Dream on girl

Come back to see the day
You lost your heart and all your hopes
I'll take you to see the sunrise
And try to catch your ghost, oh

Once I wanted to be the greatest

Hardly supports. It is becoming increasingly intense. More engaging. Begins to be soft and accumulates in the neck and the palms. Then flows into the chest to the navel and sheds. Expands throughout the body and there is no cell in which not feel. The lips, thirsty, they are always appealing to the tongue wet them, or a few drops of water to quench. The ends and warm temperatures reach almost unbearable. Then spreads throughout the body and radiates a warm glow. Each drop carries a rainbow and creates a single frame across the skin. Fancy a symbiosis with the sea and thus quench the heat this time.

P.S -

[No wind or waterfall could stall me

And then came the rush of the flood

Stars of night turned deep to dust]

 

*Thank you for the great(est) photo :)

I think I'm breaking down again

Wicked soul, wicked game

All of your love, baby, can it be mine
All of your love, baby, can it be mine
I'll hate to be the one, the one that you left behind

All of your love, baby, don't you fool around
All of your love, baby, don't fool around
Love is a one thing, baby, that you won't find on the ground

All of your love, I've got to have it one of these days
All of your love, I've got to have it one day
Don't you leave me sweet baby, please come one back this way
Come on back this way
Give me all your love
Give it to me right now
All your love
Don't mess around with my love

P.S- Sighing for something I cannot have. And so am I.

Don't say no because I insist

When an irresistible force such as you
meets an old immovable object like me

Violent will

                       Sentia uma vontade violenta de me desmoronar em ti. Não, não era fazer amor não existe, porra, o amor não se faz. O amor desaba sobre nós já feito, não o controlamos.

Inês Pedrosa, in "Fazes-me Falta"

All that's missing

is you.



P.S- This is the core of it, that I want your happiness,your safety, your success, just as much as I want my own.

Freedom is never free

Be kind to turtles

The purpose of World Turtle Day, May 23, sponsored yearly since 2000 by American Tortoise Rescue, is to bring attention to, and increase knowledge of and respect for, turtles and tortoises, and encourage human action to help them survive and thrive.

Don't ever give up the things you want most

Today I closed my eyes and feel your embrace.

Come quickly

"Penso ainda naquela noite, todos os dias, naquela noite. Por que pensamos sempre as mesmas coisas? Essa vontade que nunca cede. Como se o instante continuasse ali, acontecendo a cada instante, uma e outra vez..."

                                                                        (Carola Saavedra)

P.S- Vem depressa. Vem, antes que eu adormeça.

Nursing a cold

Ain't coming through

                                                      don't tell me that i won't, I CAN.
                                                      don't tell me that i'm not, I AM.
                                           don't tell me that my masterplan ain't coming true.
                                                      don't tell me that i won't, I WILL.
                                                      dont tell me how to think or feel.
                                         dont tell me cause i know what's real, what i can do.
                                                             free me, free me, free me.

P.S- Don't tell me cause I know what's real

       What I can do

All yours

“I quite enjoy the lines on my forehead because they show my life. That’s my history and I like to see that in other people. Like this wrinkle is due to some girl who broke my heart. I don’t want to escape it in any way.”
― Michael Fassbender

And it was like this

18 de Maio, Estádio do Dragão, Porto

[ 50 mil espectadores não deixaram que a chuva estragasse o primeiro concerto dos Coldplay no Porto ]

Before Coldplay

... Se fosse possível ver a big picture, ter acesso ao Google Maps da vida real, relativamente aos 20/30 km em redor do Estádio do Dragão por volta das 19/20 horas da tarde de ontem seria certamente possível testemunhar todas as forças - passando o exagero - confluírem naquele que era o concerto mais badalado do ano em território nacional. O que ninguém previu foi que também a chuva apontasse a mira à cidade do Porto, levando a plateia do Dragão a pintar o estádio de branco-impermeável em contraste com o fundo e a passadeira do palco que pareciam alvo de um ataque massivo de graffiters de todo o mundo.

