scribblings II

2008-07-01T12:28:00.000-07:00

by deav - June 2007

M’eudail,

I put down the book for a while. I went to the kitchen for water and it just popped in my mind: “I need you.” I wonder what you’re doing now. Sleeping? Looking up at the oak beams in the ceiling, unable to sleep with restlessness not figured out? Dozing off in the leather armchair by the dying fire in the library, a book resting on your lap? Or is it too hot already for a fire, I wonder? But you left the window open. A gust of chill might eventually cool your cheeks and wake you with a slight shiver, as dawn breaks. I wish I were there to ease the crease between your brows with a kiss. And rub the tip of my finger gently on the deep red mark the rim of your glasses carved on the bridge of your nose.

“I need you” struck me with a shock, you know. I’ve been doing my best for a long time not to need anyone. I hope you will understand that it came then as a way of being at peace with solitude. And dealing with the dread of depending and being depended on. The need to be unattached. Free to go – where, I wonder?. But “I need you” comes now with a different meaning I can’t quite make out. All I know – feel – is, it’s huge, overwhelming. Scary. Like walking through fire. But I’m willing to do it if it takes me to you.

I hold my breath and shut my eyes and say a prayer for you. Sweet dreams, m’eudail. That feathery brush on your cool lips? It’s just the ghost of my kiss.

scribblings (pencil tip rest)

2008-07-01T12:23:00.000-07:00

by deav - 11 jun 2007

i can’t read anymore. it’s too painful. the smoke with a scent of vanilla burns my mouth and the rim of my lips. someone outside is boasting a championship. futile. it’s beautiful when the smoke goes up in perfect rings that shimmer and vanish in bluish swirls. when i blow out it’s yellowish and uglier, haze hanging beneath the lamp. it just does not linger enough and there’s no reason for another. the last sip of cool water, and the taste of vanilla remains fresh and pleasant.

i don’t want to think of it; yet the thought not thought hangs as much as the water that does not sink as fast as it should. there was rapture earlier brought by invisible hands and invisible lips on mine. i miss you so much. i write and shut my eyes.

there’s one thing i’m sure of: i have to go. through pain and disappointment. i have to go. i have to go. tic-tic. i shut my eyes.

i have to go. i boldface the i and sigh. tic-tic. i hope the answer comes with slumber. i hope i can remember. i shut my eyes.

i fill the cup again. i could have the pleasure again, easy in the cleft between my thighs in spite of myself. should i save it for when the hands are hot and the lips are real?

my hand hurts as i force the writing. i can hardly read through painful scribblings and letters erased. is it sleep, then? tic-tic. i snort but the lump in the throat brings the water back. go to bed. i fondle my knuckles dry. i drool on the page. go to bed. i shut my eyes. what i do next i don’t write.

* * *

round lunch time I - II

2008-07-01T12:09:00.000-07:00

by deav - 11 mar 2008

Round lunch time

As I walked in she was already there. She seemed small in the waiting room crowded with furniture too big for the tiny space. It crossed my mind that it had not changed in thirty years, as far as I could remember: the same dark oak desk opposite the entrance door, the pair of two-seat leather couches facing each other, the low wooden table with a glass top placed between the couches in a way that made moving quite hard. The twelve year-old I once was called it “the penguin dance” and laughed in silence as people did their best to walk sideways, hopping from left to right in the narrow gap, to sit down at last with a grunt or a sigh. The long-legged were the funniest. Now I was the long-legged hopping penguin.

Damn. I ventured a slant and thanked God she was not paying attention, too busy trying to wipe her red nose with one hand while tucking a dirty tissue in her bag with the other.

“Good afternoon”, I said, just to be polite. She raised a pair of red tired eyes to me with a nod, an effortful faint smile partially seen under the new tissue, the other quickly tucked in the bag. Poor thing. I tried to concentrate on the magazine that seemed the newest one among the others on the table. Wow, Pearl Jam is playing next week? How could I have missed that? Oh, ok, last year, I was there. Damn, Dr. Mac should really upgrade his library.

She coughed, coughed and coughed again, in spasms, as if having difficulty in getting the air in her lungs. As she fussed about in the bag the empty box of tissues fell down through the gap between the couch and the table.

“Er… There’s a toilet… That door on your right…”

She raised the wet eyes again in a mixture of despair and gratitude and made her own penguin dance towards the toilet. Gracefully, I had to admit. Nice ass, I could not avoid thinking.

As I went through last year’s news, one ear was paying attention to the noises coming from the toilet. Running water… Cough, cough… Cough, cough… Man, the woman knows how to blow a nose for sure. I wondered why I was not disgusted; maybe because I had been in her shoes growing up. Dr. Mac would fix her too.

“A little better?” I asked as she came out of the toilet, hopping gracefully again towards the couch and sitting with a sigh.

“Yes, thank you.” Visibly she was not, but her effort was quite moving. Her lids were swollen and probably burning. Fever only made her eyes brighter. Dark blue. Hmm…

“Don’t worry, Dr. Mac will fix you in no time.”

“I hope so…” She gave that faint smile back to me again for only one second, reaching inside the bag for the new stash of tissues. Then she just put on what I use to call a subway look and sank in the leather, miserably trying to control the flood from her nose.

As I picked up another magazine and went through what was news a year and a half ago, I had to admit that she was beautiful. Not particularly hot, certainly not the big rack type. The golden light from the long narrow window above Mrs. Kent’s oak desk gave her brown hair a dark copper tone.

Where is the old cow, anyways? I had told her I only had a little time before a meeting; it was only a follow-up appointment, for Christ’s sake. She was probably inside the exam room with him, debriefing the last patient.

Great legs. I swear I tried not to stare. She looked younger than she probably was. A little younger than myself, I calculated. Not married… Not at present, probably divorced. I wondered if she had kids… No. And why was I wasting time wondering about her again? There was something about her. Vulnerability? Well, she looked quite vulnerable now, all swollen and sore. Maybe she was just another crazy woman who had driven her ex-husband mad. The bitch.

Man, get a grip. She is not “her”. Damn. Those pretty eyes could not lie. But I had been lied to by pretty eyes before.

“John, my lad! Tae wha’ do I owe the pleasure of yer visit?”

“Dr. Mac, hi, you asked me to come as soon as I finished the treatment…”

“Och, aye. Come in, lad.”

I could feel it when she trembled.

“Er… Dr. Mac, I think this nice lady here needs you more than I do… She can go in now, I can wait…”

“Verra nice, then! Dinna fash, lad, it wilna be loung!” Yes, Dr. Mac, I know, not more than a couple of hours, I thought trying to conceal a laugh.

“Come in, lassie!”

I almost climbed the glass tabletop to grab her arm as she struggled to stand up. Or carry her inside in my arms. But I did not.

“Thank you, sir. You’re awfully kind”, she said in a whisper, a broader smile on her face of relief.

Man, you are fucking beautiful… I was afraid I had said it out loud but what came out was simply “Don’t mention it.” And I watched her walk inside with him as if she were entering a sanctuary.

I penguin-danced back to the couch, a stubborn smile making my jaw hurt. It had been a while since I had felt like smiling like that. I sat down, sighed and searched for my mobile.

“Greg? Hi! Er… Something came up and I have to re-schedule our meeting… Really, you too? … Great! … Five is good for you? ... Five thirty is fine. See you. Bye.”

As I tucked the phone in my pocket it hit me: I was feeling relaxed, invigorated, actually. Somehow I knew that everything would be all right now. Strange…

Round lunch time II

She had been there for a while when he walked in. Right, she thought. Of course it had to be a handsome man, sure, just now that her nose looked and behaved like a big red dripping tap. Damn. It was probably the mould, that old carpet must be crowded with acarids. She could almost feel them crawling up her legs. Long boots had been a good choice. And jeans. She closed her brown velvet jacket round her neck and quickly replaced the wet tissue for a new one. I should have bought another box. Damn.

She averted her look as he clumsily made his way to the leather couch opposite her. Funny. And kinda cute. But she was not going to laugh; she was not really in the mood for laughing, not after the last sleepless nights sitting up on the bed to prevent the coughing attacks, the headache, the fever, the running nose, the pain all over her body.

“Good afternoon.”

She was sure he had just said that to be polite. She nodded and forced a smile under the next tissue. And she was really grateful when he grabbed a magazine and tried to look really interested in last year’s news. She would not venture a read this time. Old magazines plus doctor’s office equals acarids. The last thing she needed now was a sneezing crisis. Or another session of coughs.

She looked around. Although the pieces of furniture were too big for the waiting room, she had to admit that they were beautiful. She wondered that the oak desk must be two hundred years old. The leather crackled beneath her – and him, for that matter - every time she moved, as if it were new and had been recently polished. Polish. Oh, no, the cough! She screamed in her mind trying desperately to hold back the spasm and get some air in her lungs.

Fuck me. She just could not believe when she realized that the box of tissues was empty. She searched hopelessly in the bag for that last single piece of tissue that could be hiding under her wallet. No. Ok, she could try to reuse the ones she had tucked in there. Eew!

She was about to try to rescue the empty box that of course had fallen down that impossible gap between the couch and the table – what nut, sadistic person would place those humongous pieces of furniture in that impossible fashion?! – when the handsome man came to her aid:

“Er… There’s a toilet…” - where, for the love of the Goddess? – “That door on your right…”

She raised her wet eyes to him with a mixture of despair and gratitude and made her way through that ridiculous half meter towards the toilet as graciously as she could. At least she would preserve her dignity. Go ahead, check my butt, you pervert. At least that part of her was presentable. She locked the door too thin for her taste and tried to control the attack. Fuck it, this is a doctor’s office, I’m fucking sick, I just can’t be a fucking lady now! She was really mad at handsome man when she gave her nose a deep and thorough blow. She stared at the reddish-green thing in the sink with disgust. My Goddess, I’ll never be able to kiss anybody again, ever, for the rest of my life! She sighed and fiercely attacked the tissue dispenser, staring at her running nose that seemed to defy her from the other side of the mirror. Now I’m ready for you. She looked at her wasted face, tucked a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear and felt like crying. You’re a mess, woman. She wished she could just hide there, at least until handsome man was gone, maybe let her nose drip straight into the sink. No? Go, woman, be brave.

“A little better?” he asked as she hopped back to her couch.

“Yes, thank you”, she replied through a clogged nose. Beautiful baritone…

“Don’t worry, Dr. Mac will fix you in no time.”

“I hope so.” She smiled faintly. He’d better. She rushed to get another tissue as her nose started running again. And now her eyelids were burning. Fever. She knew the symptoms too well. She sank in the leather and surrendered to a terrible feeling of exhaustion. She had always had those episodes, but it had all got worse since the divorce. New home, new job… She knew she was turning all the stress into illness. All of a sudden she felt ashamed of her private tantrum against handsome man. She had to admit he had tried to be nice. He was not him, for the Goddess’s sake. By now he would be quite mad at her, actually blaming her for being sick. She wondered it had been a blessing after all that they had not had kids. Fifteen years. She knew she looked younger than she was, but lately she had been feeling a lot much older. She wondered if handsome man was checking her, but she was too tired to worry. Ok, did he really stare as she crossed her legs? Or was she hallucinating? The fever, perhaps…

But he was really handsome. Grey eyes. Sad eyes. She could tell that he had suffered, that crease between his eyebrows could not lie. Tissue after tissue provided good shelter for a closer watch: light brown hair turning grey on the sides; tall; broad shoulders; strong arms visible beneath the sleeves of the suit; business man, probably self-made; a little older than herself; she could bet he was divorced. But his most striking feature was the eyes. Sweet, softening the grave expression of the square jaw, the nose almost too long, the hard thin lips. Lips… Kiss…

“John, my lad! Tae wha’ do I owe the pleasure of yer visit?”

“Dr. Mac, hi, you asked me to come as soon as I finished the treatment…”

“Och, aye. Come in, lad.”

For no particular reason she trembled. It could be that she was shivering. It could be the perspective of another long wait. It could be that he would go away and she would never see him again. Damn fever!

“Er… Dr. Mac, I think this nice lady here needs you more than I do… She can go in now, I can wait…” She held her breath.

“Verra nice, then! Dinna fash, lad, it wilna be loung! Come in, lassie!” Handsome man made an almost imperceptible funny face.

“Thank you, sir. You’re awfully kind”, she smiled and sighed with relief. I love you, you’re my hero, I want to marry you and be the mother of your four children. She was afraid she had said it out loud. Crazy fever!

“Don’t mention it.” He had the most beautiful smile and she thought that he was actually glowing. Blessed fever!

A smile frozen in her face made her jaw hurt. She wondered it had been a while since she had felt like smiling that way. She suddenly felt light and safe and entered the office with that nice old doctor as if it were a sanctuary. Somehow she knew that everything would be all right now. Good…

* * *

pictures in mind

2008-07-01T11:54:00.000-07:00

by deav - 28 feb 2008

The rain floated around her like foam. She pulled up the collar of the leather coat and folded the lapels over the scarf already rolled up around her neck. It was cold, but that was exactly what she had been hoping for. The woolen cap down to the eyebrows would have to do; she would not open the umbrella again.

They had just walked ahead, leaving her behind. They were probably used by now to her compulsion for tiny little flowers growing on every roadside. There were many here, scattered on the bushes that showed above the stonewalls along the way. At last. She closed her eyes to enjoy the silence of almost wilderness; she was disturbed too soon, though. The roar of an engine in the distance was louder than the buzzing of the midges, the flapping of wings, the occasional chirp hidden by the leaves, when the wind was too strong, shaking the higher branches. Eyes still closed, she lifted her head and breathed in the flowery scent. She tried to identify beneath the overall green all the strange notes the soft rain extracted from the landscape, so alien to her. Ozone. Peat. Salt. Smoke. Honey, perhaps? Something smelled red.

There was laughter from somewhere down below. She was surprised to see that the concrete pavement turned into a pebbly pathway around the bend, leading downwards. And that the tall oak she had seen from the top of the road actually hid a breathtaking view.

“Ah…” she sighed, coming to a halt at the top of the soft slope. There it was, again, the feeling she had been experiencing continuously since they had arrived, that she could only call awe. She went down slowly, her heart beating fast. She bit her lower lip, she would not cry in front of them. Soon her feet touched the slippery surface of the rocky shore.

“Watch your step, it’s slippery there,” he said, and she was grateful again for his care, and somewhat disturbed. He made her feel that way, she was aware of that by now. She gave a shrug.

“Ok.” She went on cautiously, closer to the waterline, until she had the whole view.

