segunda-feira, 22 de dezembro de 2014

N'oubliez Jamais

 
 
What is this game searching for love or fame?
It's all the same one of these days you say that
Love will be the cure, I'm not so sure.

segunda-feira, 15 de dezembro de 2014

Photograph

 
 
Loving can hurt
Loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing
That I know
And when it gets hard
You know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive
We keep this love in a photograph
We make these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
And time's forever frozen still
So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holdin' me closer
Til our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone
Wait for me to come home
Loving can heal
Loving can mend your soul
And is the only thing
That I know (know)
I swear it will get easier
Remember that with every piece of ya
And it's the only thing we take with us when we die
We keep this love in a photograph
We make these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Our hearts were never broken
And times forever frozen still
So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holdin' me closer
Till our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone
And if you hurt me
Well that's ok baby there'll be worst things
Inside these pages you just hold me
And I won't ever let you go
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
Wait for me to come home
Oh you can keep me
Inside the necklace you got when you were 16
Next to your heartbeat
Where I should be
Keep it deep within your soul
And if you hurt me
Well that's ok baby there'll be worst things
Inside these pages you just hold me
And I won't ever let you go
When I'm away
I will remember how you kissed me
Under the lamppost
Back on 6th street
Hearing you whisper through the phone
Wait for me to come home

sábado, 6 de dezembro de 2014

Cine Me

 
 
Boyhood
 
 
 
 
 
 
Like the fabled Jesuit, Richard Linklater has taken the boy and given us the man. In so doing, he's created a film that I love more than I can say. And there is hardly a better, or nobler thing a film can do than inspire love.
This beautiful, mysterious movie is a time-lapse study of Mason, growing up from around the age of five to 18, from primary school to his first day in college. It is an intimate epic: over 12 years, Linklater worked with the young actor Ellar Coltrane, shooting scenes every year with him and other cast members, who grow visibly and heart-stoppingly older around him. The director's daughter, Lorelei Linklater, plays Mason's older sister, Samantha; Patricia Arquette is superb as their divorced single mom, hard-working and aspirational, but worryingly condemned to hook up with drunks and give the kids abusive stepdads. Ethan Hawke – his lean, chiselled face softening as the years go by – plays the kids' feckless and unreliable but charming father, who shows up every few weeks in his cool car. And Mason's own face changes from its young, moony openness to a closed, grown-up handsomeness. It is the face he will learn to present to the world.

Boyhood is in touch with a simple, urgent truth: life is terrifyingly short. While our childhood in progress seems like an aeon, to our parents it flashes past in a dreamlike instant. Then to us, afterwards, it changes from an assumed sturdy narrative into a swirling constellation of remembered and half-remembered moments, which drift in and out of reach. It is with something like awe you grasp the obvious fact that Linklater's time-lapse technique could be easily applied to every other character in the film. Children and adults are not separate species.
 
Perhaps Linklater and Ellar Coltrane will come back for sequels: Manhood, Middle Age and so on. Part of me longs to see Mason again, and part thinks there is an exquisitely perfect humility in how the film gently leaves him with his new friends in college. Either way, it is one of the great films of the decade.

terça-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2014

December




"Shall we liken Christmas to the web in a loom? There are many weavers, who work into the pattern the experience of their lives. When one generation goes, another comes to take up the weft where it has been dropped. The pattern changes as the mind changes, yet never begins quite anew. At first, we are not sure that we discern the pattern, but at last we see that, unknown to the weavers themselves, something has taken shape before our eyes, and that they have made something
very beautiful, something which compels our understanding."


Earl W. Count, 4,000 Years of Christmas
 




                                         
P.S- the wings that I need when I wanna fly.