Typical morning...
Wake up about 10 a.m.
Shower up, brush up,
Throw on some clothes and
Get ready for the day
Time goes by quickly
And before I can notice
It's nearly 3
And the dog is aching for a walk
Grab the leash
Lock the door
And off I go
Typical stroll through the minimal green area
Planted in the heart of a grey metropoly
The dog goes about her business
And I stand and watch
Wind picks up
Clouds form about
I hurry back inside before the rain tumbles down
Elevator doors open up
And there he stands....
Not a rich woman with pounds of gold hanging from her neck
Not a working man with a tie and suitcase
But a man
A simple man
With a wooden cane, hand-made
An old leather hat, covering his balding head
A badly shaved beard, growing thick under his chest
Thick glasses, magnifying his dark, pale eyes
And he carried a bag filled with flowers
Which he said he planted in his backyeard
And every year he would visit his daughter
Hand them over and enjoy a day with her
The talk we had was brief
Since eleven floors go by quickly
But all he had to say
Was said much too well
And as the doors open, and he slowly made his way through
He looked back at me and said
"How beautiful would it be
If we lived by poetry..."
He was no messiah
Nor was he a king
He was a man...
A simple man...
quarta-feira, 25 de dezembro de 2013
quarta-feira, 18 de dezembro de 2013
Dont Worry
Dont worry
One day you'll be able to
Do all those things youve wanted
Watch all those sunsets
All those sunrises
Soon youll have the time
To get back in touch
To learn how to love
To live and live fully
But for now
Focus
Move
Learn
Correct yourself
Because now is the time
For you to become
But dont heat your head
Because you will have time
In the future
Dont worry...
sábado, 14 de dezembro de 2013
Why
Why is it that
When you truly want something
There will always be negative forces
Pressing down upon you?
Or why is it that
When you truly need something
Someone
Who does not know what you experience
Rids you of your feelings
And beats you down?
Why is it that I cant dream?
Even if I dream
The most insane of dreams?
Why is it that I cant be happy
Somewhere else?
Does that rip apart your own life?
Does that shame your pride?
Why is that when I need support
My expressions change your image of me?
Have you never been through hardships?
Have you never dreamed?
So tell me
Why is that
When I need you
When I want you
You turn your back
Only to turn around again
To scold me for having dreams?
Why?
When you truly want something
There will always be negative forces
Pressing down upon you?
Or why is it that
When you truly need something
Someone
Who does not know what you experience
Rids you of your feelings
And beats you down?
Why is it that I cant dream?
Even if I dream
The most insane of dreams?
Why is it that I cant be happy
Somewhere else?
Does that rip apart your own life?
Does that shame your pride?
Why is that when I need support
My expressions change your image of me?
Have you never been through hardships?
Have you never dreamed?
So tell me
Why is that
When I need you
When I want you
You turn your back
Only to turn around again
To scold me for having dreams?
Why?
You Can Try...
Let's get something straight...
When you work towards a goal
When you sweat towards a meaning
If you spend nights upon nights sacrificing
Every minute
Directed towards one single wish
If you wake up and live under the hopes of one dream
Allow your happiness to be reserved for a set day
Regard your worries towards not making it true
Not even your own mind
Not even your own mentors
Not even your own family
Not even your own God
Will take that away from you.
Because they dont know your cravings
They dont feel your pain
Because in their world, happiness is a must
It is a necessity
Yet in your world
You fill in that gap with the hopes of
Being where you want to be
Or being who you want to be
And yes
They'll laugh at you
They'll deny you
They'll try and crush you
You and your dream
They'll misunderstand you
They'll force you into giving it up
They'll leave you
They'll forsake you
They'll disable their support
But keep that head high
Keep those eyes clean
Keep that soul light
Because you'll make it anywhere
As long as you let go of your fear
Of the dark...
When you work towards a goal
When you sweat towards a meaning
If you spend nights upon nights sacrificing
Every minute
Directed towards one single wish
If you wake up and live under the hopes of one dream
Allow your happiness to be reserved for a set day
Regard your worries towards not making it true
Not even your own mind
Not even your own mentors
Not even your own family
Not even your own God
Will take that away from you.
Because they dont know your cravings
They dont feel your pain
Because in their world, happiness is a must
It is a necessity
Yet in your world
You fill in that gap with the hopes of
Being where you want to be
Or being who you want to be
And yes
They'll laugh at you
They'll deny you
They'll try and crush you
You and your dream
They'll misunderstand you
They'll force you into giving it up
They'll leave you
They'll forsake you
They'll disable their support
But keep that head high
Keep those eyes clean
Keep that soul light
Because you'll make it anywhere
As long as you let go of your fear
Of the dark...
Just In Case
He turns the lights off
And on
And off
And on
And off again
Before he leaves the house
Locking the door once
Twice
Three times
Four
Before he turns to leave
Skipping all the cracks on the sidewalk
Looking at the house back again
Making sure everythings in order
Clutches his car handle
Opens it once
Twice
Three times
Four
And makes his way in
And drives away
He drives nowhere, however
He has no appointment
He has no road to follow
No job to get to
He just drives
And drives
And drives
Cleans his steering wheel at every red light
Locks his door at every Stop sign
He keeps on driving
Because he hopes he'll find her
When he comes home
Yet he knows he wont
But he tries nonetheless
And now an hour has passed
Two
Three
Four
And he drives back home
No surprises
No suspicions
He gets in
And he breathes heavily
As he stares at the door
He confronts himself
His hands start to shake
His eyes widen
His heartbeat
Races
Like never before
This night
He leaves his door unlocked
He leaves his light on
Just in case
Just in case...
And on
And off
And on
And off again
Before he leaves the house
Locking the door once
Twice
Three times
Four
Before he turns to leave
Skipping all the cracks on the sidewalk
Looking at the house back again
Making sure everythings in order
Clutches his car handle
Opens it once
Twice
Three times
Four
And makes his way in
And drives away
He drives nowhere, however
He has no appointment
He has no road to follow
No job to get to
He just drives
And drives
And drives
Cleans his steering wheel at every red light
Locks his door at every Stop sign
He keeps on driving
Because he hopes he'll find her
When he comes home
Yet he knows he wont
But he tries nonetheless
And now an hour has passed
Two
Three
Four
And he drives back home
No surprises
No suspicions
He gets in
And he breathes heavily
As he stares at the door
He confronts himself
His hands start to shake
His eyes widen
His heartbeat
Races
Like never before
This night
He leaves his door unlocked
He leaves his light on
Just in case
Just in case...