It was a small bay. Actually, she was not so sure they were not trespassing; it could well be someone’s backyard. While they played and laughed, she put on her landscape face and shut them out. She wanted to keep that place carved in her memory. The line where the bay met the grey-green bushy hill on her left. The narrow band of rocky beach. Moist black stones beneath her feet, covered with seaweed that smelled like caviar, in dark shades of yellow and brown; and floating cushions bigger than she had ever seen. They were having fun popping the airbags like in those plastic wrappings. There were trees to her right. And, beyond, the point where the bay met the open water that she could see with her mind’s eyes. The water mirror lay in shades of lead, where more seaweed floated like grass around the small boat; it seemed that only the towrope prevented it from going adrift.

Her eyes moved slowly up. She held her breath when she saw the black shaded reflex of the moors beyond, as if for the first time. And she exhaled when silvery clouds emerged dramatically from yonder. They kept on laughing and she just wanted to cry, of joy, of gratefulness. She knew that they could not understand. Maybe he could, but she was not sure about who he really was. As she stood there, looking in the face of wonder, it became clear that she had no right to try to find out. But it did not really matter. All she could do was accept his kindness as another thing to be grateful for.

She closed her eyes. The image of that special place was vivid enough in her mind. She could go now.
She opened her eyes and reeled on the slipping stones towards them and smiled to herself. The only bright color in the whole black and white scene was the red of his scarf.

arrange something

2008-07-01T11:47:00.000-07:00

by deav - 27 feb 2008

SCREEEEESH … DRUUMM!

She trembled violently and opened her eyes. Panting, heart beating fast, she was disoriented at first, in the dark. Someone was screaming and shouting outside, but at first it felt like a nightmare.

Fuck, she thought, lying back down, still shaking and nauseous with her heart in her throat. She tried to focus her ear above the sound of the fan. Someone was cursing really loud; to her it meant that nobody had been seriously hurt. She took a deep breath and turned to the side.

“Fuck,” she said low, when she accidentally saw the alarm clock: 4 am, universal insomnia time; wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night time; cry-yourself-to-sleep time; and, apparently, wake-up-trembling-because-of-the-sound-of-a-car-crash time. Sometimes it was a gunshot. She could go on and on about 4 am, but she just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Fuck,” she grunted, knowing that going back to sleep would not be so easy. She rolled to her back and spread arms and legs. Eyes adjusted to the dark, the streetlights made the room annoyingly illuminated. The noise of the fan was just as annoying. She snorted, irritated.

And then she sneezed. Of course, it was hot, but the artificial wind against her naked skin made her shiver. There was the dust, too.

I have to vacuum the room, she thought, rolling to the other side and wrapping herself in the sheet. On the weekend. Maybe clean the top of the wardrobe. Change bedclothes too. Maybe she could finally clear the armoire and give all the empty folders to her nieces. After all, they’re plastic, good quality, for school. But then she would have to clean the vacuum cleaner… That was no problem. But for the clothes recently washed, she would have to take them from the hanger and keep them before cleaning the dust bag, otherwise they would get dusty, because of the wind. It always winds. She remembered the old house, the windstorms that used to shake the window frames. And that mini tornado, she had spent the night on the couch, grabbing her purse, watching tree branches fly by the window in the living room. On the eleventh floor.

“Shit,” she whispered, when she remembered that she had to repair the rack hanger in the wardrobe, collapsed under the weight of the clothes that now piled up on the inner shelf. Was she doing the same thing here, she wondered, let the house crumble down? It seemed the two houses were twins, it seemed that they were somehow connected, in a spooky way; the new one had developed problems in the same areas as in the old one. That leak on the bathroom ceiling. The clogging in the lock of the front door. Windows that don’t lock. Useful things piling up in the service room for future use. But she did not want to think about that. She had to sleep.

She turned to the other side to face the fan, feeling hot all of a sudden. Maybe it was time to give the old furniture for donation. She was feeling suffocated, as if things were cluttering around her. She didn’t need the rocking chair. Or the colossal bookshelf/tv rack. It was about time to change the couch, too. Yes, just get rid of it. She could give away the books too; and the cds, her brother-in-law would be thrilled.

“Good plan,” she mumbled, pulling the sheet to her shoulders. She forced the lids shut, trying to ignore the dim. That old mattress in the service room would have to go, definitely. She could assemble the single bed again in the spare room and use a futon for mattress. And the couch would go to the living room. Without the bookshelf, she would need another piece of furniture for the tv set. She wondered if that good store was still open, they had lovely pieces. Maybe this time there would be enough money to buy the crystal closet she’s always dreamed of, to keep her trinkets, stones, crystal jars, candles. Her hourglass collection, of course.

“Right,” she yawned, rolling again to the other side, grabbing the sheet by her breast but leaving the feet out. Maybe this way she could have friends for dinner; use that book of Greek recipes at last. It would be nice to have people in the house other than the cable guy or the doorman. Maybe he would come and she would not be ashamed of the mess.

“Not again,” she said out loud, opening her eyes. She sighed and closed them again slowly, holding back a stubborn tear. She knew that he would never come. She cuddled herself and cried, deeply, quietly. No one would hear her with the noise of the fan. Next thing she would wake up with the maddening sound of the alarm clock, not even noticing that she had fallen asleep. As usual.

twelve words

2008-07-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

twelve words - 03 oct 2007
by deav

mark, social, spark, flaw, illuminate, embark, follow, school, rule, knuckles, lady, worn

another day breaks
as sunbeams spark
i think of you
like some daily rule

dreams illuminate
the old car park
i think of you
it’s somehow new

is it a social flaw
to cry as you embark?
i wave to you
like sending you to school

another day worn
that old shadows mark
i think of you
i’m the lady of fool

scraped knuckles ache
stain the wall in the dark
i think of you
if i could follow you...

2007-01-26T12:47:00.000-08:00

Ben Harper and Donavon Frankenreiter in Rio (Claro Hall - Jan 25th, 2007)

i have to bear witness to the transcendent event i took part in last night, when i saw Ben Harper and Donavon Frankenreiter play in Rio. yes, i've been a somewhat distant admirer of Ben since "Excuse me Mr.", i got the album “Diamonds On The Inside”, i was thrilled when he sang with Pearl Jam at the Madson Square Garden in 2003 (PJ's "Indifference" and "With my own two hands" as a tag for PJ's Daughter), i was aware that my favorite song was "She's only happy in the Sun". also i think "Free" is a nice song. ok. but nothing could have prepared me for what i was about to experience.

Donavon played first and i was blown away; the man goes way beyond "Free": an amazing blues/soulman, great guitar player, beautiful voice. and a kind of gentleness, of modesty, like he felt a little awkward for being literally acclaimed by the crowd, like "you know, man, that's just these things i play". i don't know, that's what i felt. i became an instant fan. one hour was not enough.

worthy of note was the performance of guests, two members of a famous brazilian rock band, Kid Abelha: Paula Toller (vocals) and George Israel (sax).

when Ben came on stage, the first thing that struck me was his seriousness. what could be perceived at first as some lack of interaction with the crowd, later on revealed itself as a profound respect for the music and this genuine spiritual way of addressing a song, like each one of them was something sacred. for about three hours, give and take, Ben and the Innocent Criminals just pushed the boundaries of what is considered a "jam". the man is really a monster of the slide. every song comes from somewhere deep inside of him, he sings with his body, his heart and soul.

the show ended and nobody in the audience left. after what seemed too long, Ben came back for the encore. he played two accoustics, just him and the guitar, this halo of light around him. 8000 people singing along. really, no-one wanted to leave. the band came back and all of a sudden Ben was literally preaching to the crowd! he left the mic, went to the edge of the stage and with only the power of his voice he sang. the band playing really low. the crowd willing to scream and he asking for silence. and he kept singing. i can tell, the man had the Holy Spirit in him. unbelievable.

the highlights were "Get up, Stand up", with a brazilian flag on the back wall of the stage and "Diamonds on the inside", with Donavon singing together.

after that, the band remained on stage and Ben said some words of thank you. i could tell that the experience had been as intense for him as it had been for me. he said sorry for not speaking our language, said that he would try to express how grateful he was. he said "you're the soul of the soul". he was amazed by the way "we played so many different things and you just went along", his hand moving like a wave. then they all held a brazilian flag together.

they were really happy. the bass player was the happiest, because people just loved him, his playing and his beautiful voice, and they kept calling him "Tim Maia", a famous and really missed brazilian musician.

i was in awe last night and have been in this state of joy ever since. i feel like i had one of those rare moments when you realise you just took one step ahead into becoming yourself. and for that i'm forever grateful.

2007-01-15T10:17:00.000-08:00

land of the blind (by deav)
Rio, Jan 2007

if you think you're safe
up your ivory tower
know there’s a greater power
locks won’t keep them out

if your feet is on the ground
you go on the simple way
take a good look around
that won’t keep them out

by or against the law
steel walls turned to straw
they’ll get your head down anyway

reason is just no use
you think you got nothing to lose
they’ll rape your women anyway

if you live by your belief
go on the righteous way
you just can’t keep your peace
faith won’t keep them out

if you fight to make a change
take justice in your hands
beware that in the end
you don’t become “them”

hero or heavy hand
no matter which side you stand
they’ll kill your children anyway

ideas misguided as flags
another turn of the hourglass
they’ll burn your poets anyway…

* * *

2006-12-08T06:40:00.000-08:00

blue (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2006

a late tide brings me crumbs of a song
i think of you as i sing along
my memory tells me what i know that is true
you’re still my favorite shade of blue

since you’ve been gone (well, you never really came)
my life goes on pretty much the same
every time i try to change my way
it’s like sneezing on an ashtray
you know?

time has a way of making ways shorter
time has a way of making things smaller
of making sweeter the pain
and me fall in love again

i fall in love with ghosts of dead men
always either too early or too late
but till the day that i die
you’ll be my favorite reason to cry…

a movie comes with a year delay
i think of you as i watch it today
my heart reminds me of that moment of truth
you’re still my favorite shade of blue

time has a way…

my favorite shade of blue…

* * *

2006-07-13T08:08:00.000-07:00

rima (deav)
Rio, Jul 2006

vida torta
esconde
engana
em coma
atrás da porta
trancada
ninguém vê
a dor que corta
o sonho
o fio que corta
a carne
a faca que corta
um pedaço maior de torta
vida torta
que vida
estou morta.
e acabaram as palavras que rimam.

2006-07-10T08:07:00.000-07:00

linhas azuis (deav)
Rio, Jul 2006

“eu sou um rio”
entre a vigília e o sonho
vieram as palavras
e há muito não vinham assim
sem o filtro.
“eu sou o leito por onde corre...”
vou lembrar amanhã
mas tantas vezes esqueci
que por medo levantei
era espantoso demais
para ignorar
nua, no escuro
escrevi nas linhas azuis
mais sobre as palavras
do que elas mesmas...
perdi-as de todo jeito
“eu sou o rio
eu sou o leito
a fonte jorra
das profundezas
de mim mesma
afinal.”

2006-07-07T09:02:00.000-07:00

home (by deav)
Rio, Mai 2006
(just lyrics)

when it rains it’s good
cause they won’t go out in the street
so i’m not scared
but when it rains
curtains get sucked outside
and clothes take longer to dry

my body still hurts from the past
or hurts already for the new
forgotten history in a box
clutter in the second room

out of the cave
time changed by a change of space
hopefully not a cage
life changed by a change of pace

when it’s hot it’s bad
my feet get swollen, i can’t sleep
and i sweat
but when it’s hot
my hands don’t hurt when i play
and clothes are dry the next day

i bump into furniture misplaced
exchange the old for the new
forgotten cutlery in a box
clutter in the second room

riding the wave
time changed by a change of place
truthfully not of age
life changed by a touch of grace

* * *

2006-06-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

hey (by deav)
Rio, Mai-Jun 2006
(just lyrics)

hey Bob
how you’re doing?
hope i’m not intruding
i heard a song today
it touched me deep inside
and got me thinking

i don’t know you, i won’t pretend
just got your vision in my eyes
i won’t say i understand
just saw your words among the lies

no i won’t jump on your roof
dance naked in the backyard
don’t need your signature for proof
i’ll try not to make it hard

i don’t want to be led or to follow
the undecided messiah
nor the man of constant sorrow
give my solitude for hire

i just come to say hi
i just come to say thanks
for once more i can fly
no more crawl on the river bank

hey Bob,
still dealing
with this man that you’re building?
i just wanna say
heard a hundred songs today
dust inside i’ve been cleaning

i’ve been building myself too
some may say that i’m too late
well, better late than never, it’s true
i build my road, won’t drown in fate

let me listen to your song again
let the poetry overflow
for deaf were my ears back then
never really listened low

now slowly comes this song
many nights i’ve been dreaming
it comes softly, but strong
it comes humming, not screaming

i just sing to say hi
just to say “i love you so”
if you ever wonder why
all i can say is “i don’t know” (“that is so”)

* * *

2006-05-25T15:06:00.000-07:00

dead soldiers dreams (by deav)
Rio, Mai 2006
(just lyrics)

in pieces in dirt they lie
made mud by blood and tears
like in sleep they die
sweet faces hold no fear

lives taken no longer a burden
on their shoulders, for their souls
have carried them, and under
a bruised sky death wave flows

can the open eyes that blindly stare
at nothing, visions hold still
of past sunsets and loving care
and dreams as unlikely as real?

in shallow honor they perished, but fear
not forgiveness should they
a voice of compassion to millions of ears
sings reckoning at the dawn of the day

it sings of dead soldiers dreams
of waste and suicide, dragons and waves
but of love and hope it also sings
of heart and desire where life stays

* * *

writer's prompt 03/20 - 03/26

2006-03-22T14:15:00.000-08:00

"if the world would end on thursday, march 23rd..."

i've been thinking about this a lot, between boxes of old documents, boxes of books and suitcases loaded with clothes, since i got this phone call from my mother. the same old story i've been hearing for 20 years, the sea will rise and wash away the coast. now that i 've moved to this beautiful new apartment... well, i keep having images in my mind of the water coming up to the 5th floor loaded with garbage and cockroaches and swimming rats and getting in through the kitchen, because it's open to the outside. but i won't see that because i'll be at work, in the black tower, and i'll watch everything from the top. maybe i should take my mother's advice and pack and go to her house in the mountains tomorrow. or go to my sister's house in the upland. maybe i could get crazy and eat, drink, smoke, fuck as much as i want because the world will end. maybe i could buy everything i want on credit and spend my last days listening PJ bootlegs i've been saving for, drinking ice vodka and eating chocolate. thinking about it, if the world ended, i wouldn't have to spend money on a wardrobe, wouldn't have to give half my savings to the government as income tax, and wouldn't have to worry about the gas company bothering me and the fact that the winter is coming and i don't have gas at home. i wouldn't have to worry that i'm getting older and that i'll never be loved again. but i'll probably just go on as if thursday was a day like any other. choose to believe in that other medium, the guy who told the american government the location of Saddam Hussein's hideaway (and who is now sueing Washington for the US$25 million reward), at least he said the world will end only in 2012. then i would have time to have my band. my perfect companion would have time to arrive in my life. i could buy the new PJ album and go to a PJ show one more time. but... now i realize, what am i saying? everyday is the end of the world for someone... many days almost were the end of my world, only depending on a step more on the street, by the window sill, one more pill, one fine cut on the wrist. and my world has ended many more times before, at every lie, every disappointment, every injustice, every humilliation, every act of lack of love. it really doesn't matter. whatever.

untitled (change)

2006-03-15T10:49:00.000-08:00

untitled (change) (by deav)
Rio, Mar 2006
(just lyrics)

"walk the same path..."
for the last time
next time no matter if it's wet or dry
i'll be gone
moving ahead
on another path

strange
when it comes to change
it's the same things
yet nothing is the same...

throw stale memories away
find memories lost in clutter long ago
sometimes to realize
there's no reason to make them stay

pack a lighter pack
though it's not light enough
to carry on my back

unpack to a bigger space
how long until it becomes
and again ceases to be my place?