Indiferente ao dilúvio que se montava em pleno estádio, a britânica Rita Ora, vestida para o verão, mostrou as suas canções com a ajuda de uma banda escondida debaixo de uns toldos e deixou a nu as influências da sua música, algures entre o reggae e o R&B, passando pelo rock bem rasgadinho. Surpresa já perto do final no final: "Say my Name" das Destiny's Child e ainda uma passagem por "Heartbeat" de Nneka. Para perceber melhor do que Rita Ora é feita serão precisos mais do que 30 ou 40 minutos, numa próxima oportunidade. Continua a chover.

No intervalo, tempo para uma sucessão de coisas mais ou menos inesperadas: um grupo de pessoas canta o hino português, há varredores de água em palco, ouve-se Gold Panda nas colunas do Dragão (quais são as probabilidades?), faz-se a "hola" nas bancadas, pede-se aos altifalantes do estádio que se ergam as pulseiras mágicas luminosas que, diziam, faziam parte do espectáculo (só depois foi possível perceber até que ponto). No espaço de cinco minutos, a cultura do entretenimento brilhou em todo o seu esplendor. E continua a chover.

O palco continua feminino com a chegada de Marina and the Diamonds. Menos Maria Rapaz, mais femme fatale resgatada aos anos 80, Marina e os seus muchachos Diamonds, ainda debaixo dos mesmos toldos pouco habituais para concertos deste género - sobretudo tendo em conta a dimensão do palco. Mais uma imagem pouco comum: fazendo justiça ao seu nome, Marina traz um vestido brilhante, microfone numa mão e um guarda-chuva na outra (fazendo justiça ao tempo). Os seus trejeitos vocais lembram Kate Bush, e as suas canções levam-na para territórios semelhantes. Mais baladeira do que aquilo que seria de esperar ao início, Marina acabou por se render aos encantos do rock (com "Bubble Gum Bitch", por exemplo, a lembrar Blondie) e de uma pop mais cadenciada - sempre sem perder os anos 80 de vista e sem largar o guarda-chuva. E continua a chover. "Primadonna" fechou com problemas técnicos mas acabou por dar para vislumbrar Marina sem guarda-chuva.


With Colplay

Ao som da música do Regresso ao Futuro, os Coldplay entram em palco ao som de "Mylo Xyloto", que desencadeia a primeira explosão de fogo de artificio - e de exaltação. Como seria de esperar, os hits sucedem-se uns aos outros numa espécie de best of ao vivo: "In My Place" provoca mais uma avalanche de aplausos e confirma a capacidade dos Coldplay em encher em som e em entusiasmo um estádio a rebentar pelas costuras. Depois de agradecer a perseverança de todos os que aguentaram à chuva pela chegada da banda, Chris Martin senta-se ao piano para o arranque frenético de "Lovers in Japan", que contrasta em tudo com a seguinte "The Scientist", entre trocadilhos com a cidade do Porto, as luzes intermitentes e comandadas à distância (com belo efeito sobretudo visto de cima), e o passa lá, dá cá de vozes entre o público e Chris Martin. De quando em vez são disparados canhões de confetis e atiradas bolas gigantes e coloridas para o meio da plateia e o tom de festa adensa-se.

De repente ilumina-se o palco de amarelo e é a deixa suficiente para que se relembre "Yellow", primeiro despida ao piano e cantada em uníssono, depois próxima da roupagem que deu aos Coldplay o primeiro sinal sério de estrelato. A passagem por A Rush of Blood to the Head, não muito tempo depois, foi oportunidade para "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face" e para ver vincar e de que maneira as diferenças entre os Coldplay entregues ao rock e os Coldplay entregues às doçuras da música pop.

Num abrir e fechar de olhos, o concerto passa para a língua do palco marcada por um X vermelho, já bem no meio do público; não há bateria mas há uma caixa de ritmos, a voz de Rihanna e a sua imagem nos ecrãs gigantes. É tempo de "Princess of China" mas sobretudo de um momento entregue às electrónicas. Daí até "Up in Flames" tomar o seu lugar no palco é um nadinha. Mas o momento, mais do que ser de uma ou de outra canção, é sobretudo de algum intimismo (se é que isso é possível entre 50 mil pessoas).

