a dança das coisas

Summerlines
Originally uploaded by openyourheart_

foram as portas que se fecharam por si num movimento de tango cansado.
a luz do sol despiu-se das cortinas e invadiu o espaço sem preconceitos, envolveu as coisas, as mobílias, os retratos, definiu-lhes as formas e pediu-lhes a mão para uma dança de sombras interminável.

as paredes: o palco. o chão.

o silêncio: a música.

trancou as portas. estendeu-se na cama e deixou-se dançar.


até a noite cair.

the virtual reality according to Marcel Proust

ben and paul
Originally uploaded by Olivia Bee

the real without being actual, ideal without being abstract.

quiet protests

I kindly ask you to pick up your things and leave. Take your bags, your words, your tears over smiles, your pictures, your dreams and your diseases. Don't forget to put on the coat in your way out. Your coat, the one you always say it is not warm enough. Take your scarf and your red dotted umbrella. Wear those old shoes, the old-fashioned but cosy ones. I know you don't like them that much anymore...
Leave. I'll come just right after you.

The world outside is cold. enjoy the little warmth your belongings give you. when i leave i'll go naked.



image from Erin Mulvehill

Queen of hearts

chamaram-lhe meretriz. não pela leviandade do nome mas pela transparência da palavra. Ofereceram-lhe pérolas. Num acordo unilateral com sabor a desejo. Sem pensar, deixou-se levar neste acto de escravatura consciente que toma mais do corpo do que da mente.

Chamaram-lhe meretriz. puta. mulher da vida.


São os sinónimos que se alteram e não os significantes.

Ela. Só ela conhece. Escrava do desejo. Dona do coração.

The camera(wo)man

Originally uploaded by Sabino .

"All the pop arts are put together this way, feelingly, bit by bit in a constant negotiation among humans and machines testing the capacities and powers and limits of all the players, human and nonhuman, adapting to the resistances of all."


on Walter Benjamin in "Mapping Benjamin"

unknown crowds

There are people outside making noises as crowds,

shouting unrecognizable sounds on the streets,

repeating names unknown to no one in particular,

dancing to silent melodies...


in front of my window.




there are people outside.

inside... i wonder who they are, where they come from and where they're going.

so(m)bra

São cigarros fumados, copos bebidos, palavras desperdiçadas que me trazem de volta aqui.




Ao sítio onde só a sombra é o que sobra.

. lies .

tattoted your existence in an eternity that didn't belong to us.

dance for the selfish

Originally uploaded by le_vide

dance.
dance.
dance.
spit on his face.
fuck him. use his hand. his tongue.
cry.
cry.
cry.
pull the skin out of his heart for a fur coat.
try.
try.
try.
and fail. with pleasure.

Originally uploaded by le_vide

Quem me dera
Ao menos uma vez
Ter de volta todo o ouro
Que entreguei a quem
Conseguiu me convencer
Que era prova de amizade
Se alguém levasse embora
Até o que eu não tinha


texto tirado de: http://www.atrama.blogspot.com/

she stays the same

it is time to dream again...


NOW!

free falling...

Originally uploaded by liekeroomijs

plötzlich ist der boden nicht mehr da





und man muss trotzdem stehen.

spectacular mistakes

Ofereceu o corpo para dar à luz os demónios da ironia...






... e sangrou toda a noite. todos os dias.

Yes.

There's no life like the movies. no kiss caught up on the rain. no violins in loneliness. no looks with thousand words. no sunlights hidden in the palm of your hands. no shiny red shoes on grey sidewalks. no rainbows in the taste of your lips. no memories saved from harm. no clocks running counter clockwise. no happy end. no end.


And if the moon should stop on my skin it will be just for a little while. a little while.

plastic doll

There was in fact a plastic body on the floor of my brain. and it did look like mine.

Cleanliness : illusion

Berlin.
Originally uploaded by Sandra Beijer

We'd never want to touch
a bed again, a sofa or a chair,
if we could see the things that live in there.
There's millions of them; loads of things with legs.
They fornicate and then they lay their eggs.
They think our dirt is lovely; they survive
by eating what we shed. They are alive
'cause bits of us are dead...



Sally Potter, Yes

Liberation

Liberation
Originally uploaded by zack attack*

Dependent, entirely, on things unseen.






James Baldwin

black surprises in pink boxes

there is indeed a kind of magic in the word possible.
The kind that makes you thrill, fear, desire or reject.


it's a game.


no time. no place. no rules.


you breath. you play.


who wins?

Ende?

A insipidez ganha textura neste espaço onde tudo é a falta de expressão e a falta de gravidade separa letalmente o sentido das palavras. Deixa-as á deriva. É aqui que tudo se resume ao pouco que tudo é e os sentidos apodrecem no tempo nessa busca incessante de objectos de desejo perdidos algures para lá das fronteiras. O deserto deixa um sabor seco na boca. Pesado.

A little nothing at all

Originally uploaded by dan.i.ela

as palavras perderam a forma. Agora seguro o silêncio com as duas mãos e espero que me derreta por entre os dedos.

Não te esqueças de fazer barulho ao entrares.