* * *

true

2006-01-13T12:51:00.000-08:00

i told you i’m true
as everything i said
if you don’t believe me
i don’t mind to swear

i won’t swear by the moon
its inconstancy rules the tides
i won’t swear by the sky
cause skies are doomed to fall
i won’t swear by the stars
they all eventually fade
i won’t swear by the universe
cause it expands to the end
i won’t swear by time
cause it doesn’t exist
i won’t swear by my life
cause it’s temporary
and i don’t care much about it now

i could swear by change
the only immutable thing
i could swear by music
the most sacred thing
but i'll swear by true love
cause it’s eternal
so by true love i swear
i am nothing but true
to you.

* * *

the floor – a journey through heaven and hell

2006-01-02T13:25:00.000-08:00

the floor – a journey through heaven and hell

Condomínio da D. - Porto Alegre, 27 Nov 2005 - tarde

conheci a galera do RS de Poa e SP! teve o churrasco do pai do L. na casa da D. cheguei, deixei a mala no hotel e fui pra lá. foi muito legal, o pessoal é muito divertido. uma parte da galera do Rio também veio. é muito legal poder falar de Pearl Jam e todo mundo te entender. é como encontrar uma tribo perdida... e fazer parte de alguma coisa.

Blue Tree Millenium, Porto Alegre, 28 Nov 2005 – madrugada

tomorrow is the day
a long awaited dream
comes my way
though it seems
it’s hard to believe
tomorrow is the day

i hold back the feeling
i wait to exhale
i’d better say
i swallow the scream
cause it’s hard to believe
tomorrow is the day

it’s been a long journey
to get me here today
those things i’ve been yearning … (unfinished)

notas do caderninho:

12:00 – shopping Praia de Brisas – Banana Records – almoço com a galera. vimos Marky Ramone no shopping! (algo me disse que ele ia tocar no show!)

14:13 –tô aqui na fila de distribuição de pulseiras do 10C, no Gigantinho. a galera já fez uns cartazes, o clima ta bem legal. tô ficando tensa, aqui o ponteiro do relógio não anda... está um dia lindo, sol, nem tá tão quente (na sombra, né?). esperar...

14:40 – a banda acabou de chegar no aeroporto. quase que os meninos do rio viram, coisa de meia-hora...

15:... – peguei a pulseira!

16:10 – o R. trouxe o ingresso de Curitiba! a galera fez uma vaquinha e compramos um ingresso pra ele com um cambista...

? – o portão vai abrir pro 10C em 20 minutos. o R. chegou e trouxe as camisetas da banda. o segurança mal-encarado (ah, tadinho, é o Jake, o “urso polar”, gente boa...) pegou e disse que ia entregar... dali a pouco a Kerensa veio agradecer a camiseta e tirou uma foto muito maneira da galera.

mesmo lugar, 29 nov 2005 – madrugada – são duas da manhã, tô sentada na cama do hotel. tô usando minha camiseta preta com o stickman (não é original oooops). eu tento lembrar de tudo, mas a dor, a fome e a falta de sono me deixaram entorpecida. bom, eu sobrevivi!

o que eu me lembro: depois das notas do caderninho, tive que esconder minha caneta no tênis, porque a segurança não ia deixar entrar, ainda mais a minha caneta, que é de metal.

ser um membro do 10C provou ser uma coisa perigosa. tanto ódio de nossos companheiros fãs do PJ... depois de uma hora no sol, entrei, fui a terceira na grade, eu fiquei entre o Ed e o Stone. de vez em quando dava pra ver a Jill e a Olivia no palco, com aqueles protetores de ouvido enormes, muito fofa. a banda local e o Mudhoney foram duros de apreciar...

a banda entrou no palco por volta das 9 da noite. surreal. é... aquele é o Ed. o Ed. Mike, Stone, Jeff, Matt, Boom… eles pareciam tão familiares, como se eu já os tivesse visto milhares de vezes. Stone e Boom vestiram a camisa do Restless Souls pro show! nossa, foi muito legal.

é esquisito, eu não consigo lembrar o setlist, muito menos na ordem. só sei que começou com long road, me lembrou demais o Touring Band 2000 (só faltou a teia de aranha no pedestal do microfone hehe). em crazy mary o A. bebeu o vinho! o Marky Ramone tocou bateria em i believe in miracles!

duas horas e quarenta minutos de show. só via meus amigos do RS saindo da grade. eu fiquei. tenho hematomas pra provar, embaixo dos braços e no peito. algumas vezes não conseguia respirar, então eu respirava fundo quando dava, como na meditação... dois caras se revezaram me espremendo contra a grade (com um eu até fiz um acordo de ser almofada de grade pra poder ficar na frente dele). uma certa pessoa deveria estar fazendo aquilo, ai, ai... teve uma hora que eu fui levantada do chão pela multidão... fui arrastada um metro e meio da posição original durante o show. aprendi que do the evolution é uma música muito perigosa : ))) eu estava horrível, descabelada, empapada de suor de outras pessoas, nas costas, da cabeça até as pernas, um cotovelo maldito espetando meu antebraço esquerdo por uma hora sem parar, de propósito... a gente morrendo de calor e de sede, a produção começou a jogar água pra gente (depois de umas quatro horas implorando...). a batalha das palhetas foi difícil também, meus “protetores” pularam por cima de mim no fim do show...

enquanto toda essa loucura acontecia, eu pensava, “eu não vou fazer isso de novo!... talvez só Curitiba... São Paulo e Rio, vai ser impossível...”

Ed e Stone estavam tão perto que era surreal. Stone leu meu cartaz várias vezes e só ria... o aniversário do Matt no palco, com bolo e tudo... parabéns pra você em português... Mike tocando com a bandeira do Brasil nos ombros... Ed jogando pandeiros pros dois lados do palco, muuuuuito perto de mim, e eu sem filme na máquina... muita gente jogando camisas de flanela no palco... sem noção... acho que eles adoraram isso aqui. Ed batia no peito perto do coração toda hora.

tirei quase 40 fotos, espero que fiquem boas.

é isso, são quase três da manhã e eu tenho que dormir.

São Paulo, 01 dez 2005 – 21:45

estou em São Paulo. está caindo um temporal daqueles há mais de uma hora. estou no quarto 1951 do Hotel Formule 1 da Consolação. é muito esquisito, a pia e o box são dentro do quarto, mas é barato. ou é barato porque é esquisito. whatever. me sinto como ontem e, pra falar a verdade, como tenho me sentido desde que a jornada começou: sozinha. às vezes choro lembrando dos shows, ou por causa dos hematomas e da dor nos calcanhares, ou por tudo isso junto. e por causa da sensação de que alguma coisa está faltando. e é __. é irônico que a coisa que mais quis durante dois anos não é mais a coisa que eu quero. acho que só vou apreciar mesmo essa experiência depois que estiver de volta. já pirei, pensando em desistir, pensando se vale a pena. é uma loucura. descobri que o melhor de tudo é contar, compartilhar os momentos. nossa, o cigarro agora me deixou tonta. a ansiedade, o cansaço e o calor são tão fortes que desisti de fumar no show. e na casa da R. eu não quis, pra não empestear o ambiente daquela casa linda. demais pra mim, fiquei tensa o tempo todo pra não sujar ou estragar nada.

ah, os shows:

POA – o tempo não passa naquela terra. alguma distorção espaço-temporal, com certeza. o primeiro dia na fila do 10C. a galera da geral tava com ódio da gente depois de dormir na fila e ficar horas debaixo de um sol abrasador, mais quente que o Rio. fui a terceira na grade frontal, o palco a um metro e meio de distância, um metro e meio de altura. muito perto. Ed entrou com uma cara assustada, meio franzindo a testa, meio arqueando as sobrancelhas daquele jeito dele. cantou long road. juro que ele olhou pra mim... e franziu a testa de novo... seria por causa do meu cartaz “Greece – Pearl Jam – 2006”? acho que ele não entendeu nada. o R. (meu companheiro de pulseira) disse depois que o Ed leu meu cartaz, sim, bem naquela hora...

vi os caras muito de perto. surreal. e apanhei muito, a galera da geral castigou mesmo a gente. a maioria do pessoal do RS começou a ser retirada pelos seguranças por causa do calor. ficamos sem água durante horas de espera. eu era o “espaço vazio” na grade (eu e a C....), os seguranças tiravam todo mundo por cima de mim, levei muita sapatada na cabeça. houve músicas que nem escutei, de tanto que apanhei.

eu esqueci o setlist. vou ter que escutar os boots pra realmente ouvir as músicas. só sei que eles tocaram duas músicas da minha lista logo de cara, given to fly e i got shit (ah, o outro lado do meu cartaz era um setlist básico: in my tree, i got shit, given to fly, present tense, insignificance e nothingman), quase chorei...

a festa de aniversário do Matt no palco foi hilária, bolo, parabéns pra você em português, quase 13 mil pessoas cantando, o roadie enfiando o bolo na cara do Matt, Ed metendo bolo na própria cara e depois todo mundo jogando bolo em todo mundo e na platéia, Ed com a barba cheia de creme de bolo, ai, minha deusa... todos muito felizes, se abraçando, Ed batendo com o punho no peito daquele jeito dele.

nessa altura o primeiro cara que ficou atrás de mim se afastou e veio outro, que até me apoiou, me deu água (o Jake começou a distribuir porque os ambulantes não podiam chegar na frente), ficava arrumando meu cabelo e descansava o queixo na minha cabeça. quase romântico... só que na guerra das palhetas do Stone no final do show ele também me deu muita porrada. como eu quis que __ estivesse ali... fui um ótimo colchão de grade. hematomas nos braços e dor no peito e nos pés.

Ed ficou pertinho na beira do palco, quando foi distribuir os pandeiros. ah, Jill e Olivia estavam no palco. alguém me falou que na hora do “hey, hey” em alive , a Olivia estava curtindo tanto, levantando os bracinhos como a galera, que o Ed saiu do palco pra ficar com ela; muito legal.

ah, a menina que estava do meu lado conseguiu entregar o vinil pro Ed! ele chegou muuuuuuito perto....

nota: segurança de POA – Warriors – nota ZEROOOO! – a gente implorava que eles fizessem alguma coisa com o pessoal que estava empurrando de propósito, eles diziam que não podiam interferir, só tiravam quem passava mal, nem ligaram pros baderneiros. “vocês quiseram ficar aí, seus otários...”, riam da gente e tudo! e pegavam as palhetas e toalhas e depois queriam vender pra gente! um horror.

23:30 – parei pra jogar tetris na tv... manero... ainda tá chovendo... fiz meu lanche básico de batata frita pringle’s, coca-cola e um sacolé de mocinha chocolate. a única refeição decente que fiz foi em POA (29), no restaurante do hotel: salmão ao molho de açafrão com purê de batata. estava maravilhoso. mas não consegui comer tudo, acho que meu estômago diminuiu. estou com um certo piriri, ai, ai...

CURITIBA – gostei da cidade. diferente de Poa, lá a primeira impressão (uma viagem a trabalho) não muito boa, só mudou por causa das pessoas que conheci do RS. a pedreira Paulo Leminsky é um lugar muito bonito, só que o sol castigou. dessa vez fui melhor preparada, comprei umas cotoveleiras em Poa e uns adesivos de salompas, coloquei nos braços e no peito; não senti muita dor, só fiquei intoxicada com o cheiro de cânfora. amanhã vou colocar adesivos na sola dos pés, aí vai ficar ótimo. o tempo passou normalmente, acho que estou me acostumando. antes de entrar a V. e eu tiramos uma foto com o Jake “polar bear”; acho que ele estava se esforçando pra não rir, com aquela cara de mau : )))). na entrada pegaram meus sanduíches e a água que o P. (meu companheiro de pulseira) tinha me dado... fiquei na grade de novo, do lado do Mike, só que na lateral; foi o que se pode arranjar, tive que correr morro acima e depois morro abaixo, não tive pique. vi o show de lado, Stone, Boom e meio Ed : )))) olha, disseram que foram vendidos vinte mil ingressos, mas durante o show não parava de chegar gente, a Pedreira ficou lotada, devia ter uma quarenta mil pessoas. palco muito longe (apesar de eles terem tirado as pedras) e muito alto.tirei umas fotos da cabeça vermelha do Mike : )))) foi só o que consegui ver. não houve muita violência dessa vez. Ed estava muito louco, a banda entrou direto com corduroy e fez o setlist mais louco que eu já vi. sad e indifference foram surpresas. O Mudhoney entrou junto na hora de kick out the jams (motherfuckers!). Ed tropeçou, dançou, correu de um lado pra outro no meio da estrutura de metal da lateral do palco, pensei que ele ia se pendurar na coluna e tudo. acho que eles desencanaram dos shows de pista. as vezes ele parava e colocava a mão na testa pra olhar ao longe, sem acreditar em tanta gente. falou em português de novo, muito doce e engraçado. tá magrinho, as calças nem marcam a bunda, ai, ai... LUKIN. STBC. muito louco. fiquei perto da R. (foi a menina que fez o abaixo assinado!) e da M. nos encontramos hoje no aeroporto, as três com a mesma camiseta verde do Pearl Jam, parecia uniforme : )))) (o namorado da R. deu carona pra gente até o hotel aqui, muito legal). Ed disse que “vamos voltar se vocês quiserem”. duh... que tal amanhã? : )))) conheci o K. do RM! nossa, não vou ao fórum faz dois dias... tentei ligar pra J. hoje, não consegui, tô com saudade dela também ( e de ___...) comprei mais duas camisetas, a branca com a fênix e a verde acinzentada de manga comprida. amanhã vou comprar a do R.. comprei uma não oficial do stickman, coloquei dentro da roupa, no peito, ajudou a amortecer a grade... amanhã tem mais. vai se punk.

nota: fiz umas comprinhas de souvenir em Poa e em Curitiba. não vai dar pra lavar roupa (aqui não tem frigobar no quarto, que dirá lavanderia...) vou ter que improvisar. a camiseta limpa do RS eu vou deixar pro Rio. estou doida pra conhecer o V., meu “sobrinho” de Recife. é isso.

nota 2: segurança de Curitiba NOTA DEZ! educados, profissionais, competentes. dei parabéns ao Jake pela segurança.