Innocence
Typical day in a rushed city
The black ties are off and gone to work
The traffic builds up
The patience builds down
No change from Sunday to Monday
And no change from December to January
In the midst of the races
The fast paces
The blank faces
Lies a boy in rags
Unnoticed
Uncared for
Unforgiven
The cars that swift by
Pay no mind
Pay no respect
To his existence
They simply rush on
But what calls attention
Not to the city but the innocence
Is how he feeds the men that also lie
On the streets
As the boy did
And even though the numbers increase
Day by day
By day by day
He persists
Thinking one day
He'll feed them all
And thats where it becomes clear
That it does not matter how many you save
Just that youre trying to save them....
The black ties are off and gone to work
The traffic builds up
The patience builds down
No change from Sunday to Monday
And no change from December to January
In the midst of the races
The fast paces
The blank faces
Lies a boy in rags
Unnoticed
Uncared for
Unforgiven
The cars that swift by
Pay no mind
Pay no respect
To his existence
They simply rush on
But what calls attention
Not to the city but the innocence
Is how he feeds the men that also lie
On the streets
As the boy did
And even though the numbers increase
Day by day
By day by day
He persists
Thinking one day
He'll feed them all
And thats where it becomes clear
That it does not matter how many you save
Just that youre trying to save them....
terça-feira, 10 de dezembro de 2013
Mind The Gap
Let it slide unnoticed
Make pretend
Make believe
Make it seize
To exist
Let it become invisible
Make it unwanted
Make it undesirable
Make it capable
To persist
Let it not dictate your days
Make it disapear
Make it die
Make it try
To insist
Let time
Be the gap between
You
And the better you
But dont let this illusion
Blind your dreams
Think of the time left
The time you have
The time you've had
From your death bed
From your mother's lap
So mind the gap
I say
Mind the gap
segunda-feira, 9 de dezembro de 2013
Change
You never want people to change...
Yet as years go by
Maybe a few days
You're left only to wonder
Whatever happened to that person
You can dream of their oldself
Of the times you shared
Of those laughs you had
Yet those dreams will belong
To that fictional world
You so wish was concrete
But the trick
The magic of it all
Is that change is here to stay
And when you think everyone else around you
Has changed
Look upon yourself
Because so have you ...
Yet as years go by
Maybe a few days
You're left only to wonder
Whatever happened to that person
You can dream of their oldself
Of the times you shared
Of those laughs you had
Yet those dreams will belong
To that fictional world
You so wish was concrete
But the trick
The magic of it all
Is that change is here to stay
And when you think everyone else around you
Has changed
Look upon yourself
Because so have you ...
sexta-feira, 6 de dezembro de 2013
Irony
A man walks home
Head down
Counting his footsteps
Listening to the sound
As they slap the walls
His shoulders are heavy
And his breaths are short
Yet he paces on
The rigid gloves restrict movement
But soothes the pain
Carrying in one hand
The milk
The butter
His wife asked for
And in the other
The doll for his little girl
The toy cars for his little man
He still wears the helmet
For there are too many things at hand
For him to rid his head of the weight
The rifle strapped to his back
The one he shot all day
Hoping to miss
Yet never so sure
Swings front to back
And here we see how man
Works for the better of his family
Of how he sells his soul
For the comfort and longlasting years of theirs
How he is paid to kill
To pay lifes debts...
terça-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2013
Silence
Silence
And the tick of that clock
That hangs on my wall
Withstanding the test of
Time
Silence
And the murmers of the talks
That paints the hall
As the hurried people stand in
Line
Silence
And the clic-clac of her walk
That assaults the leaves that fall
On the dirty, unforgiving ground she
Finds
Silence
That has hightened the sound
That has planted life
Then broken it down...
I Was A Rock
I was a rock
In the middle of a river
And nothing moved me
Not a hitch
Not a shiver
I was a rock
In the middle of a storm
And nothing moved me
Not an inch
In any form
I was a rock
In the middle of a wirlwind
And nothing moved me
Not one bit
And I grinned
I was a rock
Until you came
And you moved me
Ripped my root
My mind the same
I was a rock...
I was a rock...
segunda-feira, 2 de dezembro de 2013
Where did I go wrong...
Dont let yourself think
"Where did I go wrong?"
Because that thought
Eats away at your happiness
And it sucks away your time
Instead
Let it be as it is
Because whatever happened
Happened for a reason
For the better
For the worse
And know that the fault
Is not yours
And if it is
Dont let it consume you
Because sometimes even a misplaced ask for forgiviness
Is necessary
And appreciated
Let It Die
Sometimes
The best way
To preserve something
Is to let it die...
The same goes
For maintaining that relationship
Or at least the good memory of it
Because
You see...
Sometimes things dont
Go the way you want them to
And they naturally surprise you
And die off...
You can try to resuscitate it
Waste your breath
Sweat and bleed for its life
But to no avail
Because as much as something
Might seem like it is forever
It lasts an eternity
Until it is laid to rest
Sometimes
You have to let go
And let it die
The best way
To preserve something
Is to let it die...
The same goes
For maintaining that relationship
Or at least the good memory of it
Because
You see...
Sometimes things dont
Go the way you want them to
And they naturally surprise you
And die off...
You can try to resuscitate it
Waste your breath
Sweat and bleed for its life
But to no avail
Because as much as something
Might seem like it is forever
It lasts an eternity
Until it is laid to rest
Sometimes
You have to let go
And let it die
sábado, 30 de novembro de 2013
What Goes Up
What happened?
Who knows...
Who will ever know, actually
It's like you start off
Winning
And you cant go anywhere
But up
Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard
So you dont know what to expect per say
But you have this discomforting feeling
That whatever will happen
Is inevitable
Yet you try to keep it from happening
Nonetheless...
And thats when you lose it all
And hit the floor
Without a warning
Because you once believed
That you had nowhere to go
But up
Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard...
