Tenho demasiadas pancas.
30.9.09

29.9.09
27.9.09

24.9.09
23.9.09
22.9.09
21.9.09
The most important things are the hardest things 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 while you were saying it. That’s the worst I think. When the secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller but for an ear.
19.9.09
I’ve always wanted to eat glass with you again, but i never knew how, how to talk without walls dropping on the eve. The nest they made couldn’t break you along the fallen scowled a fence of beaks, but the temple is scathing. Through your veins they were scaling. Through an ice pick of abcess rekoning.
17.9.09
Choro tanto, com direito a baba e ranho, apenas por causa das saudades de Paredes de Coura. Hoje deu-me para ouvir The Temper Trap e lembrei-me logo do concerto, aliás fui para o concerto. Consegui sentir o cheiro que pairava no ar (já devem imaginar qual era...) mas além disso consegui sentir o que estava a sentir nesse momento. É estranho. Acontece-me muitas vezes, não consigo explicar, só sei que faz chorar (ahah rimou). E quem já me conhece vai dizer "Noémi tu também choras por tudo não é de admirar" e a seguir eu digo o "oh" habitual.
Ps: Repetir muitas vezes a mesma palavra num texto não é nada bonito mas que se lixe.
Ps: Repetir muitas vezes a mesma palavra num texto não é nada bonito mas que se lixe.
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