De regresso ao palco de todas as atenções, Chris Martin dá as boas-vindas a "Don't Let it Break Your Heart", altura em que uns insufláveis semi-alienígenas de cor púrpura decidem mostrar a cara vindos das saídas de emergência do estádio e de pontos estratégicos. "Viva la Vida" surge do nada e provoca uma explosão de entusiasmo de 8.9 na escala de Coldplay. As pulseiras electrónicas (não confundir com as homónimas) piscam ainda mais intensamente, 99.7% das pessoas não têm os pés fixos no chão (e isto não é uma metáfora) porque "Charlie Brown" já se faz ouvir alto e bom som (o que lembra que o som estava realmente muito bom), num momento de contundente concisão pop. A explosão de cores de "Paradise" mostrou, se dúvidas ainda restassem, a apetência e habilidade dos Coldplay para escreverem algumas das canções mais orelhudas da actualidade: canções de peito cheio, melodicamente apuradas (mesmo na sua simplicidade), hinos de fácil identificação para esta geração.

Já no encore, sem que nada o faça prever, Chris Martin surge num pequeno palco no outro extremo do estádio e, sozinho e de guitarra acústica na mão, investe em "Up Against the World" até que, um por um, os restantes Coldplay vão chegando para vestir a canção detalhes após detalhe. Seguiu-se "Speed of Sound" na mesma toada confessional e pouco depois "Clocks" lembra tudo e todos que não existe tal coisa como os Coldplay ficarem sem hits no alinhamento. Mais: demonstra o poder de uma boa linha de piano para o alcance e poderio de uma canção pop que se quer em grande escala.

Para o final estavam guardadas "Fix You" e "Every Teardrop is a Waterfall", momento que serviu para Chris Martin desfilar com a inevitável bandeira portuguesa e para fazer explodir no ar mais um banho de fogo-de-artifício. Última fotografia mental da noite: Chris Martin saindo do palco não sem antes o beijar de joelhos. Minutos depois do final, havia ainda quem entoasse "Viva la Vida" na tentativa de provocar o regresso da banda; Mas sem sucesso. Restou aos 50 mil trautear o êxito favorito dos Coldplay no regresso a casa: afinal de contas, as filas de trânsito à saída do Estádio do Dragão haviam de proporcionar mais uma ou duas horas para acalmar os ânimos de uma noite de emoções fortes.

Some kinf of wonderful

All you have to do is touch my hand
To show me you understand
And something happens to me
That's some kind of wonderful


Any time my little world seems blue
I just have to look at you
And everything seems to be
Some kind of wonderful


I know I can't express
This feeling of tenderness
There's so much I want to say
But the right words just don't come my way


I just know when I'm in your embrace
This world is a happy place
And something happens to me
That's some kind of wonderful

P.S - And I will try to fix you

Donna Summer (1948-2012)

Fix you

I serious message to you.

***

If you forget me

i chose the road of a bird
but i always miss the turn
and the early breezes
i missed those too
... now i’m barley here
and i’m missin’ all my boats
and i’m all unfigured out
and the sun won’t smile on me
i’ve been adoring your sweet smelling skin
you have almost enough to make me forget
is heaven still now
i can’t wait
and in the confusion i’m locked and lost
please stay
the music lifts me high and for a second i’m in heaven
but not a birdback, i’m always pulled back
when the dirt in the air and the wrong keeps coming up clean
even a bird can…can never leave here
i’ve been adoring your sweet smelling skin
you have almost enough to make me forget 

That among these

                                           are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Hello,monday !

Thoughts on a monday.

Cine me

Wuthering Heights

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1181614/

I loved it – although I suspect Brontë fans who think the most admirable take on her novel to date is the musical version starring Cliff Richard in a self-adhesive beard will choke on the film like it’s a misshapen mint humbug.

The wildlife close-ups, the sensitivity to the weather and seasons, the twin obsessions of sex and death: all of this put me in mind of the brutal, lyrical work of the Japanese director Shohei Imamura, particularly his 1983 saga of life in a remote mountain village, The Ballad of Narayama.

Although Arnold and her talented cast succeed at times in evoking a flickering feeling of desperate love and loss, at others – such as Heathcliff’s final scene with Cathy’s corpse – it feels as if she is straining crudely for the extremes. This is an odd, spare film; the essence of Wuthering Heights remains to be captured.

Disturbingly naturalistic.