Who knows...
Who will ever know, actually
It's like you start off
Winning
And you cant go anywhere
But up
Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard
So you dont know what to expect per say
But you have this discomforting feeling
That whatever will happen
Is inevitable
Yet you try to keep it from happening
Nonetheless...
And thats when you lose it all
And hit the floor
Without a warning
Because you once believed
That you had nowhere to go
But up
Yet what goes up
Comes down
And down hard...
quinta-feira, 28 de novembro de 2013
The Works Of A Curse
I'm not sure why
Things work the way they do
With no warning
So sudden
Mercilessly
It is almost as if
The universe taunts us
Exclaiming our weakness
Of being nailed to the present
With only a slight, unsure glimpse
Of what may come to be
And our past?
It doesnt necessarily predict our future
And our future
Is not a reflection of the present
They are intertwined
Yet so distant
And the works of such curse
Revealed itself to me this week
And I ponder the reason why
It had to choose me
Then I realize
That I chose it
Things work the way they do
With no warning
So sudden
Mercilessly
It is almost as if
The universe taunts us
Exclaiming our weakness
Of being nailed to the present
With only a slight, unsure glimpse
Of what may come to be
And our past?
It doesnt necessarily predict our future
And our future
Is not a reflection of the present
They are intertwined
Yet so distant
And the works of such curse
Revealed itself to me this week
And I ponder the reason why
It had to choose me
Then I realize
That I chose it
terça-feira, 26 de novembro de 2013
Fear...
We all have the fear of not being good enough
And that goes for all concepts
Not being good enough of a student
Or a son
Or maybe an artist
Or an engineer...
And yes, I've allowed those troubling thoughts
To storm my head
And they take control of every hour
Every minute of my every day
And week in week out
Month in month out
They linger about
Me?
I have the fear of being a "good for nothing" man
In the future that is...
Because for what I want to be
There is no "halfway good"
Or
"Good enough"
Because when money doesnt speak for you
Only your connection has a voice
And that connection is an evasive one
It runs from me at times...
And I'm left with nothing
But the nightmares
And the nerve-wrecking thoughts
I have the fear of failing
Failing my parents
Failing myself
Because I failed to comply with reality
And her with me...
Because I could work my way up
And become a company man
And sit behind a desk to earn a pay that'll send my kids to college
And be able to buy my wife the dress she had always wanted
Even take the family for a vacation
But I dont
Because I've failed that, too...
Because my mind
Is programed
Is built
Is crafted to follow sound
To follow sight
To ring true
And that is a poison
Which doesnt kill you...
No...
It tortures you
And when you beg to leave
It grants you no mercy....
I fear of being alone
Which at times,
I believe I am
Because the world has no brakes, you see...
It wont stop for you for your sightseeing
It wont call for you once time calls
I fear of being afraid
Of being me
And I'm afraid that fear will keep me
From being me...
And that goes for all concepts
Not being good enough of a student
Or a son
Or maybe an artist
Or an engineer...
And yes, I've allowed those troubling thoughts
To storm my head
And they take control of every hour
Every minute of my every day
And week in week out
Month in month out
They linger about
Me?
I have the fear of being a "good for nothing" man
In the future that is...
Because for what I want to be
There is no "halfway good"
Or
"Good enough"
Because when money doesnt speak for you
Only your connection has a voice
And that connection is an evasive one
It runs from me at times...
And I'm left with nothing
But the nightmares
And the nerve-wrecking thoughts
I have the fear of failing
Failing my parents
Failing myself
Because I failed to comply with reality
And her with me...
Because I could work my way up
And become a company man
And sit behind a desk to earn a pay that'll send my kids to college
And be able to buy my wife the dress she had always wanted
Even take the family for a vacation
But I dont
Because I've failed that, too...
Because my mind
Is programed
Is built
Is crafted to follow sound
To follow sight
To ring true
And that is a poison
Which doesnt kill you...
No...
It tortures you
And when you beg to leave
It grants you no mercy....
I fear of being alone
Which at times,
I believe I am
Because the world has no brakes, you see...
It wont stop for you for your sightseeing
It wont call for you once time calls
I fear of being afraid
Of being me
And I'm afraid that fear will keep me
From being me...
segunda-feira, 25 de novembro de 2013
Sometimes Giving Up Is A Victory...
At least once
You have to ask yourself some questions
And you know you dont want the answers
But it is for the best of you
Yet for the worst of your sanity
I want to be someone
To be great at something and to be recognized for it
I want to be a leader
With strong morals and qualities
Yet what risks will I have to take?
I guess that at certain times
I stop myself in my tracks
And I look at one of her pictures
At that moment, I worry
What if chasing my dream yanks and smights her own?
What if deciding to not act my age ends up taking her away?
So Ive decided that whoever that big person I want to be
Will be for her
Because when youre in love
The audience seizes to exist
And its just you and her
The way the show ends
Is entirely up to you...
A Rather Silly Thought
Reality aside
Its hard to conceive rather Im playing myself for a fool
Or if I am right on all accounts
Because Iet my mind loose during the night
And it scouts the same area
The same lingering thought
That one that deprives me of my sleep
And makes my breaths longer
Am I doing the right thing?
Are the sacrifices worth their punishment?
Or am I chasing shadows
Riddled by the false illusion of choice
That someday
Somehow
If she's gone mad enough
She'll spot within me the joy she searches for
But by then
Theres nothing left to do
But to worry...
Harsh Reality
I remember the time
She stormed into my life
And I thought it would be over soon
We both know it wasnt
I remember how we talked
For hours on end
And I thought we'd break off soon
We both know we didnt
I remember telling her Id wait
And Id be the first thing
She could count on
We both knew I was
So what happened
What broke the ties
Set fire to our moments?
We both know it was me
Wasnt it...
domingo, 24 de novembro de 2013
May I Have Your Attention
Listen closely
Fade out any static
Any rumble
And filter into the sound
Yes, the one that mindfully and discretely
Whispers your name
Give it some thought
Or
Are you out of thoughts to give?
How about dreaming of it?
Or
Has fiction lost its finesse?
Maybe
Try to wish for it?
Or have you had your third?
