Soon Forget

Sorry is the fool who trades his soul for a Corvette, thinks he'll get the girl, he'll only get the mechanic...

"Date a girl who reads"

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

Dust Lane

Pois é, o francês Yann Tiersen, famoso pela banda sonora do filme Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amelie Poulain vem a Portugal para apresentar o seu mais recente Dust Lane - dia 5 de Maio na LX Factory, dia 7 no Hard Club do Porto.

Aqui fica Dust Lane, para aguçar a curiosidade...

Band of Horses @ Aula Magna 7/02/11

Chega tarde mas vem. Para aqueles que assistiram e para aqueles que não assistiram, aqui fica a fantástica Funeral, ao vivo na Aula Magna. O momento da noite, na minha opinião...

De volta

"Há sem dúvida quem ame o infinito,
Há sem dúvida quem deseje o impossível,
Há sem dúvida quem não queira nada -
Três tipos de idealistas, e eu nenhum deles:
Porque eu amo infinitamente o finito,
Porque eu desejo impossivelmente o possível, 
Porque eu quero tudo, ou um pouco mais, se puder ser, 
Ou até se não poder ser..."
                                                 
Álvaro de Campos - O que há em mim é sobretudo cansaço

"They hide the ocean in a shell"

 

(Half Light I - Arcade Fire)

You told us that
We were too young
Now that night's closing in
And in the half light
We run
Lock us up safe
And hide the key
But the night tears us loose
And in the half light
We're free

Strange how the half light
Can make a place new
You can't recognize me
And I can't recognize you

We run through the streets
That we know so well
And the houses hide so much
We're in the half light
None of us can tell
They hide the ocean in a shell

The ocean in a shell

Our heads are just houses
Without enough windows
They say you hear human voices
But they only echo

They only echo
They only echo
Only echo

(We are not listening, we are on the streets)
(We are not listening, we are on the streets)

Eros e Psique

Conta a lenda que dormia
Uma Princesa encantada
A quem só despertaria
Um Infante que viria
De além do muro da estrada.

Ele tinha que, tentado,
Vencer o mal e o bem, 
Antes que, já libertado,
Deixasse o caminho errado
Por o que à Princesa vem.

A Princesa Adormecida, 
Se espera, dormindo espera, 
Sonha em morte a sua vida, 
E orna-lhe a fronte esquecida, 
Verde, uma grinalda de hera.


Longe o Infante, esforçado, 
Sem saber que intuito tem, 
Rompe o caminho fadado, 
Ele dela é ignorado, 
Ela para ele é ninguém.

Mas cada um cumpre o Destino - 
Ela dormindo encantada, 
Ele buscando-a sem tino
Pelo processo divino
Que faz existir a estrada.

E, se bem que seja obscuro
Tudo pela estrada fora, 
E falso, ele vem seguro, 
E vencendo estrada e muro, 
Chega onde em sono ela mora.

E, inda tonto do que houvera, 
À cabeça, em maresia, 
Ergue a mão, e encontra hera, 
E vê que ele mesmo era
A Princesa que dormia.

Fernando Pessoa - Cancioneiro