Haiku

Do not forget:
We walk above hell,
looking at the flowers.

Issa (1763-1828)

On Air: Walking Quoyle hell, watching the flowers

Notes from Rome

It 'so much that I do not write something really structured, that does not try to pull down the emotions and feelings. Of thoughts in mind there are far too many odd intersections, no ... I'll get flashbacks 'to explain, partly because of things they have changed a lot, I gave up a safe route, are in the sea, are very lonely, really' are also quite oblivious of the consequences, I live quite the day, tonight I'm in Rome, Milan tomorrow, after tomorrow, who cares is already too far ahead of my ability 'estimates.
I do not care to hide my dislike, distrust of people who love animals and have small eyes (Cary Grant good sign), I have some strange idea in their head.
Spending an evening with a brother, did not judge the choices of his unconventional life, indeed. I worry about some of his choices but the choices in itself but rather for the fragility 'of everything. At the second bottle of wine in reality 'the only good and I'm not interested.
In this situation also comes across with Don Delillo omega point.

I am interested in bringing the time of its existence is not structured. That interests me as this wild beast lives in the jungle, not the zoo. I am interested in how time there before we put up the legs.

I did not I see this book for its essence, and 'the first time I tasted a book for the pleasure of words, the aesthetics of meaning. Pure pleasure to read and be screened in every sentence to the smell of the desert, angular, not 'explained the feeling.
How is not explained the sense of familiarity that a Roman spring night can bring to my senses disturbed.

Real life can not be reduced to words spoken or written, nobody can do it, ever. Real life is happening when we are alone, when we think, perceive, lost in memories, dreamy yet present to ourselves, the submicroscopic moments,

Trust in me

Trust in me, just in me
Shut your eyes and trust in me
You can sleep safe and sound
Knowing I am around

Slip into silent slumber
Sail on a silver mist
Slowly and Surely your senses
Will cease to resist

Trust in me, just in me
Shut your eyes and trust in me

On Air Quoyle: Trust in Me (from The Jungle Book 1967)

Luiza

Rua
Espada nua
Bia no cu imensa and Amarela
To redonda in lua
Como flutua
Vem navigating the firmament, or do azul
And no silencio, slow
Um trovador cheio de estrelas
Escuta agora que eu to cano FIZ
Pra esquecer you, Luiza
Eu sou um pobre apenas amador apaixonado
Um Aprendiz do teu amor
Acorda amor
Que que eu six embaixo awakens Snow blackberry
Um corao

Vem c Luiza
Me of your mo
O meu and teu desejo always desejo
Vem, I exorciza
D me your boca
It rose LOUCA
Vem give me um beijo
And um RAIO of plot nos TEUs cabelos
Brilhante que como um, partindo a luz,
Explode em thirsty cores
Ent known unto thirst os amores mil
que eu guardei somente give you practical
Luiza

Tom Jobim

On Air Quoyle: Luiza Tom Jobim

Ausencia

Ausencia, Ausencia
It asa um tivesse
Voa pa na they distancia
It was um um Gazela
Pa always runs nem um cansera

Anton ja na bo seio
Um ba tava heats
And nunca mas Ausencia
Ta ser nos lema

On Air Quoyle: Ausencia

Message in a Bottle

Just a castaway
An island lost at sea
Another lonely day
With no one here but me
More loneliness
Than any man Could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair

I'll send an SOS to the world
I'll send an SOS to the world
I Hope that someone gets my
Message in a Bottle

A year has passed since I wrote my notes
But I Should have known this right from the start
Only hope can keep me together
Love can mend your life
But love can break your heart

I'll send an SOS to the world
I'll send an SOS to the world
I Hope that someone gets my
Message in a Bottle

Walked out this morning
Do not believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles
Washed up on the shore
Seems I'm not alone at being alone
A hundred billion casatways
Looking for a home

I'll send an SOS to the world
I'll send an SOS to the world
I Hope that someone gets my
Message in a Bottle

Sending out an SOS

On Air Quoyle: Message in a Bottle

35

Today you'd be 35 years, it seems incredible how much time and 'past and how little time and' past inside me. I did not sleep last night, it's six o'clock and resumed the routine, the unbearable now, patience will be anesthetized more than usual. Intertwine thoughts, anxieties, pains and uncertainties in these nights, this night.

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