Dont play yourself under the hands of the joker
Dont let him use you as a pawn
Or
Place you within a threshold of your thoughts
Compressing them
Ridding them if their vibrant meanings
Because true rebellion
Is done with a straightface
And no tricks up your sleeve...
Death
He walks
And walks...
Through the deepest woods
The same he used to wander in
When he was a child with no fear in his mind
No worry in his life
And nothing has changed
The trees...
They rustle to the same song
The wind...
It humms its melodies
The river...
It speaks with the same tone
Yet he catches a glimpse of a beautiful woman
And light curves in her nature
And her smile lights up the deepest darkest woods
She stares art him
And lets out a faint giggle, and runs away
He starts running after her
Love drunk
He must check her reality
As if he doubted what he saw
So he runs
He spots her figure entering the city
And he runs after her
The light shining from her beauty
The scent of her hair greeting his senses
He runs...
She lures him to the dark corridors of the city
Infested with sinners and hunters
Yet her smile is seen
Her eyes pose the mystery
He runs....
Yet when he reaches her
And speaks so that she will turn
Her face is dismantled
Her light is no more
Her smile is rotten
And in his deterioating hope
To find her beauty
He is struck by death
And falls cold to the floor
With nothing but the absence of life
Greeting
Kissing his face goodbye
And then he knew
What is death
But the disloyal beauty that lures you
Then takes you?
sexta-feira, 22 de novembro de 2013
Slip
We all slip...
One way or another
We lose our balance
Be it a loss to a small
Benign principle
Or a major disconnection
I slip right down the hallways
Every week it seems...
But the truth is that the more times I slip
The firmer my feet stick to the ground
And yet it doesnt prevent my next fall
But it makes less harsh
I slip in school
Grades...
I slip with my parents
My friends
I slip with my slipping
And it slips back on me
But the truth I dont ever want to face is that
I'm not slipping...
I'm slipped...
quinta-feira, 21 de novembro de 2013
The Life Of He Who Worked
His hands are stained
From the work
From building the house
Wood by wood
Nail by nail
His face is a map
Of all the routes and streets
He roamed to give her the best
And only the best
Because she deserved no less
His eyes are blinded
And the deep blue is now nothing
But a pale marble
Yet her beauty still
Reflects on it
His tongue is dull
From all the times he had sharpened it
To speak to her and surprise her
With the words he knew
And the rhymes he made
His soul
His tiresome and lonesome soul
Yearns for her love
Because it knows
However wishes not to know
That her departure weakened him
It tore his existence
His life is meaningless
Because she was the only one
To ever bring it a purpose
But with her leaving the door
Out with her went his meaning
But he lives
And long live
His life
The life of a man
Who has worked
And worked
And worked...
From the work
From building the house
Wood by wood
Nail by nail
His face is a map
Of all the routes and streets
He roamed to give her the best
And only the best
Because she deserved no less
His eyes are blinded
And the deep blue is now nothing
But a pale marble
Yet her beauty still
Reflects on it
His tongue is dull
From all the times he had sharpened it
To speak to her and surprise her
With the words he knew
And the rhymes he made
His soul
His tiresome and lonesome soul
Yearns for her love
Because it knows
However wishes not to know
That her departure weakened him
It tore his existence
His life is meaningless
Because she was the only one
To ever bring it a purpose
But with her leaving the door
Out with her went his meaning
But he lives
And long live
His life
The life of a man
Who has worked
And worked
And worked...
quarta-feira, 20 de novembro de 2013
Life
Sometimes,
I open my eyes to a different reality
And I notice that I'm so far behind on the expectations
From my family and friends
That I start to feel the immense pressure that tries to rid me of my dreams...
Every once in a while, my parents and I talk about the future
My future
And how I'm suppose to handle my life
And my financial state
And so forth...
So I reassure them
I endulge them by telling them how I'm going to college
To major in something professional and academic
Get myself a job and wife and work my way to my grave
But I fool myself into that reality
Because the world I live in
I'm on a stage
And I'm playing my songs and people are actually enjoying it
Theres a connection
But I come home to an empty home
Theres no wife
There are no kids
No messages on my phone
Its a solitary eutopia
Because I've let people cram that into my head
That musicians are good for nothing
That they die young and wifeless
That they bite the bait too quickly
And yeah...
It might be true
But passion is a greater kingdom than reality will ever be...
And I intend on keeping it that way
Even if I wont ever have a love that sleeps beside me
Or be able to take the kids to their soccer game on weekends
But hey
Life is an unexpected guest
You just never know what it might do to you
I open my eyes to a different reality
And I notice that I'm so far behind on the expectations
From my family and friends
That I start to feel the immense pressure that tries to rid me of my dreams...
Every once in a while, my parents and I talk about the future
My future
And how I'm suppose to handle my life
And my financial state
And so forth...
So I reassure them
I endulge them by telling them how I'm going to college
To major in something professional and academic
Get myself a job and wife and work my way to my grave
But I fool myself into that reality
Because the world I live in
I'm on a stage
And I'm playing my songs and people are actually enjoying it
Theres a connection
But I come home to an empty home
Theres no wife
There are no kids
No messages on my phone
Its a solitary eutopia
Because I've let people cram that into my head
That musicians are good for nothing
That they die young and wifeless
That they bite the bait too quickly
And yeah...
It might be true
But passion is a greater kingdom than reality will ever be...
And I intend on keeping it that way
Even if I wont ever have a love that sleeps beside me
Or be able to take the kids to their soccer game on weekends
But hey
Life is an unexpected guest
You just never know what it might do to you
segunda-feira, 18 de novembro de 2013
These Dreams
I have so many dreams
That sometimes I dont know which one will be realized
So I sit here and wait until one of them
Peaks up
Waves
Signals life
So I can work towards it
But I dont believe I'd be happy with only one dream working
While the rest wither and die off
Because the plan of my life
Is for all these dreams to materialize
But it scratches at my soul to be here
Anxiously awaiting their covertion
And to no avail...