Rio, 26 Dez 2005 – 18:46

só agora estou tendo tempo de escrever. a vida ficou ainda mais difícil depois que voltei dos shows. mas quero escrever antes que eu esqueça dos detalhes. se bem que acho que só vou lembrar é dos detalhes mesmo, daquelas coisas especiais que tornam cada show único. desde que voltei todo mundo me pergunta qual foi o melhor show, qual é meu favorito... não tem, é que nem filho...

SP1 – o temporal continuou durante toda a madrugada do dia 1º. a sexta-feira amanheceu nublada, percebi que senti muito frio à noite. tomei café (encontrei a M. de novo), saí na garoa pra ir ao banco e comprar uma capa de chuva descartável. depois fui andando até o Pacaembu, cheguei lá por volta das 11. a galera já tava por lá. mais horas de espera. muita gente do 10C, eu pensava, “tudo bem, se não conseguir grade já tá mais do que bom, já é demais eu ter conseguido grade duas vezes...” nesse dia adotei meu esquema “sacolinha”: saco plástico com minha câmera (levei dois rolos de filme dessa vez, em Curitiba também), meu cartaz (com duas músicas marcadas), uma outra capa de chuva que dei pra alguém. conheci mais gente de Sampa, dessa vez minha pulseira ficou com o P., não consegui achar o menino que ia ficar com a pulseira do C. foi tudo mais cedo, porque o show tinha que terminar antes das dez da noite. eu nem acreditei quando cheguei na grade de novo! o esquema da grade do Pacaembu era diferente, tinha uma quebradinha na ponta, fiquei bem ali. mesmo com o palco mais alto e mais longe, fiquei muito perto. choveu o tempo todo. o Ed disse que parecia Seattle... que era melhor do que Seattle! o ponto marcante pra mim nesse show foi man of the hour. foi a primeira vez que chorei mesmo, de soluçar. legal reencontrar o F. de Curitiba, o cara da segurança, muito gente boa. nessa altura até os seguranças americanos já conheciam a gente, o Jake mesmo de vez em quando olhava pra mim e perguntava se eu estava bem, também tinha hora que eu só me debruçava na grade e fechava os olhos, parecia que ia desmaiar... o esquema da água também foi muito melhor. saí do show muito feliz, muito leve, acho que chorar ajudou. consegui ligar pra J. ainda de lá, estava muito feliz.

cheguei no hotel tremendo de frio e com fome, mas corri pro RM e pro RS. estava com saudade do pessoal, doida pra compartilhar as emoções do dia. depois, lanche básico (só lembrava do salmão com purê de batata de Poa... ai, ai...), dessa vez incluí a rosquinha do côco que a J. gosta...

nota: os seguranças de SP foram muito legais também, sob o comando do F. a gente chamava todo mundo de Fonseca, o nome da empresa. não faltou água, no final a gente tava até desprezando...

SP2 – dia seguinte, mesma coisa. dessa vez comprei o jornal (fiz a mesma coisa em Poa e Curitiba, pra guardar pra posteridade...), mais filme e, importantíssimo, barrinhas de cereal, a única coisa que a revista deixava passar. foram para a sacolinha também. usei minha camiseta de manga comprida do PJ. não estava chovendo, mas ainda estava bem frio. cheguei lá pelas 11. e um tempo depois chegou o V.! nossa, foi muito legal, depois de, sei lá, mais de ano conversando pela internet, finalmente conhecer a pessoa é muito bom. ele é muito legal, divertido com aquele tamanho todo e o vozeirão de baixo humano. o tempo passou rapidinho dessa vez, conversamos o tempo todo, ele foi meu companheiro de pulseira. e não é que pegamos grade! eu nem acreditei. foi grade lateral, lado do Stone de novo. pra mim já tava mais do que bom. eu não podia imaginar que aquela grade lateral acabaria sendo a melhor coisa que me aconteceu em toda a turnê... várias coisas especiais aconteceram nesse show: eles tocaram present tense! pra mim a música mais impossível da minha lista. chorei muuuuuito, V. também (que fofo...); aí de repente a Kerensa tirou uma foto minha com meu cartaz. eu tô no site do 10C, com sacolinha e tudo! muito surreal. e então o ponto alto da turnê, pra mim: Ed desceu do palco de novo e passou a um metro de mim no corredor entre as grades! eu só pude apontar a câmera por baixo de milhares de braços e clicar. “bom, fotografei o cotovelo dele...”. quando revelei eu levei um susto: a foto ficou muito foda! Ed aparece perfeito, sem ninguém na frente, com a mão direita levantada, uma luz no rosto... MA-RA-VI-LHO-SO! essa foto valeu todo o sacrifício, todas as porradas e amassos, toda a dor, toda a fome e desconforto que senti. tudo valeu por uma foto... já virou papel de parede do puto... outra coisa muito engraçada foi Ed falando “perguntam porque não vimos antes, que porra estávamos pensando”! muito hilário. foi engraçado também quando Ed errou a gaita em you’ve got to hide your love away no encore e todo mundo começou a rir, inclusive ele. ontem passou esse show no especial de Natal da Band, nossa, me diverti muito contando pra família a minha aventura, parecia a primeira vez que tava vendo (não deixa de ser verdade, muita coisa eu não vi mesmo, como o Mike descendo do palco também...), mas ao mesmo tempo eu sabia que estava lá, minha voz tava naquele coro... acho que, pra alguém que passou a noite em claro e tava rouco, ele cantou muito bem. minha irmã ficou impressionada, “de onde esse cara tira essa voz?”

depois do show, um delicioso sanduíche, enorme e bem quentinho com muito ketchup e batata frita, na companhia do V., as patricinhas dos Jardins olhando pra nós, sujinhos e desmazelados, e nós nem aí pra elas, depois daquela noite incrível. “tchau, sobrinho... a gente se vê...”

Rio, 02 Jan 2006 – 18:07

RIO – acordei no dia 04 de dezembro ainda em São Paulo, caindo de sono. ainda chovia um pouco, meio friozinho. saí sem tomar café direto pro aeroporto. consegui o último lugar no avião, cheguei era quase meio-dia no Rio. já tava um sol daqueles. corri até a casa da F. e deixei a chave de Curitiba na portaria, pra R. pegar e voei pra Apoteose. cheguei lá por volta de 1 da tarde. “é, dessa vez não vai ter grade...” por incrível que pareça, eu que precisava de umas três pulseiras no início, acabei com uma sobrando; um menino que nem conheço acabou muito feliz por causa disso. por causa da desorganização, a fila foi movida por outro lado da rua, ainda dentro da Apoteose. aí foi meio punk, porque a galera da geral conseguiu pular as grades e veio com tudo pra cima da gente. a fila foi puxada pra frente, os seguranças não deixavam a gente sair, enquanto vinte homens tentavam segurar uma multidão de, sei lá, cinco mil pessoas. a coisa acalmou um pouco. encontrei a R. e a M. de novo, a gente tava conversando com o Rafa da mtv sobre a desorganização quando a boiada estourou de novo. não teve nem revista. muita gente do RS foi pra arquibancada. o M. acabou pegando um lugar pra mim na grade lateral, lado do Stone, pra variar, e acabou ficando na frente, até apareceu no telão. nesse dia a espera foi pior, porque os portões abriram na mesma hora de Sampa, mas o show começou mais tarde do que todos. fez um dia lindo, sem nenhuma nuvem no céu, um calor de doer. uma menina legal me deixou comer o fandangos dela, eu tava morrendo de fome. cheguei a dormir em pé várias vezes, encostada na grade, só percebi quando os joelhos dobraram. conheci um outro “Fonseca” gente boa, também chamado F., que adora rock e tem a voz igual a do Thaíde da mtv. quando o Mudhoney entrou já tinha anoitecido. meus calcanhares doíam absurdamente. cheguei a querer que tudo acabasse logo... é, pirei, com o cansaço e as dores. quando eles entraram, tentei trazer a magia de volta... não foi difícil... a dor passou na hora... depois é que fui ver que a alça do meu soutien chegou a cortar minha pele... punk. o highlight da noite foi insignificance. é, a quarta música da minha lista! depois descobri que in my tree tava no setlist, mas eles não tocaram... teve uma hora que eu percebi que o Jake tava conversando com a J. na grade, chegou a pegar a bandeira, quer dizer, a canga com a bandeira do Brasil que a galera veio assinando desde Poa... humm, alguma coisa ia acontecer... pois não é que o Ed viu a bandeira e o Jake entregou pra ele? foi o momento mais importante de toda a tour. acho que são as fotos mais bonitas também (não as minhas, nesse caso). Ed pegou a bandeira e leu as mensagens; a minha está bem na ponta inferior do losango amarelo... depois ele se enrolou na bandeira... depois ele virou de costas e abriu os braços, como se estivesse abrindo as asas... foi lindo! depois disse que essa ele ia guardar na casa dele! a galera do RS chorando, quarenta mil pessoas cantando “eu sou brasileiro, com muito orgulho, com muito amor!” muito emocionante. uma coisa engraçada foi Jake olhando pra Ed e perguntando, “aí, vai descer?”, meio rindo porque o palco era alto e não tinha nada pra ele pisar como em Sampa, nem aquelas caixas de equipamento. Ed riu e fez que não, tipo, “tá maluco?” só que o doido acabou descendo de novo, só que não andou no corredor dessa vez, só ficou na frente. outra coisa legal foi que eles não terminaram com yellow ledbetter, ainda tocaram baba o’riley! aí acabou, com a promessa de volta ano que vem, quem sabe... e aí eu comecei a chorar sem parar... acabou... acabou... e chorava e chorava. encontrei a menina simpática de Sampa, a G., que me abraçou emocionada também. acabei me perdendo de todo mundo. nossa, que tristeza, que solidão. milagrosamente consegui um táxi e fui pra casa (só nesse dia descobri que demoliram o Ballroom! passei na frente e “uai, cadê o Ballroom?” dias depois um taxista me disse que já tava demolido desde o início de novembro!).

pois é, foi isso. voltar ao trabalho foi difícil. meu organismo ficou abalado por uns dias. fiquei fora do ar, como se tudo não passasse de um sonho. as fotos tornaram tudo mais real. ainda não comprei os boots, preciso de ajuda de meus amigos informáticos pra baixar, ainda tô sem puto em casa. daí as coisas começaram a ficar muito ruins no fim do ano, tudo junto, quase pensei que era um novo capítulo das desventuras em série do meio do ano passado. posso dizer com certeza que a melhor coisa que me aconteceu em 2005 foi essa tour do Pearl Jam. foi a única coisa boa que não mudou, que não me deixou, que eu não perdi, que não me dá tristeza de lembrar. sei que isso vai ser meu pra sempre, ninguém pode tirar isso de mim (bom, se eu perder a memória, há fotos, gravações e esse texto... ia fazer questão de re-aprender isso tudo...). então, só me resta ser eternamente grata. não faria o que fiz, não passaria pelo que passei, por nenhuma outra banda. e estou pronta pra fazer de novo em... 2007? bom, já renovei minha membership no 10C... agora é esperar pelo novo álbum... e cultivar as amizades conquistadas, que isso é o mais importante.

* * * the end * * *

i asked for you...

2005-12-29T07:12:00.000-08:00

i asked for you… (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2005
(just lyrics)

