there's some people who don't like change...

for everyone else... there's wikileaks :)

from the ports to the fins, with love :))

Real - idade !!!!

Ok, quem é que ainda não está farto de ouvir
a conversa do Mourinho e do Guardiola???
Agora eu, menina que adora a verdade,
passei-me com este VÍDEO da página do Real...
Tiro o chapéu ao Mourinho e a todos (Ferdinand, por exemplo)
os que viram o lance correctamente, apesar da rapidez.
A verdade, toda a verdade e nada mais que a verdade :)

Kant ia adorar tomar um chá com a D. Amélia

"o próprio sol é que me acompanha!"
quem me dera ver a vida assim!

pela liberdade de expressão! Sempre!

post anti walter benjamin ;)

somewhere there is a poem

Lyrics of "Somewhere There Is A Poem" by Gina Loring
Somewhere there is a poem
And I want to write this poem
I want to speak this poem
I want to feel this poem
I want to experience this poem
Cradle it in my arms
Feed it a good meal
And send it on its merry way

I want to sing this poem
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound”
Somewhere there is a poem screaming
Get up, stand up
Stand up for your rights
Human beings, human beings
Beings being so
Caught up in the tangible material surface
Or that they never actually feel
Their touch is liquid and grazes right through
But misses the core
This poem whispers to me
And rocks me to sleep
And tells me stories of indigenous people
Diseased and tricked and slaughtered
And made to be extinct
But this ain’t no pterodactyl
Or tyrannosaurus rex blood flowing through my veins

I am a Creek American Indian
I exist
I am an African
I am an old Jewish woman muttering prayers in Yiddish
As my name is replaced with a number on my arm
I am a little Japanese girl
Staring in horror
As my village is bombed and burnt to the ground
I was born in India, but not to the right caste
So regardless of what I accomplish
I will always be a peasant
I died in Mexico three feet from the border
Gunned down by evil troops
Who shoot for a living
Who sacrifice their souls for
The man-made boundaries of these Americas
Somewhere, there is a poem somewhere
Dozing in subway stations
And flying high on a 405
And taking the L to Brooklyn
The 15 to Vegas
And the Marter through Atlanta
And cruising down a dark street in Oakland is a poem

This poem comes from somewhere deep
Somewhere where the angels sleep
Where pixies dance and mermaids weep
Where hymns are hummed
So God will keep us all in mind on Judgment Day
This poem warns, but does not sway
For what you do is up to you
Where you go and who you know
If you close up, or if you grow

Somewhere there is a poem about the insanity
Of war, Hiroshima, Hiroshima
Hero, hero, war hero
Hero-, hero-, heroin is
Crack cocaine is
The systematic genocide of my people
Brown skin behind bars
Locked up behind bars
Trapped behind bars
And slaves behind bars
Kept in lines behind bars
Counted behind bars
Bars, there are more bars
Selling alcohol on a single reservation in Oklahoma
Than in all of Ventura county, county
Counting me in ‘cause I’m down for the revolution
Which may not be televised
And may not get radio play
But it will be told through poetry
‘Cause somewhere there is a poem

This poem speaks to me and draws me in
Like an amusement park to a kid
I want to freak this poem and dream this poem
And share it with y’all
Hold up, shhhhh
I just did

gosto de palavrões - MEC por Miguel Guilherme

analogia

a minha vida dos últimos 20 anos, contada em 2 minutos
e vá lá... de uma forma até divertida ;)
sinceramente: também estou a precisar imenso de uma bica!

voltar. ao sul da minha vida, onde pertenço.

salvem os ricos

dia da mãe

...sway me more... sway me smooth ... sway me now...

notas ao som da marcha

casei ao som desta música.
no filme depardieu diz "non" - devia estar a adivinhar ;)...

com o passar dos anos, sempre que ouvia isto sentia-me outravez a ver o filme. hoje dei-me ao trabalho de escutar 4 versões diferentes desta obra. a ver o que dava.

enfim, quando era mais menina e mais ingénua achava que se tivesse a vida da Elisabeth Taylor iria juntar os nomes dos maridos todos uns aos outros, em vez de os substituir. a ver o que dava.

as quatro versões que ouvi hoje não serviriam para casamento nenhum!
esta versão - de jordi savall - continua a ser única!

a Elisabeth Taylor deve ter sabido que a vida que temos não é feita de juntar nomes.

esta é a música do abismo.
 a minha do meu.

ver, ouvir e pensar

Lhasa de Sela 1972 - 2010

sting for the season

abrazos rotos

soundtrack do dia

o sol nas traseiras, a minha avó, as revistas maria cheias de roberto carlos, a tia a coser com paninhos floridos e o vapor a subir da roupa passada a ferro nas tardes de inverno.
que tudo o mais vá pró inferno.