That sometimes I dont know which one will be realized
So I sit here and wait until one of them
Peaks up
Waves
Signals life
So I can work towards it
But I dont believe I'd be happy with only one dream working
While the rest wither and die off
Because the plan of my life
Is for all these dreams to materialize
But it scratches at my soul to be here
Anxiously awaiting their covertion
And to no avail...
sábado, 16 de novembro de 2013
I Wish
I wish there was a way to manipulate the outcome
To set right the wrong parts
And to tinker with the results
To make them to your liking
I wish there was a way to predict the future
But not in some black magic ritual
To know in advance that what you're about to say
Wont do you any good
And she'll just distance herself
Further
And further
And further...
I wish there was more to me than she would see
That I wouldnt be a blank page or
A book with a lousy plot
I wish that she wished the same as me
Because then how simple it would be
No more worry
No more nerve-wrecking worry
No more assumptions
No more doubts
No more "no more"
I wish that I would stop wishing so much
And get down to the doing...
What Happens?
What happens when you run out of things to write
When it consumed you in full
Spit out reason and logic
And kept in foolishness
And you stare at the blank page
With nothing but a blank, solitary breeze that goes through your mind
What happens when doubt reveals itself?
Do you get up and sober up
From being so love drunk?
Or do you put on a brave face
And work against the odds?
What becomes of you when you've lost your senses?
How sleep is such a stranger
How strangers no longer become strange...
Because you know the blame lies within you
And only you
But you choose to forgive youself
And remind yourself its worth the risk
What happens if it isnt?
What happens then? ...
The Journey
I dont comprehend love...
It is such an evasive and complicated concept
That it brings you the best of dreams
Yet when you wake
Where have those dreams gone to?
I wish there was a way to tell
If what I work for is worth the risks
The time and the effort
The let downs and the concerns
But I guess the best part of this
Is that you cant
You're placed in the deep dark woods
No flashlight
No compass
No wind to guide you
No river to lend you perspective
Yet something tells you where to go
How to feel
What to listen for
And somehow
Sometime
You find the way out
And you're safe and sound
But that journey was frightening
And it stripped you of your sanity
Your sleep
But in the end it was worth it
Because you've never seen such beauty
In a sunrise
Or such splendor in that song
That the wind hums to you
And I guess that is love
Not the lack of knowledge before
Or the beauty after
But the entire journey...
It is such an evasive and complicated concept
That it brings you the best of dreams
Yet when you wake
Where have those dreams gone to?
I wish there was a way to tell
If what I work for is worth the risks
The time and the effort
The let downs and the concerns
But I guess the best part of this
Is that you cant
You're placed in the deep dark woods
No flashlight
No compass
No wind to guide you
No river to lend you perspective
Yet something tells you where to go
How to feel
What to listen for
And somehow
Sometime
You find the way out
And you're safe and sound
But that journey was frightening
And it stripped you of your sanity
Your sleep
But in the end it was worth it
Because you've never seen such beauty
In a sunrise
Or such splendor in that song
That the wind hums to you
And I guess that is love
Not the lack of knowledge before
Or the beauty after
But the entire journey...
sexta-feira, 15 de novembro de 2013
Time
Have you noticed the sparkle
In her eyes?
The tone of her voice
Or her name in the skies?
Do you come back home
And await her embrace?
The stories she'll tell
Or that smudge on her face?
Did you give her
All you could?
Forget the money, the time
As you promised you would?
Well, I'm sorry to say
That time has run out
And she's moved to land
While you're lurking about
But be brave and confident
So that your love can dwell
Only then will you see those eyes
Taste her taste, smell her smell
Have you chosen to cherish
Her every laugh?
Give up that dream
Or maybe at least half?
If you've done so
Its a safe bet to say
That her love for you
Comes in an honest way
Make sure you wake up some day
Look into her eyes
Fall in love with that voice
And write her name on the skies
Because time takes and takes
And you know
You cant hide
In her eyes?
The tone of her voice
Or her name in the skies?
Do you come back home
And await her embrace?
The stories she'll tell
Or that smudge on her face?
Did you give her
All you could?
Forget the money, the time
As you promised you would?
Well, I'm sorry to say
That time has run out
And she's moved to land
While you're lurking about
But be brave and confident
So that your love can dwell
Only then will you see those eyes
Taste her taste, smell her smell
Have you chosen to cherish
Her every laugh?
Give up that dream
Or maybe at least half?
If you've done so
Its a safe bet to say
That her love for you
Comes in an honest way
Make sure you wake up some day
Look into her eyes
Fall in love with that voice
And write her name on the skies
Because time takes and takes
And you know
You cant hide
You Do The Same...
It calls to you
By your name
Gently holds on to your shoulder
And you do the same
You two walk around
Be it in the rain or snow
And the truth is that time goes by
But you dont want to show
That those wrinkles are acting up
As slow as it might seem
But surely she'll start to notice
Who she'd want you to be
And you lie to yourself
And promise that you'll change
But what difference does it make
When you're one and the same
And she starts to drift
In the thin skin of space
And you're left in wonder
And fall back on your race
But fear not the mysteries she imposes
Because her very composition is of such
And in due time you'll find out
You wont have to worry as much
Because true love finds you
In the depth of your seeking
And when you least expect
It becomes the air you've been breathing
And now her eyes reflect the love
And the beast you deflect is tamed
She smiles at you
And you do the same...
quinta-feira, 14 de novembro de 2013
The Sailor
The sailor rows his boat
Across the vicious ocean
Up and above the massive waves
That try to engulf his fragile existence
Down and below the pouring rain
That tries to wipe out his signature
Yet the power lies within his mind
As every night he dreams the same dream
That he reaches land
The firm, exotic shore
And he graces its presence by grasping the sand
With his work-stained hands
Letting it fall loosely back to earth
As the wind riddles it and tenderly calms his anxious soul
As if to say "welcome home"
However... a simple pinch knocks him back to reality
And he awakens to find himself back in his small boat
Struggling against the waves
Struggling against the rain
And he falls back into his existence
Wondering if all people dream that same dream
Because it seems to be the only one that he knows
And that comes and visits him
Lures him into an utopian realm
Then when he is inches away from tasting paradise
It tears itself
And throws him back
Way back
To himself
And he carries on
Hoping someday that dream will manifest itself
It will drop down from the heavens
And let die its silly ways and trickery
But 'till that day comes
The sailor rows his boat ...