like noodles, for tomato sauce
like a wagon, for a horse

like breakfast, for orange juice
like fighting enemies, for a truce

like ham, for scrambled eggs
like mini skirt, for long legs

like rice, for black beans
like sunglasses, for sunbeams

like coffee, for a sugar spoon
like midnight asks for noon

like fruit ask to be ripe
like handwriting, to be typed

like blue skies, for white clouds
like the silent, for crying out loud

like a sunset, for an eye
like a drunk man, for the rye

like a dark night, for the moon
like never asks for soon

like the dawn asks for the morn
like the draught asks for a storm

like the ocean, for a shore
like the shallow, for a core

like a boat, for the adrift
like the current, for a shift

like the wave asks for the tide
like a secret, no more hide

like the fire asks for wood
like the wet hair, for a hood

like a curtain, for a breeze
like a lemon, for a squeeze

like a room asks for a view
like the old, to be new

like a cat asks for milk
like a princess, for the silk

like the bear asks for a cave
like the beard asks for a shave

like a flower, for a bee
like the blind man, to see

like a football, for a kick
like the remedy, for the sick

like the aim asks for an arrow
like the wire, for the sparrow

like garbage, for a trash can
like the fallen one, for a hand

like clutter asks for a box
like cold feet, for socks

like a cigarette, for a lighter
like boxing gloves, for a fighter

like a lamp, to be switched on
like a wanderer, to get home

like a clock asks for the wind
like thoughts ask for the mind

like a mail box, for letters
like the clueless, for what matters

like the wreck asks for the mend
like confusion, to understand

like chains, to be unlocked
like doors, to be unlocked

like the soap, for the bubble
like the bully asks for trouble

like the needle, for the sew
like the devil, for the soul

like a book asks for a reader
like the cattle for a breeder

like the story, for a teller
like the merchandise, for a seller

like a poem, for a rhyme
like the seasoning, for thyme

like a sentence, for a verb
like hot water, for the herb

like paper, for a pen
like nine asks for ten

like a guitar asks for Mike
like a crooner, for a mic

like feet ask for a dance
like fact, for circumstance

like the heart asks for a pace
like the gambler, for a race

like the skin asks for a touch
like little asks for much

like the nose, for a sweet scent
like desire, for consent

like the ear, for a song
like the old, to be young

like the tongue asks for taste
like impatience asks for haste

like lips ask for a kiss
like the dreamer asks for bliss

like tears ask to be cried
like tears ask to be dried

like a finger, for a ring
like nothing, for anything

like arms, for an embrace
like a bride asks for lace

like a womb asks for a child
like a beast asks to be wild

like the thirsty one, for quench
like the rope asks for a wrench

like the hungry, for a meal
like illusion, to be real

like the tired asks for rest
like the bird asks for a nest

like the lost, to be found
like the square, to be round

like the crawler, to grow wings
like winter asks for spring

like the pupil, for education
like the doubt, for explanation

like the prisoner, for freedom
like the acolyte for wisdom

like the madman asks for peace
like the aunt asks for a niece

like the vampire asks for blood
like the stream, for the flood

like a poet, for a muse,
like the tool, for some use

like the dead ask for rebirth
like the aliens, for the earth

like an angel, to be human
like a girl, to be a woman

like a lover, to be loved back
like a necklace, for a neck

like a problem, for solution
like the innocent, for absolution

like the pain asks to cease
like the sufferer, for release

like darkness asks for light
like wrong asks to be right

like the hopeless asks for hope
like a loser, for a way to cope

like a mistake, for forgiveness
like the bitter, for sweetness

like sadness, for a laughter
like now asks for after

like the lie asks to be true
that’s how i asked for you…

* * *

bad news

2005-12-19T15:25:00.000-08:00

well, i had one of the most humiliating days at work today. my boss associated my low productivity at work to my constant visits to the internet. although he knows about my current situation, the depression, the panic attacks, the medical leave a couple of months ago, and in spite of my explanation, that the internet is not the cause of my low performance, but an attempt to solve the problem, by having somewhere to go to when my head refuses to think, he asked if i wanted to keep on working in the department, if my doctor could arrange another leave (the answer to that being, not now, that i`m getting better... ironic) and if i could compromise with some date to improve my performance. as if i could predict when i`ll be feeling well... so, no more internet at work. that means no internet ever, because i still don`t have a computer at home. maybe a couple of times a week, at the mall, like right now. together with all the shit i`ve been getting lately, i find myself again in this pathetic situation, that seems to be this unbreakable pattern in my life, no matter how hard i try to delete it. and, believe, i try. and succeed, specially in the last couple of years. only i`m too tired this time, as i`ve never been before. with all the good things that i had the chance to enjoy, i guess now happiness only makes it hurt more...

(?) - puppet of fate

2005-12-16T13:43:00.000-08:00

puppet of fate (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2005
(just lyrics)

life has a funny way
of teaching you, making you smart
life has this wicked way
of making you lose from the start

right when you’re feeling high
life will try to bring you low
a happy moment, a sigh
you know, will have to go

life demands you to give
but it’s not very good at giving
if to hope is to almost live
then i guess i’m almost living

life has its cruel ways
if it wants you alone
it makes sure no friend stays
you look around and they’re gone

life invites to a waiting room
i sit and watch from the outside
my tears will stop to flow soon
as i wait for the next tide

hide my tears, hold back the shout
though it’s hard, i understand
i’ll be here reaching out
till life offers a helping hand

but i may play on life a trick
if it reaches out too late
i may jump out, for i’m sick
of being a puppet of fate

* * *

wave song

2005-12-14T05:45:00.000-08:00

wave song (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2005
(just lyrics)

i was flowing with the tides
the full moon shining above
as i washed upon the shore
you weren't there anymore

i watched you turn away
as i reached out for your heart
now weak, i fear the stone
my love has proved me wrong

i am dark, you chose the light
i'm too deep, you chose to float
i am death, you chose to live
what to you i cannot give

though your tears are part of me
you dive in another stream
faster the earth should spin
to spill me out into nothing

for i wish to stop the flow
go deep, forget the shore
for the moon i cannot bear
at the star i cannot stare

let me dry without you...

* * *

for an angel - last song

2005-12-13T13:35:00.000-08:00

last song (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2005
(for an angel – just lyrics)

well… the moment i’ve feared the most
has finally met me half-way
the wise man spoke the truth
now i hear, on the floor where i lay

i can’t deny, i saw it coming
but it don’t make it hurt any less
i wonder, will i find a way
to live again in hopelessness?

what do i do with the empty nights?
what do i do with the dreamless sleep?
how do i bring to darkness the light?
how do i dry the tears that i weep?

this is the last song
that i’ll write about you
though i may be wrong
that’s all i can do
for now…

while life happens all around
i sit here naked and numb
i can’t believe, it’s just too soon
what else could i have done?

it’s ironic, i can tell
that the time i used to fight
will be the only help for me
maybe again i’ll see the light

what do i do with the scream in my throat?
what do i do with the will not to be?
how do i sip from this sea where i float?
how do i fix this wreck that is me?

this was the last song
that i wrote about you
it’s such an ugly song
but that’s all i can do
for now…

* * *

the right setlist

2005-11-29T07:51:00.000-08:00

b>Set: Long Road, Las Exit, Animal, Do The Evolution, Green Disease, Jeremy, Grievance, Cropduster, Even Flow, Betterman, State Of Love And Trust, Daughter, Habit, Given To Fly, Immortality, Save You, Rearviewmirror
Encore 1: I Got Shit, Crazy Mary, I Believe In Miracles (w/Marky Ramone), Alive
Encore 2: Elderly Woman, Corduroy, Blood, Baba O'Riley, Yellow Ledbetter

the floor - a journey through heaven and hell - prologue

2005-11-29T06:31:00.000-08:00

tô em Poa. o show ontem foi uma loucura. fiquei na grade (tô cheia de hematomas nos braços e no peito), vi tudo tão de perto que é surreal. por incrível que pareça a ficha ainda não caiu totalmente. não chorei durante o show, parecia que eu estava anestesiada. às vezes ficava de boca aberta olhando pro Ed. às vezes pulava que nem uma doida, nem ligando que tinha um ou dois caras me sarrando o tempo todo . agora as lembranças vêm chegando de vez em quando e eu choro. muito esquisito. foram 2:40 de show. o Stone usou a camiseta do Restless Souls!surreal, por enquanto é o que eu posso dizer. não consigo lembrar a ordem do setlist, é estranho. mas tenho certeza de que eles abriram com Long Road! então, o que me lembro (alguém completa se lembrar):
long road
even flow
animal
habit
given to fly
i got shit
daughter
betterman
cropduster
save you
blood
rvm
crazy mary (o André foi o primeiro a beber o vinho!)
solat
immortality
corduroy
grievance
alive (no encore)
jeremy
small town
(no encore)
i believe in miracles (com Marki Ramone na bateria!)
baba o'riley
yellow ledbetter
estou indo hoje pra Curitiba. amanhã tem mais. i'm still alive!

* * *

i'm in Poa. the show yesterday was crazy. i was in the rail (i'm full of bruises in the arms and the chest), i saw everything so of close that it's surreal. as strange as it may seem, the token has not dropped completely yet. i did not cry during the show, i was numb. sometimes i was looking at Ed with my mouth open . sometimes i jumped like crazy, regardless to the fact that one or two guys were rubbing me allthe time :))) now the memories come every now and then and i cry. it was a 2:40 hour show. Stone wore the t-shirt of the Restless Souls! surreal, for the time being it is what i can say. i can't remember the order of setlist, it's strange but i am certain of that they opened with Long Road! then, what i remember (somebody complete it if remember):

long road
even flow
animal
habit
given to fly
i got shit
daughter
betterman
cropduster
save you
blood
rvm
crazy mary (André - Restless Souls was the first to drink the wine!)
solat
immortality
corduroy
grievance
alive (no encore)
jeremy
small town
(no encore)
i believe in miracles (with Marki Ramone on drums!)
baba o'riley
yellow ledbetter

i'm going to Curitiba today . there's more tomorrow . i'm still alive!

for an angel - crazy # 5

2005-11-25T05:46:00.000-08:00

crazy # 5 (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
(for an angel – just lyrics)

i’m so happy
why i cry
every time
i hear you play?

if i’m happy
why i weep
every night
before i sleep?

when i’m happy
why i scream
if you come
into my dream?

i’m so crazy
am i glad
or am i sad?
don’t know…

if i’m so sad
why i laugh
every time
i hear you sing?

and if i’m sad
why i smile
every day
when i wake?

and i’m so sad
why enjoy
every line
of your chord?

i’m so crazy
am i sad
or am i glad ?
don’t know…

* * *

for an angel - more

2005-11-25T05:43:00.000-08:00

more (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
(for an angel – just lyrics)

a thousand songs
yet i long
for the songs i can’t hear

a million words
yet i long
for the ones left unsaid

so much i know
but it’s
what i don’t know that i fear

so much i feel
yet i long
for what’s hiding in your head

more, more
i wanna read the line you scratched out
more, more
behind the silence i wanna hear the shout

more, more
the more i reach up the more i fall
more, more
though in the end i may lose it all

* * *

for an angel - crazy # 4

2005-11-19T12:28:00.000-08:00

crazy # 4 ( by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel

crazy, crazy
you drive me crazy
the way you come
the way you don't
just let me go
i have to work but i'm so
lazy, lazy
i feel so lazy

you play this wicked song
i fall under your spell
there is no right or wrong
i think i'll burn in hell

then i begin to strip
but i'm already naked
and though i try to hide
i know that i can't fake it

crazy, crazy
you drive me crazy
the way you say
the way you don't
please, let me go
i try to see but all is
hazy, hazy
my mind is hazy

one cigarette's not enough
i light one in the other
one song is not enough
i have to write another

immersed in the considerations
i cannot figure this out
a box of contradictions
i wish i could just shout!

crazy...

* * *

for an angel - confusion

2005-11-19T12:08:00.000-08:00

confusion (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel

i had made up my mind
this was a one side thing
something belonging in dreams
just a dream, sweet and kind

all of a sudden it's all strange
somehow i feel i'm doing wrong
that i no longer belong
i wonder what the fuck has changed

i wish i knew what's going on
if there is nothing there, so why?
many tears i've yet to cry
somehow i feel i should have known
better...

inspiration for a song
that's all i wished to get
dry my eyes often wet
it was worth for the sake of a song

all i have is confusion
how can i comfort my heart?
i should have known from the start
that's what you get from illusion

i wish i knew what's going on
if there was nothing there, so why?
many tears i've yet to cry
somehow i feel i should have known
better...
better...

* * *

for an angel - sweet surprise

2005-11-17T09:43:00.000-08:00

sweet surprise (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel

the days i can bear
sort of…
there’s sun or there’s rain
there’s work to be done to ease the pain

there’s phone calls to make
there’s e-mails to send
there’s papers to analyze
as the hours pass slowly by

and there’s always the chance
that you’ll drop by
there’s always a chance
of something funny to laugh about
and a sweet romance
may come as a sweet surprise

the nights are worse
it’s when the moon shines
it’s when the lights go out
it’s when my heart begin to shout

yet i long for the nights
though my feet keep on shaking
it’s the time when i can dream
play a game that i can win

and there’s always the chance
that you’ll drop by
in a dream of romance
a love that i can dream about
and there’s always a chance
of a sweet surprise

* * *

for an angel - insomnia

2005-11-14T10:53:00.000-08:00

insomnia (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel
(just lyrics)

time and again i go to bed
but in the sky the full moon
shines bright upon my room
thoughts restless in my head

i stand up, write these words
try to wash away the gloom
but the pain that grabs my womb
leaves me hopeless between worlds

oh, dawn is made for sleep
but it seems i am doomed
to be awake in this room
holding tears i cannot weep

you at dawn keep me awake
the whirling smoke like in a loom
weaves a fine lace gone too soon
like the peace i cannot fake

oh, how i wish i could just sleep
turn off the blazing moon
find a way to heal the wound
give my heart a chance to weep

but once again i go to bed
still in the sky the full moon
shines cruel in my room
thoughts spinning in my head

* * *

for an angel - poison

2005-11-09T04:55:00.000-08:00

poison (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel

for so long i’ve been undead
but somehow i came to be
i wonder how can it be
sip the poison and be glad?

get me high, get me low
enjoy the sickness and the pain
i long to taste poison again
addicted i risk my soul

i am lost, i am mad
i’m drenched in tears and wine
i don’t remember the past time
i don’t miss what i had

for i long for what i know
has turned my mind insane
may break my heart all the same
but maybe save my soul

* * *

for an angel - silent scream

2005-11-09T04:52:00.000-08:00

silent scream (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2005
for an angel
(just lyrics)

words, words, words surround me
words spinning in my head
words wait to find a room
in the stream that flows through me

words, words, words inside me
words blossom in my head
words dance under the moon
in the seams beneath my feet

words, words, words that hurt me
instead of tears it’s words i shed
words will come together soon
to bleed the visions out of me

words, words, words that read me
words that come from you instead
leave me naked in my room
as i dream they were for me

words, words, words that heal me
words from heaven, words blessed
words echo from dawn to noon
tell me there is hope for me

… “and the rest is silence”
the silence where i scream
out of words, cherish reliance
they were for me, i dare to dream

* * *

RM writers' prompt V

2005-11-08T08:59:00.000-08:00

daily

walk the same path
when there's heat it is dry
step on flowers that smell bad
dry on the same path

day after day
straight ahead
at the end another way
the same thing in my head

the length of a cigarrete
that's all that it takes
at the end i wish to cry
the same path still dry

zigzag around the dirt
i try to avoid the hurt
hurt myself i move ahead
the same thing in my head

* * *
walk the same path
when it rains it is wet
step on flowers that smell bad
wet on the same path

night after night
straight ahead
at the start there's a light
the same thing in my head

the length of a cigarrete
that's all that it takes
at the end where i get
the same path still wet

zigzag to avoid i try
another lonely passer-by
alone myself i move ahead
the same thing in my head

for an angel - stay

2005-11-01T12:58:00.000-08:00

stay (by deav)
Rio, Out 2005
(?)

i know you’ve been
fighting time
and things that keep us both apart
it matters not
how hard you’ve tried
somehow you’ve managed to come by

i know it won’t be for long
but at last you’re here
for the length of a song
i just wish that you could
stay
leave it all behind
stay
follow your heart not your mind
stay
right here in my arms

i know you're not
playing time
i know the feeling in your heart
some peace of mind
so hard you’ve tried
i know it all right from the start

i know soon you’ll be gone
but at least you’re here
for the length of a song
i just wish that you could
stay
with an open mind
stay
oh, my angel, you’re so kind
stay
right here in my arms

* * *

RM writers' prompt IV

2005-11-01T07:13:00.000-08:00

if my thoughts could walk
they would stop crawling
and run to where you are

if my thoughts could jump
they would jump high
to reach your mind

if my thoughts could fly
they’d spread their wings
right towards your heart

if my thoughts could swim
i’d watch as they walk
babbling into the sea

if my thoughts could take
me to you or bring
you to me… what if?

for an angel - boxing you

2005-10-28T11:25:00.000-07:00

boxing you (by deav)
Rio, Out 2005
(just lyrics)

i put you in a box
shoes off, leave the socks

take your feet
so you can fit

take your wings
now you don't sing

take you legs below the knee
so you can't run away from me

take the rest up to your tighs
wonder if it makes you sigh

take your arms
so you can't wave

i keep just the lips
from them i sip
(but you don't smile...)

i keep the heart
but it wont' beat

i wear you out
i throw you out.

