...where the cold wind blows.

Her morning elegance

McNulty: You know why I respect you so much, Bunk?
'Bunk': Mm-mmm.
McNulty: It's not 'cause you're good police, 'cause, y'know, fuck that, right?
'Bunk': Mm. Fuck that, yeah.
McNulty: It's not 'cause when I came to homicide, you taught me all kinds of cool shit about . . . well, whatever.
'Bunk': Mm. Whatever.
McNulty: It's 'cause when it came time for you to fuck me . . . you were very gentle.
'Bunk': You damn right.
McNulty: See, 'cause you could have hauled me out of the garage and just bent me over the hood of a radio car, and . . . no, you were, you were very gentle.
'Bunk': I knew it was your first time. I wanted to make that shit special.
McNulty: It was, man. It fucking was.

help I'm alive

my heart keeps beating like a hammer.
hard to be soft, tough to be tender.

if you're still alive
my regrets are few
if my live is mine
what shouldn't I do?
I get wherever I'm going
I get whatever I need
while my blood's still flowing
and my heart still beats.

-Metric

In Pause Mode Until Someone Press Play

Ainda ontem assisti a um nascimento. Uma rua vazia
encheu-se de beijos pendurados em candeeiros, onde
fadas azuis cintilantes percorriam com a língua a
geometria dos corpos que passavam. Há horas em que
estou quase feliz. Tenho um cd novo da Fnac e
fotografias por revelar do perfume do teu pescoço.
Mas cada vez durmo menos, porque tenho um espelho
de elevador com trunfos na manga que me diz todos
os dias em que regresso a casa:
- Se me ajudares a pisar o chão cheio de flores
que está lá fora não te mostro os reflexos das
lembranças que tens afogadas nos olhos.
Hoje, finalmente abri a boca em espanto e reparei
que tenho um coração partido na língua e 5 minutos de vida.
- Quero dançar no teu corpo e sentir o meu peso nas tuas mãos.

Ana Saramago
in minguante

O contraditório: incómodo mas necessário...

A mediocridade não se explica.

The most important things are the hardest to say

«They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away.
And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried when you were saying it.
That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for the want of a teller but for the want of an understanding ear.»

-Stephen King

stripes on a green field

World builder