Across the vicious ocean
Up and above the massive waves
That try to engulf his fragile existence
Down and below the pouring rain
That tries to wipe out his signature
Yet the power lies within his mind
As every night he dreams the same dream
That he reaches land
The firm, exotic shore
And he graces its presence by grasping the sand
With his work-stained hands
Letting it fall loosely back to earth
As the wind riddles it and tenderly calms his anxious soul
As if to say "welcome home"
However... a simple pinch knocks him back to reality
And he awakens to find himself back in his small boat
Struggling against the waves
Struggling against the rain
And he falls back into his existence
Wondering if all people dream that same dream
Because it seems to be the only one that he knows
And that comes and visits him
Lures him into an utopian realm
Then when he is inches away from tasting paradise
It tears itself
And throws him back
Way back
To himself
And he carries on
Hoping someday that dream will manifest itself
It will drop down from the heavens
And let die its silly ways and trickery
But 'till that day comes
The sailor rows his boat ...
terça-feira, 12 de novembro de 2013
It Brings You Comfort...
It brings you some comfort
In the long run..
Yet, someday you wake up
You lift that heavy soul off your bed
And you prop yourself under the pressure
Realizing...
That the little comfort it awards you
Is derived of all that tension
All those expectations you force yourself to meet
She has high standards
And even higher dreams
And I lack the strength
The wisdom
My tongue is dull
As opposed to all those who have sharpened theirs
She speaks
And the words that loosely bid her farewell
Wear the alluring veil of wisdom
And experience
In no moment in my time
Will I match her expectations
Her needs
Her desires
Because I am naturally built as the leg of a chair
Or the nail on the wall which holds the masterpiece
And my sole purpose conflicts with my wish
Of someday having her
But not her body
Not her eyes
Not only those
But have her love
And passion
Yet the pressure I feel
The tension that rips open the stress
Disables my growth
And my will
And throws back into the deafining realm of uncertainty
Where you may think you know you have a chance
But seconds later you contradict yourself...
But you know one thing
And one thing only
And that is
It brings you comfort
In the long run...
In the long run..
Yet, someday you wake up
You lift that heavy soul off your bed
And you prop yourself under the pressure
Realizing...
That the little comfort it awards you
Is derived of all that tension
All those expectations you force yourself to meet
She has high standards
And even higher dreams
And I lack the strength
The wisdom
My tongue is dull
As opposed to all those who have sharpened theirs
She speaks
And the words that loosely bid her farewell
Wear the alluring veil of wisdom
And experience
In no moment in my time
Will I match her expectations
Her needs
Her desires
Because I am naturally built as the leg of a chair
Or the nail on the wall which holds the masterpiece
And my sole purpose conflicts with my wish
Of someday having her
But not her body
Not her eyes
Not only those
But have her love
And passion
Yet the pressure I feel
The tension that rips open the stress
Disables my growth
And my will
And throws back into the deafining realm of uncertainty
Where you may think you know you have a chance
But seconds later you contradict yourself...
But you know one thing
And one thing only
And that is
It brings you comfort
In the long run...
Equilibrium
Light
For seconds
It clears my view
It outlines the details
It purifies the reasons
Identifies the essence
Slowly yet surely spreads
Throughout the room
And later the corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
To vanquish the remnants of
The bad memories
The hurt
It scars it
Yet heals them completely
But where there is light
Darkness lurks not too far behind
And it tricks me into thinking
I need it
I wish it
How I lust for it
And it takes me by the hand
And steadily eases me away from light
And into the darkness
It caves in
Removes all that splendor
From the rooms
The corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
And restores the vanquished memories
And hurt
Rips open those scars
Yet...
Where there is darkness
Light lurks not too far behind...
For seconds
It clears my view
It outlines the details
It purifies the reasons
Identifies the essence
Slowly yet surely spreads
Throughout the room
And later the corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
To vanquish the remnants of
The bad memories
The hurt
It scars it
Yet heals them completely
But where there is light
Darkness lurks not too far behind
And it tricks me into thinking
I need it
I wish it
How I lust for it
And it takes me by the hand
And steadily eases me away from light
And into the darkness
It caves in
Removes all that splendor
From the rooms
The corridor
That leads to my mind
And soul
And restores the vanquished memories
And hurt
Rips open those scars
Yet...
Where there is darkness
Light lurks not too far behind...
segunda-feira, 11 de novembro de 2013
Not again...
This is something else...
Out of all the times I had fallen into it
And no matter how deeply and whoever by
None can compare to this
And my reaction towards it is... not immediate
I told myself that distance is a destroyer of relationships
And in essence, it really is
Because in due time, the love drifts away
The interest because vague and dismantled
And it's only a matter of patience
Until one of the lovers decides that life is better off
Without them in it
However, I guess you come upon a time where
Distance is irrelevant
And time is just a factor
And you find yourself in this tightly enclosed room
That is bursting
And the pressure is so great that you can't contain it
That distance and time wont fit into that space
Damn it
I think I'm in love...
domingo, 10 de novembro de 2013
Its Happening Again
It's happening again.
I'm laying in bed waiting for her
And its late at night
Early in the morning
Past midday
I'm here
Waiting
And I dont mind
Because honestly what part of this wait is there to mind?
I'm waiting on a good cause
A few minutes with her
or
A few seconds
Doesnt matter
It never does
I've figured out that somethings in life go by with certainty
But you're in charge of how fast they slip
You're the master of your own moments
And so I choose to make those seconds
Last an eternity
So it brings me eternal happiness whilst it lasts
And that comforts me
And the laughs we share
And the glances we let slide
They are all indicators
Proof
Evidence
That the moments I share with you
Are meant to be the way they are
And no tinkering
No editing
Nothing should change them
Because they are perfect
Besides all the imperfections they impose
Its happening again
...
I'm letting it happen again.
sexta-feira, 8 de novembro de 2013
Silence...
Silence...
Not even the tick of the clock
Rips the fragile fabric
Because it is placed under the threshold
Of that collapsing wall of sonic immobility
However it doesnt surround me
And distorts and molds into my ambience
Yet does not infiltrate my nature
Even the chaos of the city is surpressed
And all of a sudden the world is crumbled
Silence...