Remarkable soundtrack designed by Nicolas Becker that incorporates wind, birdsong, barking dogs, rain, the flapping of shutters, the whispering of leaves, the chattering of insects and the creaking of trees into a great symphony of nature.

The film is by no means negligible.

You went in the house of my body

and no longer know who I am, where I am.
Love knows. Love is a bird blind
you never lose your flight.

You brighten up my day

This obsessive, consuming, passionate thing called love.

P.S- He haunts me in my dreams.

Cine me

Haywire

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1506999/

Haywire is missing something. It has a great cast, especially formidable newcomer (and former American Gladiator/current female MMA fighter) Gina Carano. It has a terrific director in cinematic chameleon Steven Soderbergh and enough traditional fight scenes to tantalize even the most shaky-cam weary action aficionado. So what, exactly, does this smart, traditional thriller lack? Energy. Or perhaps a better way to put it is internal drive. Whenever Ms. Carano and the company engage in hand to hand combat, the film flies off the screen. We are drawn into their world and never want to leave. The minute the wounds start to heal and the blood congeals, however, everything dries up and stagnates...including our attention span. 

 It's just too bad then that this origin story (set up to allow for at least two sequels) is so dull. We learn very little about Mallory as a person, enjoy the brief bits with her dad, and can't quite fathom how she wound up with a weasel like Kenneth in the first place (McGregor is great in his insane asylum resident haircut). There is a death scene which is supposed to strike an emotional chord - and doesn't - as well as a payoff that earns more satisfaction from the swear word uttered than the implications to the plot. Throughout, Soderbergh keeps our interest, if not our investment. By the middle, we just want more Carano vs. cast beat downs.

 Toward the end, we are glad to get out of this inert narrative.

Je suis venu te dire que je m'en vais

Tu t'souviens des jours heureux et tu pleures                                             Tu sanglotes, tu gémis à présent qu'a sonné l'heure                                                                  Des adieux à jamais                                                                 Oui je suis au regret                                                                D'te dir'que je m'en vais                                                                Car tu m'en as trop fait 
P.S- Oui, je t'aime

How about you

 When all the lights are low
May not be new, but I like it, how about you?

 

And for that I really do admire him

                       Music expresses the inexpressible. All our songs are about that, about inarticulation.

                                                                                      Bono

Keep going

Thoughts are made of water and water always finds a way.

Dave Eggers

Mother's Day

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?


(1849)
 

                                                               EDGAR ALAN POE

Cine me

We Need to Talk About Kevin

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1242460/

Tilda Swinton leads an excellent cast in a thoughtful and deeply disturbing adaptation of Lionel Shriver's novel.

What happens when bad children happen to good parents? Does it mean they are not, in fact, as good as they had imagined themselves to be? With these questions, British director Lynne Ramsay has created a nihilist tale of guilt and horror. Working with co-writer Rory Kinnear, she has adapted Lionel Shriver's prizewinning 2003 novel – whose much-spoofed title is now part of the language – about a woman whose teenage son Kevin has committed a Columbine-style massacre.

The novel's title is of course ironic, as they never truly get around to the earnest discussions it proposes. In fact we see before us the supposedly constructive, canalising parental activity that leads from reading Robin Hood as a traditional bedside story through children's bows and arrows to a lethal crossbow and the brief, reflective transformation of the pupils of Kevin's eyes into archery targets.

What American Psycho was to consumerism, We Need to Talk About Kevin is to both sexism and feminism, a brilliantly extreme parable, operatically pessimistic. In the end, the audience is left with the same unanswerable question: what made Kevin do it? Nature or nurture? A mother supplies both. Kevin is flesh of her flesh and perhaps an inability to judge him is her awful biological destiny.

 It is tremendously acted by Tilda Swinton (a performance to put aside her protective mother in David Siegel and Scott McGehee's 2001 thriller The Deep End) and by Ezra Miller, with inspired images from cinematographer Seamus McGarvey.



Cine me

Les infidèles

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2087850/

A rare French sketch film, Les infidèles works well thanks to it's main characters (Jean Dujardin, Gilles Lellouche), who are slick in the comedic scenes although limited in dramatic expression. A sex addicts anonymous meeting is especially funny!

Another candle on your cake

Birthdays are filled with yesterday's memories, today's joys, and tomorrow's dreams.