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y30/deavportal/RED-MOSQUITO/boxingyou.jpg

i got tix!

2005-10-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

i got tix!

2005-10-26T15:21:00.000-07:00

YAAAY!!!! got my tix for the Pearl Jam brazilian tour! Five shows!

Nov 28 - Porto Alegre - Gigantinho
Nov 30 - Curitiba - Pedreira Paulo Leminsky
Dec 02 - São Paulo - Pacaembu
Dec 03 - São Paulo - Pacaembu
Dec 04 - Rio de Janeiro - Apoteose

I'M GOING! YAAAAAY!!!!

RM writers' prompt III

2005-10-25T06:28:00.000-07:00

this is how i see
the way i’ve gone the first half
first attempts to fly
crushed down at the start
crawling was what was left for me

this is how i wish
the way of the second half
finally learn to fly
with a winged heart
in worlds entwined of bird and fish

this is how i go this day
i stumble into life, just half
way to learning to fly
forth and back to the start
clumsy i go to make my way

for an angel - october fool

2005-10-23T10:14:00.000-07:00

october fool (by deav)
Rio, Oct 2005
(?)

i watch as october flies
try to hold it back, i grab it
but it slips through my fingers
i don't know why
maybe i do
maybe it's the little bad things
i have to go through
before the really good things come
ooh... ooh...

i know it's foolish of me
to live out of time
back and forth but never here
it's all i have for now
i play a trick on time
so i can have you with me

then i'll wish that next year flies
i'll try to rush it, i'll haste it
but i'll just watch as it lingers
i don't know why
maybe i do
maybe it's the big bad things
that keep me from you
before my dreams decide to come
true... true...

i know it's foolish of me
can't catch up on time
i gotta be what i gotta be
and i know no-how
i'll win my play on time
i'll never have you with me

you...
i'm a fool...

* * *

for an angel - archangel

2005-10-19T07:21:00.000-07:00

archangel (by deav)
Rio, Out 2005
(just lyrics)

every time i fear
i feel my heart crack
the painful sound it makes
so disturbing
i feel i have to yield
surrendered by your chord
the i can move ahead

every now and then
i hear your voice surround me
and i forget about the rest
and close my eyes a while
then i can move ahead

every time i fear
your wings spread at my back
the rustling sound they make
so reassuring
i feel safe behind your shield
defended by your sword
then i can move ahead

every now and then
i feel your arms around me
and lay my head on your chest
and close my eyes a while
then i can move ahead

* * *

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y30/deavportal/RED-MOSQUITO/arch_picbigger.jpg

RM writers' prompt II

2005-10-18T07:04:00.000-07:00

if you’re reading this now it means that i’m ... well, dead. there’s no easy way to say it. i’m sorry, this is creepy, but i had to ask my best friend to post this. the thing is (i’m sure you’re wondering) i promise i didn’t drop out of life. it must have been a lethal disease or an accident. because i didn’t even want to want to die (the puddle of mud where people who take their lives stay after death may be cozy and warm but, by now, i’ve learned to give worth to the journey of life and its place in the “big picture”). i’m probably quite mad right now, that i was taken, there was so much hope amongst the pain and so many things i’ve been dreaming to do… it’s not fair. or it is. anyway. i just want to say that i love you. “love” love, i mean. it came slowly and softly and sweet and one day it struck me, i even said it out loud! weird… i confess i was afraid. that was foolish of me, i see that now (only too late). no time to be afraid now, though. i love you deeply, madly, dearly, passionately. i love you like in music and poetry. i love you so much i want you to be happy forever. as long as forever goes. and forever is now, you know… so for what it’s worth, live each day as if it were the last (allow me to be this corny…) live everything to the end, the pain and the pleasure of it. taste it all. believe in love too, the way i do. “love is always real”. use sunscreen hehe just kidding… ok, sunscreen and condoms. remember never to allow this beautiful person you are to be chewed and swallowed (or spit out, for that matter) by this crazy world you still live in. one more moment for a little tale? well, once i was climbing a mountain and, when there were about fifty steps to the top (i wasn’t aware of that), i sat down and gave up. “no, i won’t go further, i’m too tired”. then a friend came and told me “trust me, were almost there, it’s so beautiful up there, it’s worth all the effort”. and he took my hand. and it was amazing, the view from the top. i realize i sat down again this time, fifty steps from the top where you could be. or not. ironic, huh? but i’ll never have time in this life to take my hand and lead me there. so, all i ask of you is this, don’t sit down and give up. you may be only fifty steps away, who knows? you must think i’m cruel to come from the tomb to haunt you with a phantom love. cree-py. i just hope you can forgive me, after all i’m a dead person (sorry, bad joke …) but you’re alive. so go ahead and live!

great faker

2005-10-14T15:37:00.000-07:00

great faker (by deav)
Rio, Jul-Out 2005
(just lyrics)

never felt like this before
not true, you have
it’s the worst time of my life
you’ve had bad times before
but it’s all falling apart
no, not really, no
i feel crushed inside
just stand up and go
but i feel so weak…
you know it’s not like you say
what is it, a trick?
it’s just that little game you play

great faker
whining all the time
even though she knows it can’t break her
drinking all the wine

how come the hole in my heart?
an excuse not to start
what’s with the scorning?
you’ll feel better in the morning
but i… but i…
we can see right through you
no matter how i try
quit dragging attention to you

great faker
it’s so undivine
to blackmail your maker
just to make a rhyme
(shame on you)

* * *

RM writers' prompt

2005-10-14T14:49:00.000-07:00

13 Out 2005

well, here we are. don't tell me i didn't warn you. when it slowly began to turn into something else i cried, alarmed. you took the risk and dragged me with you. when the urge became too hard to bare i cried again, "release me", i begged. but you would just keep on doing your thing, regardless of me, of my dispair (i still don't know if out of innocence or wickedness, or just pure evil enjoyment, the sadist...). "beware of the poison, it all ends in poison", i whispered, breathless, while you just sucked out more and more of the remaining strength. now you can feel it, too, don't you? the bitterness, i mean. now you finally see me (i've been seeing you for a while, now...). i can tell by your disgusted look that you don't like what you see, huh? "remember when i told you? remember..." i vomit between sobs. see, you don't love me. you never did. i told you so. i told you so.

for an angel - garbage

2005-10-14T07:38:00.000-07:00

garbage (by deav)
Rio, Out 2005
(just lyrics)

i looked around, i looked hard
should i’ve asked for you to prove?
just happenstance?
i wait for you, i wait hard
i could not find you

i watch the scented smoke in awe
think of what it’s all for
i’ll give you this much
and wonder
was it wrong to seize the day
was it wrong to fly away?

the candle burned on both sides
there’s just a few things to hide
some things to put aside

may master plan backfired
should i have set the moves
in advance?
if i intended to be wired
all the given time with you?

ashes burning on the floor
to be swept outside the door
was it too much
i wonder
i finally scared you away
any hope to save my day?

there’s nothing left to hide
i put the garbage outside
just wait for the next tide

* * *

for an angel - from hell

2005-10-14T07:36:00.000-07:00

from hell (by deav)
Juiz de Fora-Rio, Out 2005
(just lyrics)

there’s a moon on my back
casts my shadow ahead
in the silence as i dance
it’s you that i hear
at a distance, but i can
see nothing through the fear

i hear your voice from heaven
i’m sure it’s where you are
a kiss you send me, but then
i watch it turn into a scar

tie the rope around my neck
gently cover up my head
sent to hell, oh, should i care?
if hell is just right here
no hope to ever fly up there
a smile turned to a tear

i hear your voice from a-far
steal the sun from up above
i dance and watch the rising star
that sheds the light i call …

(why is it so hard to say?
i say, don’t say
i say, i say…)

* * *

for an angel - non-world

2005-09-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

non-world (by deav)
Rio, Set 2005
(just lyrics)

in the world
i have to breathe
i have to eat
i have to work

time is relative
and space is curve
dimensions come between us

in the world
to be i fake
with the next mistake
i have to cope

life is relative
i observe
past existences still in us

but in a perfect world
no distance keeps us apart
in the non-world
no time, no space, just the heart
you could charm me with a sweetness
that appears through the bitterness
the ones in us never-become
would love each other, two in one
songs and children we’d beget
no mistakes made to regret

could eternity unfold
in a moment to behold
in a perfect world ?..

* * *

for an angel - the names of the trees

2005-09-26T07:46:00.000-07:00

the names of the trees (by deav)
Rio, Set 2005
(?)

storms on the way
i’m scared of the rain
seasons delayed
spring in a frame

i wish i could have
the ear that can hear
whispers in the wind
a reservoir of feelings
inside me

i wonder what it would be
if i could tell the names of the trees

time on the way
i’m in between
life in delay
wait to begin (not what it seems)

i wish i could have
the good eye that sees
flowers in the seams
visions crave for meaning
inside me

i wonder what it would be
if i could tell the names of the trees

* * *

for an angel - dancing in the silence

2005-09-23T15:08:00.000-07:00

dancing in the silence (by deav)
Rio, Set 2005
(?)

i watched the sea today
like many times before
maybe not the same sea
or is it the same sea
that washes every shore?

if you look for me someday
it’s easy, i’m the one
writing poems on the sand
a castle on the sand
soon to be washed away

if you wish to play me
play me kindly
anyway, my heart will cry in silence
i may seem to flee
but you can find me
i’m the one dancing in the silence…

i watched the sky today
like many times before
maybe a different sky
or is it the same sky
seen from a different shore?

if you look for me no more
fair enough, i’m no-one
just ideas in the wind
memories in the wind
not to be cared for

if you wish to read me
read me kindly
anyway, my soul will cry in silence
i may seem to be
you’ll never find me
i’m the one dancing in the silence…

* * *

(?) - pray to

2005-09-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

pray to (by deav)
Lefkada-Rio, Jul-Set 2005
(?)

so what now?
everything is falling apart
again

i don’t know how
seems like i’m back to the start
far from the end

i don’t understand
(you said) “i’ve told you that before”
i tried to remember
but my head’s not speaking now…

i’m so down
but soon i’ll be playing my part
again
here on the ground
feels quite comfortable, my heart
on the sand

(i asked) no helping hand?
(you said) “i’ll tell you just once more
“you can’t surrender
“just survive the game somehow”

so is it my move?
is there no-one
to save me?
no-one to pray to?

if i lose
is it my fault?
i won’t let go so easy
so i’ll pray
anyway
to you…

* * *

for an angel - angel tears

2005-09-12T16:09:00.000-07:00

angel tears (by deav)
Rio, Set 2005
(?)

it’s ok
i understand
things don’t go the way we dream
every time

some may say
(i comprehend)
not exactly what they mean
so do i

now someone tell me
how to keep these tears from falling
i try to dry them
but they just keep rolling down, down

it’s all right
i'll take a stand
things are better than they seem
for a while

darkest night
comes to an end
shades around are vanishing
so are mine

but someone tell me
how to keep these tears from falling
i try to swallow them
but every time i drown, i drown

an angel told me
that tears stop under the water
do they?
i wonder…
if it’s so
what a choice…
die or cry…
it doesn’t rhyme…
or does it?
(fuck)

* * *

for an angel - hey man

2005-09-08T14:38:00.000-07:00

hey man (by deav)
Rio, Aug 2005
(?)

hey, man
wash your tears away
hey, man
pick up the pieces of your heart

in this lonely place
you don’t have to stay
every end is the dawn of a brand new start

it’s for real
you’re at the dawn of a new you
believe me, man
i can only speak the truth
for you…

Zakinthos

2005-07-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

the picture below shows one of the places where i dived. swimming in emerald or sapphire? hard to tell...

Zakinthos

2005-07-11T08:45:00.000-07:00

(?) - free at last

2005-06-29T16:15:00.000-07:00

free at last (by deav)
Lefkada - Gr, June 2005
(?)

long road
known, yet unknown
yet to be walked
yet walked before

wind on
the heights pound on my ear drums
up and down
sometimes we slide
sometimes we run

at every step of the ancient paths
i shed skin
i shed skin
at every bend of the winding road
i shed flesh
i shed bone
until my soul is free at last
until my soul is free

my eyes
flooded with the blue sea
for a little while
they look like yours

i bathe in opal
like flying
i remember you
stranded at distant shores

at every suck of the burning smoke
i shed ash
i shed ash
at every beat of a heart of stone
i shed fears
i shed tears
until my soul is free at last
until my soul is free

* * *

(?) - make believe love

2005-03-29T08:39:00.000-08:00

make believe love (by deav)
Rio, Mar 2005
(?)

i know it was just a game, love
right from the start
but what a lovely game to play, love
it brings such warmth to my heart

i know i’m older and wiser, love
but there’s one thing i’ve forgotten
lovely games can hurt too, love
now my heart is getting rotten

oh when you spin round somebody else’s heart
it hurts me deep inside, guess i’m not that smart
i search inside my heart, don’t know if i can
will i ever love this way again?

i know it all seemed so right, love
in our little secret place
but we’re further than we figured, love
we’ll never see each other face to face

i know you have a piece of me, love
even though we’ve gone apart
all the flowers and sweet kisses, love
sweet promises are your major art

oh when mean in you cared less for me
i ran in tears and climbed up my tree
dinner plans washed up in the rain
will i ever love this way again?