Not even the tick of the clock
Rips the fragile fabric
Because it is placed under the threshold
Of that collapsing wall of sonic immobility
However it doesnt surround me
And distorts and molds into my ambience
Yet does not infiltrate my nature
Even the chaos of the city is surpressed
And all of a sudden the world is crumbled
Silence...
Things Change
Things change.
As much as we dont want them to...
We are all victims of this process.
You think you will wake up the next morning and feel the same?
Act the same?
Think the same?
Speak the same?
Wish the same?
Be the same?
... Think again
Because change is part of life that when unexistent we are not living.
Love flows and goes as it came
Pride rules until it is tamed
It hurts to say it
But things just
Change
Heart Break?
Broken hearts...
I hate that expression
But not because it's too cliché or because it just naturally tends to sound cheesy
But because it is an understatement
We've all had love in our lives
Be it true love or a temporary attraction, it has always been there
In that sense, we all know what it is like when that love fades
It vanishes
Dies out
And as it came so unexpectedly through the thin and sharp space between your door
It flies on back out, and the wind swiftly but surely carries it away
And you're left feeling hopeless
You fall back to square one
And theres not much you can do but to take it
Hit after hit
After hit
After hit
And honestly, my heart breaks made me better
Yes they did do more than just break a heart
They confused me
They rotted my senses
They cursed my nights with insomnia
They rules the empire of my dreams
They sucked away the colors
They dimmed the light
But where would I be?
Where would we be if love was so perfect?
Because the concept of love evades us
From our condition
From our way of life
Because we dwell infinitely in the images of true love cast upon us by the movies, or the books, or the music
Never once have we stopped in our tracks
Looked at ourselves and thought
"True love isnt true until it suffers the truth"
And true love is never true unless you feel that heart break...
... heart break ...
God I still hate that expression...
I hate that expression
But not because it's too cliché or because it just naturally tends to sound cheesy
But because it is an understatement
We've all had love in our lives
Be it true love or a temporary attraction, it has always been there
In that sense, we all know what it is like when that love fades
It vanishes
Dies out
And as it came so unexpectedly through the thin and sharp space between your door
It flies on back out, and the wind swiftly but surely carries it away
And you're left feeling hopeless
You fall back to square one
And theres not much you can do but to take it
Hit after hit
After hit
After hit
And honestly, my heart breaks made me better
Yes they did do more than just break a heart
They confused me
They rotted my senses
They cursed my nights with insomnia
They rules the empire of my dreams
They sucked away the colors
They dimmed the light
But where would I be?
Where would we be if love was so perfect?
Because the concept of love evades us
From our condition
From our way of life
Because we dwell infinitely in the images of true love cast upon us by the movies, or the books, or the music
Never once have we stopped in our tracks
Looked at ourselves and thought
"True love isnt true until it suffers the truth"
And true love is never true unless you feel that heart break...
... heart break ...
God I still hate that expression...
Here I Go Again...
While recording the setlist for the album "We Might As Well..." I noticed that nothing ends a great rock n roll album than a acoustic/voice, one on one, love song.
So I let myself think of her one last time and came out with this:
So I let myself think of her one last time and came out with this:
HERE I GO AGAIN
Here we go again...
Right when I thought I’d reached the end
Your voice lingered in my head
And your scent near my bed
Then your laugh came about
Then that song we’d sing aloud
How I bought you that new dress
And you shined in a room so colorless
Can’t you see, can’t you see
That the world is built on fantasies
And once you were my queen
And once you were my queen
Yet I believe, I believe
That these colors that I see
Will lead me back to you
Yes I believe they do…
There she goes again…
She’s found her light in another man
And I cant help but to lie
When I say she’s done her time
I remember her flowing hair
And the clothes that she use to wear
Is it too much to explain
Why I never switched my lane
Can’t you see, can’t you see
That the world is built on fantasies
And once you were my queen
And once you were my queen
Yet I believe, I believe
That these colors that I see
Will lead me back to you
Yes I believe they do…
quinta-feira, 7 de novembro de 2013
I leave the front door open
I leave my front door open
For her
For her essence
So that she can walk any time she wants
As many times as she wants
Whenever
Forever
However, I leave my front door open
And with that action comes the consequences
And some come in and take away
And some come in and take away more
As many time as they want
Whenever
Forever
But I leave the front door open for her
I'll always leave the front door open
For her
For her
For her essence
So that she can walk any time she wants
As many times as she wants
Whenever
Forever
However, I leave my front door open
And with that action comes the consequences
And some come in and take away
And some come in and take away more
As many time as they want
Whenever
Forever
But I leave the front door open for her
I'll always leave the front door open
For her
terça-feira, 5 de novembro de 2013
1:21am
1:21am
My eyes are starting to give up and shut
But with any strength I have left
I keep them open
Starring at this screen
Waiting
Hoping
Wishing she'd show up
But who am I kidding?
If I remember correctly
It all started with the simplest detail
Her voice
It wasnt the type that would
pierce the silence
or be the first recognizable in the room
But it was unique
In such a way that it captivated my attention
Bit by bit
Until I bit the bait
That's what it took
One second of listening to that voice
Filled with mystery
with splendor
with such light and shade
bundled into one solid note
that sounded cleanly across the halls
But I was no one to believe I even had a chance
She needed a man
With set needs and morals
With predominant characteristics
Me?
I had long hair
Sunglasses
Didnt act my age
Didnt want to anyway
But what I did there
In the very moment I deleted the chances from my head
I wrongfully directed myself
Because now I learned she felt the same for me
Or at least a fraction of it
But who's counting
And I'm riddled with regret
And such feeling is what keeps me up at night
Hoping she'll be there so I can ask her how her day was
How she slept
So she can talk to me about her issues
Her happiness
Her memories
So she can laugh
So I can laugh along with her
But will she show up?
I'll never know
Its 1:27am
I'm still here...
Love
Is there such a thing as "too much" love?
I wonder...
Because I manage to fall in love two or three times a week
Sometimes the same girl
Sometimes different ones
But I guess the real issue is that I fall in love too easily
Why?
Who knows...
Not sure if it is because of past relationships
Or the lack of them
Maybe how I love company
Or because I love being in love
Even if it is hopeless
I guess it gives me strength to do certain things
And do them better than before
Because it throws to me this powerful concept
That if I succeed in my actions
I'll succeed in that love
Doesnt work that way...