* * *

"love is always real
even if we are not
love is always true
even if we are not"

but that's another song :))

(?) - bridges

2005-03-24T06:37:00.000-08:00

bridges (by deav)
Rio, Set 2004 - Mar 2005
(?)

a pen tip rests on a page
just move it and you have a line
connect the dots this simple way
and build a bridge for your mind

paper cups and a string
it’s easy, you can’t do no wrong
a wooden box ‘s the same thing
strings build a bridge to a song

some people jump, some people blow
but bridges are for crossing
i build a portal to the other world
with the coins that i’m tossing

build a bridge from your heart to mine
build the road step by step
build the highway mile by mile
build a bridge from your heart to mine
build the railway cause your train is coming

drums in the wood and smoke signs
message in a bottle
radio waves and satellites
any way to ease your sorrow

colliding dots create the light
on and off the message lingers
wired, wireless, cross the night
weave the net beneath your fingers

some people jump, some people blow
but bridges are for crossing
i build a portal to the other world
with the coins that i’m tossing

build a bridge from your heart to mine
build the road step by step
build the highway mile by mile
build a bridge from your heart to mine
build the railway cause your train is coming…

* * *

(?) - in the now

2005-03-04T15:20:00.002-08:00

in the now (by deav)
Rio, Ago-Set-Out 2004 - Mar 2005
(?)

i’ve been sleeping for a thousand years
in a bed of stone
i have visions of the hidden fears
of all the time that’s gone

i’ve been riding a night mare
through the underground fields of my soul
i've been drinking from the well of madness
that yields the seeds that i sow

i’ve been dreaming for a thousand years
of the times to come
i’ve been living on the b-side, in tears
what have i done?

when crossroads turn out to be a dead-end
i wonder
am i later than i supposed?
but things can get better
this is not a game, i’m still in the fight
i’ll ride the wave, i’ll follow the sight

in the now
my creation is in my hand
no time to mourn
the time it takes to understand
cause time is only a dream
and i’m almost awake
life will be what i make
here
in the now…

* * *

(?) - in the rain

2005-03-04T15:20:00.001-08:00

in the rain (by deav)
Rio, Dez 2004 - Jan-Fev 2005
(?)

i'm licking the rain off my lips
as i walk on
i’m swallowing the rain that pours over me
as i drown

i can’t go back to pick the words i dropped on the road
i guess this line will go unfinished
i cant’ go back to pick up the days
like sand they’re gone
i let them run through my fingers

so i move ahead
there’s nothing i can do instead
so i move ahead
in the rain

i’m crawling up the walls
this heat is insane on my face
boiling blood runs through my veins
i’ll end up burning down this place

the moon has caught me in her tide
i sit and watch as worlds collide in me
somersaulting feelings slide
in this crowded ballroom inside of me

so i move ahead…

* * *

(?) - annie lorrie

2005-03-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

annie lorrie (by deav)
Rio, Jan 2005
(?)

she was born on a rainy day
in her mama’s bed
for a midwife to welcome her
she had grandma and auntie instead

her big sister, golden hair in plaits
shed tears of joy, no more tears of sorrow
in the other room where she waits
for a new life to begin tomorrow

annie lorrie, annie lorrie
your dad has gone away
someday your brother will tell the story
of that so sad day

annie lorrie, annie lorrie
your name comes from a lovely tune
you’ll be happy, never sorry
the sun you rise up soon

* * *

demo # I

2005-02-10T09:43:00.000-08:00

i finally got some songs recorded! the universe conspired in my favor (i'm eternally grateful): there were the carnival holidays, Mauro (my brother-in-law) was testing a Roland VS 880 until the end of th month, so three days of recording, ten songs, masterization next saturday, demo cd in my hands next monday. isn't it absofuckinlutely great? i was worried about a lot of things: that i would record them, in the first place, exposing myself, making it permanent, not just words in the wind, sang on the couch in the living room; that i would sound like Mickey Mouse, my voice was always high pitch (i used to be a soprano), but since the awakening, and listening to Ed Vedder on a daily basis, and a lot of blues and a lot of punk, my voice lowered a lot, and, thank the Goddess, i sound like a human being and an adult female :)) (i hope...). i'm buying the Roland (second hand...), the first achievement of my home studio/indie record company. it's such an amazing experience to actually witness a dream coming true right in front of your eyes... specially if it's your own dream!

running in slow motion

2005-01-28T10:35:00.000-08:00

two more weeks until i'm free from the coordination position. at least one is a half week because of the carnival holidays. not that i'm too stressed, i'm learning how to handle it, but i'm more stressed than i like to be. and the result is writer's block, no song for a couple of months now, just pieces and bits of lyrics and melodies. i'm not completely frustrated because the RM Holiday Project is going fine, i've been enjoying pleasant hours planning, cutting, gluing, sewing and even weaving tiny little things to go on my page. i'm really proud of my little tree house and all the items that go inside, especially the tiny carpet and and the tiny songbooks you can actually read from. i'll have to borrow a digital camera, because i intend to photograph everything before i send the page to J. the major thing yet to be done is the recording, an essencial part of the project.

the RM itself is a major relief. it seems i get to like being there more and more each day. it kind of distracts me from work... maybe too much... a habit?

ah, and i got my 10C booklet with my membership card by the beginning of January. i guess i'll have to hold back my catching up fever, because of the huge vacation. btw, reservations have been made! May 21st until July 1st!

things keep on being blue, in the Brazilian way, meaning, everything is fine, like a clear blue sky.

happy new year, happy new life

2004-12-29T04:07:00.000-08:00

well, another cicle of life comes to an end. i've never been more filled with hope in my life before. i believe that life is now, and that today we have access to the matter for the creation of universes. today i'm happy, and i'm creating a beautiful future. and hope is feeling that my next "todays" will be as happy as or more happy than "this" today. for the first time in my life i have no fear. i may be sad, i may cry, things may change, i may lose friends and loved ones, i may get angry and nervous because of work and all, but in the neverending cicle of life there's this feeling of bliss and gratefulness for the gift of existence. i wish everyone could feel this way.

HAPPY 2005 !!!

"quem teve a idéia de cortar o tempo em fatias, a que se deu o nome de ano, foi um indivíduo genial. industrializou a esperança fazendo-a funcionar no limite da exaustão. doze meses dão para qualquer ser humano se cansar e entregar os pontos. aí entra o milagre da renovação e tudo começa outra vez com outro número e outra vontade de acreditar que daqui para adiante vai ser diferente." (Carlos Drummond de Andrade)

“who had the idea of cutting time in slices, calling it ‘year’, was a genius. turned hope into a machine and made it work until the edge of exhaustion. twelve months are enough to make any human being get tired and give up. then comes the miracle of renewal and everything begins again with another count and another will to believe that, from now on, everything will be different.”

i'll be counted in!

2004-12-15T06:43:00.000-08:00

today is a very special day: i've just purchased my PEARL JAM TEN CLUB MEMBERSHIP! and if i'm not mistaken, today is the last due day to be entitled to receive the Xmas single! even if it's not, ok, now i'm there. at the far end of the line, at the 100th row, but i'm there! that's what i call a Xmas gift! i'm as happy as a little child, really, it's great to feel like that! 2004 turned out to be a great year too. we don't have thanksgiving day here, so i try to give thanks everyday for every little good thing that happens to me. today is a special thanksgiving day!

now i'm indifference

2004-12-01T11:57:00.000-08:00

take the which pearl jam song are you? quiz, a product of the pearljammers community.

corduroy

2004-12-01T11:39:00.002-08:00

take the which pearl jam song are you? quiz, a product of the pearljammers community.

(?) - gone

2004-11-09T06:07:00.000-08:00

gone (by deav)
Rio, Nov 2004 (?)

i’ve been searching
then you came
but you had your fingers crossed behind your back
i built a castle of cards
then it crumbled down
leaving behind just a pile of wreck

but i don’t need to be here
crawling
collecting crumbs of affection
no i don’t need to be here
kneeling
begging for a bit of attention

so i’m gone
i’m gone
i’m gone
and i’ll never be back
now i’m gone
i’m gone
i’m gone
and the last thing you’ll see is the back of my neck

i really thought i had found what i was looking for
but i was only half a being
now i know i was wrong
i must be one
to deserve a whole feeling

but i don’t need to be here …

so i’m gone …

i’m gone
i’m gone
i’m gone
the further i can from you

i’ll run
i’ll run
as if i had a gun aimed at the back of my neck

* * *

off line

2004-11-08T13:57:00.000-08:00

i guess the RM is down again, i couldn't get access since friday. or, i got busted by the IT people at work, and they locked me in. either way, i'm just not sadder because of the sorrow of the last couple of days and the poorly slept nights (it's been two weeks now, insomnia and a heat wave; or is it the summer, and some cold waves ? WHATEVER). so i subscribed the rumor pit, the newsletter issued by the ten club people. at least i'll get to know the news. but i miss the arguments and the silly talk and being in contact with human beings. who like Pearl Jam, of course.

grief

2004-11-08T05:41:00.000-08:00

i hope that what happened was not what was about to happen. that what was about to happen is a good thing and still is going to happen. because one of my best friends lost his mother last friday. less than two weeks after his wedding. i guess she couldn't stand being without him. crazy stuff. i don't think the "toll has fallen" for him yet. he's joking and all as he always does, but he's sooo sad. and i'm sad for him. he called me sister, i called him brother and said that i love him. he asked me to sing at the funeral, my voice could barely come out. she was cremated yesterday. talking of the devil, he's just got here, although he's in vacation! love you, man!

slow

2004-11-04T10:33:00.000-08:00

everything seems to be going slow today. i couldn't reach RM (gone again?), things at work that were already going back and forth went backwards again. but there's this feeling of pressure almost touchable, i cant' stop moving my feet, i feel hot and swollen. i'm almost hysterical, i feel like i'm climbing up the walls. ok, i'm ovulating. but it's not only that. i feel it coming, a new vibration. what's going to happen? antecipation for what?

D21C IN RIO

2004-11-01T13:47:00.000-08:00

this is what i posted today at RM:
"when Jim Morrison died i was a little girl. in my teen years (the awful 80’s), Jim, Janis Joplin and Jimmy Hendrix formed, for me, the Unholy Trinity, those who burned like fireworks, not candles, mythical entities that had this never land appeal, so seducing to a young eager heart. but, the fact is, i never became a fan (not he way i’m a Pearl Jam fan), it was a feeling of awe for a lost paradise when people still believed that a flower had power, that there could be peace and love on the earth, before war, oil crisis, glitter and leggings took over, followed by more war, market economy, globalization, computers and mobiles. imagine my surprise when i got the news: the doors of the 21st century are playing in Rio! i had to be there, it’s at least, a historical event. but nothing had prepared for what i was about to experience. Claro Hall is a medium sized venue (about 8.500 people), and it was crowded. we arrived late, about ten minutes before the show began. suddenly, “fortuna imperatrix mundi” began to play, and there they were, Ray Manzareck, Robby Krieger, Ian Atsbury, Angelo Barbera (bass) and Ty Dennis (drums; an animal!). they played almost all the classics (i missed People Are Strange, i heard they played it in São Paulo the night before): L.A. Woman, Love Me Two Times, When the Music's Over, Touch Me, Whiskey Bar, Riders on the Storm (only after the encore break!). before playing Five to One, Manzarek said that they loved us, they loved Brazil, that we should make love to them and they would like to make love to us, that we should find love in our hearts for all humankind … but for George W. Bush! that was funny. another highlight was Krieger’s flamenco guitar solo in Spanish Caravan. but the greatest surprise was in Break on Through, when a group of drum players from a samba school from Rio (Mocidade Independente de Padre Miguel, something like Independent Youth of Father Michael – it’s a city district) got on the stage and played olodum drum riffs with the band. man, they really got us then, the crowd went crazy! and the big teaser was, goes without saying, Light My Fire, the last but one, fifteen-minute song with a Eleanor Rigby riff tag, and duels between the band and one of the Brazilians, the guy with the tambourine (here, it’s really small and played with a thin stick). insane! boys and girls who could easily be my kids were there, enjoying every minute, singing all the lyrics, the guys were in ecstasy. in the end, the crowd was screaming the end! the end! but Manzareck said that it was sacred for Jim Morrison… the last thing he did was recite for us the two most famous and controversial sentences in the history of rock: father, i wanna kill you; mother, i wanna fuck you! a last word about the show: it’s been said in the media that Ian Atsbury is playing Morrison when he sings with D21C. man, i don’t know, but it was really weird. he didn’t look like Jim on saturday night (not as much as he does, i think, in some pictures i've seen), he had a red head bandana (what could be more 80’s, for hack’s sake?) and sometimes he danced like Axl Rose (or the other way around… whatever). but if you closed your eyes, it was scary, you’d swear Jimmy was singing. there was a moment when, i’m truly convinced of that, Jimmy was there, cause Ian started the Indian dance! all in all, a memorable event. i’m glad i could feel a breeze of the sixties and totally trip at a Doors show. better late than never…"

happy again

2004-10-29T14:30:00.000-07:00

because RM is back! it's been two weeks now. start from scratch. no more empty mail box. thrilling discussions. making of new acquaintances. a different way of being lonely, that's what these virtual social contacts are. not less important at all, i remember well my reaction when the board went down. i'm ok now.

what that i feared the most...

2004-10-18T07:19:00.000-07:00

has met me halfway: an empty e-mail box. man, i feel lonely. in the last couple of years i've been learning the difference between alone and lonely. definitely, lonely is much worse. you're surrounded by people that you love and yet you devaluate their presence, as if they weren't there, or worse, as if they didn't matter, they were not enough. though you feel like crap, that's, bottomline, the summit of selfishness, of egocentrism (if this word exists... whatever). so, i feel twice as bad. one life saver, though: i got my Buffy Sainte-Marie album and i'm totally blown away by "God is alive/Magic is afoot". it makes me cry everytime. i have to sing that song!

WTF!

2004-10-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

i just got really bad news: the Red Mosquito Forum is closed! too much data, no money. i'm really sad, it's been a life saver through these times of trouble. where can i go now when i can't stand the environment? i feel like a lost child, it's so shallow to say, but it felt like a big family without the bad stuff. maybe there's something that can be done. hope dies last...

(?) sad today

2004-10-13T13:18:00.000-07:00

sad today (by deav)
Rio, Out 2004 (?)

nothing’s changed
no tragic event’s taken place
it’s not cause this room feels strange
or i can’t remember my face
i just feel so sad
i just feel so sad today

it’s not cause i’m lonely
it’s not cause i’m getting old
it’s not cause it’s raining
it’s not cause it’s getting cold
i just feel so sad
i just feel so sad today

it’s not cause dreams seem pointless
now that the world’s at war
not cause children are starving
now that hope’s so far
i just feel so sad
i just feel so sad today

it’s not cause i hurt all over
it’s not cause i’m filled with sorrow
it’s not cause the movie is over
it’s not cause there’s work tomorrow
i just feel so sad
i just feel so sad today

* * *

(?) almost

2004-10-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

almost (by deav)
Rio, Out 2003 - Ago 2004 (?)

you almost held my hand
you almost held me tight
i almost told you almost all
i almost felt inside

i almost showed you all of myself
you almost hide from me all of yourself
we almost kissed each other
we almost made love that night

you almost didn’t fall in love with me
i almost didn’t fall out of love with you
i almost didn’t let you go
you almost didn’t want to be with me

i almost chose to be together
you almost went away instead
if those who almost die still live
those who almost live are almost dead
almost dead

you almost needed me
i almost didn’t stop needing you
you almost used me a little bit
i almost let you use almost all of me

you almost didn’t know what to do with me
you almost didn’t know what to think of me
you almost touched my hair
you almost showed you cared (or didn’t care)

you almost didn’t fall in love with me …

though you almost didn’t love me
i almost loved you…

* * *

furtherland

2004-10-07T14:11:00.000-07:00

it's been a really great experience, to be able to talk about my favorite band for the last 19 months now: Pearl Jam. it's great to talk with people from all over the world who share the same joy of being a fan of the band. it's been like part of my re-adolescence (middle-life crisis, yet?), it's been good, it makes me feel happy. the new things i've been learning, the music new to me, it's so exciting! i found out i actually like punk rock! it doesn't frighten me anymore. i got three Ramones albums, a Buzzcocks album, a collection of punk music from History of Rock, a collection of garage rock, and so far i enjoy every minute of it. Pearl Jam has widened my musical horizons, cause they do a cover, then i go after the original recording, a fall in love with the band. it happened with The Who. it's such a creative moment for me, my playing is improving, i've been practicing a lot playing PJ songs, my greatest feat was learning to play Dead Man, one of PJ's most impressive songs to me, all by myself, just by seeing the dvd Live At The Garden. the only set-back is i'm spending a huge amount of money on cds and dvds. the more i spend, the more i get, that's what i always say. low phase and all, that's the best time of my life. NOW!

hey, there

2004-09-16T14:57:00.000-07:00

been some time, hun? been posting in further lands. the lyrics are coming slowly. been working less, but it feels like more. hard to stand a days work, hard to stand being alone at home. ha, gave myself a dvd player for my birthday, that's been good to watch PEARL JAM through the nights. chock treatment for the low phase. and after 25 years, i could finally see Led Zeppelin play. Goddess, THEY WERE GOOD. blog is lonely, sad i never get a comment. even a bad one. alone in the crowd. in "furtherland" at least we share, watch the arguments, read some crap, get some human contact. low phase... there are some features missing (italic, bold) or have i done some shit? anybody in/out there? the truth? no? and now my favorite word after FUCK: WHATEVER.

(?) - lonely

2004-08-27T15:25:00.000-07:00

lonely (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003 - Mai-Ago 2004 (?)

space measured by time
time measured by how i feel
time passes differently to each one
i believe

drag my big heart around
(it) doesn’t fit in the subway
it shatters, you should see
beautifully

it’s nonsense, i know
but let me imagine you
through all the lonely nights
sad, as it may be, it’s true
the countless times
that i’ve made love to you
without you here

the silly things we do
to fill the hole inside
they’re not enough to wash
away the fear

one eye green, one eye blue
i made it hard to find
i sabotage myself
pathetically

it’s hopeless, i know
but let me treasure you
for just a little while
strange as it may be, it’s true
when things are crumbling down
it only takes the thought of you…

* * *

(?) - butterfly effect

2004-08-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

butterfly effect (by deav)
Rio, Jul-Ago 2004 (?)

we become the choices we make
but we never care much
‘bout the promises we break

and as for the road we take
we can’t help wondering
‘bout the road not taken

when everything sounds like an omen
we get frozen
scared of the next step

the more we try
to avoid the consequences
the more we become
the agents of our own fate

what do we do?
who can i turn to
if the pain is self inflicted
and i’m the only one to blame?

where can we go?
what does the future keep?
if tomorrow doesn’t come
until it becomes today?

skeletons we keep in the closet
come back to haunt us
lurking around our soul

and as for the sins we overlook
sooner or later
evil collects its toll
what do we do ? …

* * *

i will be beaten

2004-08-17T07:54:00.000-07:00

so now i discover that writing in lower case is bad... after all the work of deliberately taking the upper case format from all the "i"... . maybe i can be excused for taking the liberty, because i'm not a native speaker (though that's not really the reason why i do it). does it really bother anyone (else)? sorry, but that's my way. the web is supposed to be a democratic forum, where freedom of speech and expression can be put into practice. there are worse things to worry about on the net, things that can be harmful to people's minds and spirits. but the question is, who sets the rules? who controls the controller ? i believe there's a common sense, a sense of what is good, that is above all the differences. this sense tells me, that "lower case x upper case" issue is too small to bother. but i bothered to write about it, so let me be beaten. for that.

ufa !

2004-08-09T15:11:00.000-07:00

i finished posting my lyrics today, finally. feels a little like delivering a child (though i've never gone through the experience in this life) ... now they're out there. looking forward to writing the next forty. it seems like they're not as many as they should be considering the time it took me to write them. but they mean a lot, they're parts of me, layers of skin.

(?) - barely living

2004-08-09T14:43:00.000-07:00

barely living (by deav)
Rio, Jul 2004 (?)

wake up, the clock is ringing
stand up, the room is spinning
back down,
it’s there, but i can’t see the sun

eight minutes more, the clock
is snoozing, i get up again
eyes blurred,
i stand up and just stumble on

i can’t see my face,
hidden by scrambled hair
in sleepy confusion,
yawning, i mumble
i’m barely living

one hour to get ready
and leave, twenty minutes to get there
where i am, yet i am not

feel like a ghost, a lost soul
things flow like in slow motion
feel like a fish inside a water bowl

night falls, all the way back
knowing tomorrow will be
the same,
head on the pillow i wonder
i’m barely living

* * *

exposed - crazy # 3

2004-08-09T14:40:00.000-07:00

crazy #3 (by deav)
Rio, Mai 2003 - Jun 2004
(exposed)

i could smoke a pack of cigarettes in a roll
i could stop eating
i could stop bathing, cleaning up

i could develop a heavier addiction
i could have bad effects
and call up all my neighbors for help

when all i want is a little conversation
i could repeat myself
i could repeat myself

but i don’t
but i don’t
but i don’t

i could take my clothes off on the street
i could fuck the first person i meet
i could curse everyone at work
there are many fucked up things
that i could think of

when all i want is a little bit of attention
i could hurt myself
i could kill myself

but i don’t
but i don’t
but i don’t

guess i’m not so crazy after all (yet)
guess i’m not so crazy…

* * *

exposed - retrograde # 2

2004-08-09T14:39:00.000-07:00

retrograde #2 (by deav)
Brasília, Mai 2004
(exposed)

sit here
watching planes go by
sucking smoke
as they cross the dark sky
it’s not that
i haven’t been like this before
only now i feel lonely and sore

miles away from home
thinking ‘bout nothing
a little bit ‘bout you
but that’s a sad thing
if home is where your heart is
then i’m homeless
with a shattered heart like this

i wonder
if you were here with me
should i need
someone help me be
if only
i could find an answer
it would be good if i
could understand the questions

so old
but never started living
crazy dreaming
i feel like losing it
no plane
can take me to your eyes
at least there’re fireflies

if only i could make some sense…

* * *

(?) - red moon

2004-08-09T14:37:00.000-07:00

red moon (by deav)
Rio, Mar - Abr 2004 (?)

sometimes
i wonder it’s my life i’m living
or somebody else’s

it’s time
to figure out a way of digging
an exit for myself

cause
everything i wanted to do
everything i wanted to know
is falling down

all the time
i wonder why i’m here just sleeping
i wanna be awake

if only i could remember
maybe i could stop dragging
the chains i must break

but
i get more and more wrapped up
in this thread of madness

look into my eyes
you know you just gotta say it
tell me why
please stay (say it)

* * *

exposed - retrograde

2004-08-09T14:35:00.000-07:00

retrograde (by deav)
Rio, Jan 2004
(exposed)

invaded my time
invaded my space
don’t like it, don’t like it

invaded my thoughts
changed my plans
don’t like it, don’t like it

is it all worth
for the way you make me feel?

took hold of my body
i like it, i like it

it’s so hard to change my ways
do i like it? i don’t like it

is it all worth …?

it’s too early to say i love you
so i won’t, no i won’t

guess i’m not ready for you
no i’m not, no i’m not

is it al worth …?

* * *

exposed - winged

2004-08-09T14:34:00.000-07:00

winged (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003
(exposed)

down on the subway
the lights are cold
but i feel warm
almost feel like i belong

i’ll be getting there soon
the rest of my life awaits me
guess now it won’t be long

i’ve come to realize
i’ve got to leave the cave
oh, what a surprise
the wings are on me now
i fly to the sun, i burn
i’ll be reborn somehow

i feel so old yet so young
everything is changing fast
hope i don’t do anything wrong
i feel so weak yet so strong
will anything i’ve been last
i have to move away go on

i’ve come to realize
i’ve got to leave the nest
oh, what a surprise
the wings are on me now
i fly to the sun, i burn
i’ll be reborn somehow

* * *

(?) - lost umbrellas

2004-08-09T14:32:00.000-07:00

lost umbrellas (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003 (?)

the smoke i don’t exhale
where does it go?
the tears that i don’t shed
do they drench my heart? i drown
do i drown from the inside?

the things that i forget
where do lost memories go?
and all the paths i’ve walked
where do i go? do i go?
or just lie by the side of the road?

old answers don’t fit
when questions change

does love hurt? does pain kill?
what about the water that flows to the sea
is it the same that rains over me?

do thoughts fly? where do lost dreams go?
how many umbrellas have you lost?
have you found, have you ever found any?

old answers don’t fit
when questions change

* * *

(?) - truth

2004-08-09T14:31:00.000-07:00

truth (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003 (?)

oh, tell me your secret
the one i have to know
if you tell me i’ll decide
the way i want to go

your telling me is crucial
to the step i have to take
your answer’s fundamental
to the choice i wish to make

so tell me what you’ve been hiding
from me
oh, don’t be afraid
the truth will set you free

don’t panic, it’s not like you’re
confessing a sin our a crime
got an idea of what you’re keeping
so tell me and save us precious time

don’t worry bout losing what we have
your secret can’t be so bad
for i can’t be completely wrong
i’ve learned it with my heart
not with my head

so tell me what you’ve been hiding
from me
oh, don’t be afraid
the truth will set us free…

* * *

exposed - half

2004-08-09T14:29:00.000-07:00

half (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003
(exposed)

i’ve cleaned up half the house
i’ve washed half the dishes
but the clothes i’ve washed them all
i have lived half my life
i’ve learned half the speeches
but the truth i think i’ll never learn it all

guess i’ll never know
if the glass is half full or half empty
guess it turns out the same in the end

i’ve said many lies
guess half of them were true
and of the loves i’ve loved
half of them were real
i have been half a being
looking for another half to fulfill me
i guess now i’m whole
looking for another whole, still

guess i’ll never know…

* * *

exposed - untouchable

2004-08-09T14:27:00.000-07:00

untouchable (by deav)
Rio, Ago 2003
(exposed)

don’t look at me this way
i don’t think i can resist
maybe i don’t want to
you don’t need to insist

what is it that you’ve got
that makes me feel like a prey?
it should be bad but it’s not
it’s weird to like it this way

don’t touch me this way
don’t touch me this way
don’t touch me that way again

never felt like this before
for sure it is something new
i don’t want to wait no more
i wish to give in to you

this total loss of control
it could be good or so bad
right or wrong i don’t know
you’ve crawled up inside my head

don’t touch …

* * *

harvest (?) - lazy young dressmaker

2004-08-09T14:26:00.000-07:00

lazy young dressmaker (by deav)
Rio, Jul 2003
(harvest?)

lazy young dressmaker
remember what your grandmamma said
keep your thread short
keep your scissors sharp
you got plenty of work ahead

gotta sew a shirt for your man
ain’t got money for a piece of silk
gotta harvest the cotton in the field
with your own two small bare hands…

lazy young dressmaker…

spin the cotton into a fine thread
weave the cloth in the loom
careful not to stain the white with red
‘cause your man will be home soon

lazy young dressmaker…

gotta sew a quilt for your child
paint the scenes with colorful shreds
keep your stitches small and steady
for in three months it must be ready

lazy young dressmaker…

* * *

(?) - supercalifragilistic day

2004-08-09T14:23:00.000-07:00

supercalifragilistic day (by deav)
Rio, Jun 2003 (?)

i remember him walking up our street
his brown suit, his grey hat
and his magical bag
he was hard to miss

he would bring joy every time he came
not only cause he brought
candy bags my height
but cause from him i learned
the awe of simple things
that he should disappear, that’s not right

i’m just here taking cotton candy
and popcorn from my bag
our laughter lifts us up
and brings a supercalifragilistic day
i’m just here, taking cocoanut candies
and mint gum, from my bag
our laughter lifts us up
and brings a supercalifragilistic day

i would go down the slide right into his arms
of wooden pieces i would build my castle
with stories about the laponians on my mind

he was our own private mary poppins
our very own summer santa claus
funny that my kids say now
i’m the one that brings the feeling of wonder
he used to bring to our house

i’m just here, taking lollypops
and lace lamps from my bag
our laughter lifts us up
and brings a supercalifragilistic day
i’m just here, taking flying umbrellas
and teddy bears from my bag
our laughter lifts us up
and brings a supercalifragilistic day

* * *

harvest (?) - hope

2004-08-09T14:22:00.000-07:00

hope (by deav)
Rio, Jun 2003
(harvest?)

one minute you were here
the center of my life
though i didn’t think of that all the time
the other you were gone, taken away
i didn’t figure out why till today

i regret i took you for granted
watching you grow up
was something so certain
it’s hard to realize
your image is vanishing
your picture tells me
it’s nobody’s fault but mine

sorry it’s been so long
that for an hour or so
i manage to forget you
but then i remember
what it is to walk in the world
with a hole
where there used to be a heart

sometimes i wake up from a dream
where i was holding you again
i just keep on searching
i wonder what keeps me going
it’s hope, just hope

i wonder if all of this will ever be over
the worst thing is not knowing
i confess sometimes
i wish i got bad news
what kind of person have i become?

sorry it’s been so long
that for an hour or so
i manage to forget you
but then i remember
what it is to walk in the world
with a hole where there used to be a heart

* * *