I've fallen for girls I dont even know
For girls I wont ever know
For girls that are here now
For girls that never roamed the earth
I guess the secret to it all is
Fall as hard as you can
But make sure the depth is not so substantial
So that you may manage to crawl back up
And out of love
Then fall back
In it
I wonder...
Because I manage to fall in love two or three times a week
Sometimes the same girl
Sometimes different ones
But I guess the real issue is that I fall in love too easily
Why?
Who knows...
Not sure if it is because of past relationships
Or the lack of them
Maybe how I love company
Or because I love being in love
Even if it is hopeless
I guess it gives me strength to do certain things
And do them better than before
Because it throws to me this powerful concept
That if I succeed in my actions
I'll succeed in that love
Doesnt work that way...
I've fallen for girls I dont even know
For girls I wont ever know
For girls that are here now
For girls that never roamed the earth
I guess the secret to it all is
Fall as hard as you can
But make sure the depth is not so substantial
So that you may manage to crawl back up
And out of love
Then fall back
In it
Concept of "We Might As Well..."
I'm in the makes of the album for my band, The Things (yes I know that name is somewhat awkward but bear with us...), named "We Might As Well..." and I just wanted to transpose the meaning behind the name and concept of this album.
Firstly, the concept of the entire band came from the root of "we should just give it a go". That line pretty much summed up our rehearsals, the song making process and the execution of the setlist. In the end, we arent doing this to impress people much, but rather to have something to risk.
So you could say that I built this band on an unstructured, unprocessed, unsure base. But that's what makes us unique. We like to go from a slow song to a full on power rock n roll riff. It's all about taking the risk because in the end we might as well go for it.
Firstly, the concept of the entire band came from the root of "we should just give it a go". That line pretty much summed up our rehearsals, the song making process and the execution of the setlist. In the end, we arent doing this to impress people much, but rather to have something to risk.
So you could say that I built this band on an unstructured, unprocessed, unsure base. But that's what makes us unique. We like to go from a slow song to a full on power rock n roll riff. It's all about taking the risk because in the end we might as well go for it.
I worked on the album cover with a very dear friend of mine, Alexia Lund, and we came up with this background. (Note: this is not the finished product, this just outlines the background). I used the chaotic color and brush strokes on the left to indicate the normality of society. How people are born, they work, they die. The natural cycle of life.
It indicates as well where the subject, in that case you could make me said subject, wants to be but wishes to refrain from that area. You can notice how the lights stray closer and closer to the midpoint of the picture, showing how they expand and try to reach the other side thus ripping off the darkness.
The right side of the album shows faint lights in organized squares. Thats where the austronaut (pretty much the theme of the album) would be. He is just standing there in his own, organized world, fighting the fear within himself of being engulfed by the chaotic world that slowly caves in.
Metaphorically, the album talks about the lack of support, of the "one man army", that many of us experience at least at one point in life. It shows how this band is in the dark, it is working on its own, it is a self-functioning machine. Because we are recording our album in my little studio placed in my room, I write the lyrics, the songs, the melodies, no help from any manager or producer. We teach ourselves the instruments, the stage presence, the dynamics, the show.
And that's what really moves The Things onward, given all the opposing forces.
But we're still here and the album is going well
Expect to hear it no later than this month!
segunda-feira, 4 de novembro de 2013
Despite the let downs...
Building your dream is the hardest task ever bestowed upon me...
And I know its a bit of a cliché to say that, but in the end of the day, it truly is.
Specially when you're nearly on your own.
Parents can tell you they work for the best of you
Friends can tell you they've got your back
But sometimes you're getting ready for the rumble and you look over your shoulder and all of those are gone
There's nothing we can do about it but carry on. And keep trying
Keep messing up
Keep trying again
And keep messing up once more
It's all part of a scheme
I want to work with music.
Such a simple dream in essence, but one of the less probable things in life.
People might think that being a musician means winning X-Factor and blowing up the next day.
That is 100% wrong.
Musicians should struggle. They should suffer. They should have to get up at 8am everyday and work towards making a band work, or rehearse for 5 hours on a Sunday, knowing Monday all hell will break lose.
Musicians should take the mocking, the complaining, the expectations, the let downs, the give ups.
Musicians have to face risk, they have to endure pain and sacrifice. We have to face more troubles in a year than the regular person would face in a lifetime
Musicians are tough.
Besides despite all these critics, all the negativity, all the forces acting against them
They still pick up that guitar
or that microphone
or that bass or drumsticks
or whatever it is
And they march out and play people their song
And they tell the story of their struggle and fights
And they enjoy what they do
They wouldnt change that for the world
That's why I want to play music.
You wont find that honesty anywhere else...
sexta-feira, 1 de novembro de 2013
Art
"What is art if not a mirror of life"
That hit me hard.
And she was right. Life is just an illustration of your emotions, of time, of you, of life. And that concept is what defines whats on the canvas. That thought is what gives music meaning.
But now I'll stand back, and I'll look up and analyze my life and how it mirrors the art I try to make.
And I begin to notice (and this is happening as I write this down) that there's this bundled sense of frustration and lack of time that repeats itself in many of my lyrics, of the melodies I come up with.
Take the song "Spaceman" I wrote a few months ago. The real meaning behind that song is not about some guy that is sitting on the moon watching the earthrise. It is, however, about the moment in which we all feel the helplesness, the lack of support, nature's pressure and weight crushing you down, pushing you to a point of complete desperation. And then you lock yourself out.
You fly into space.
Where theres nothing, yet everything
No sound, yet the most chaotic of symphonies
And that's where I've been for the past few months, in outer space
I'm just drifting there, watching the sun rise above the earth, sitting on the moon, waiting for the situation down there to resolve itself for a safe landing.
Or look at "Time". "Have we come to the point where we all have to run away, pack our things, kill our dreams, (...) make haste"
That song outlines my breaking point. The stress and fear of living where I do was so unconceivable that I could pack my things and leave to anywhere else but here.
It sort of robs you of your freedom, it sucks away the happiness. Because I know that I'm wasting my time worrying over this, but it is time well spent because it generates this energy that pushes me towards working harder to get out of here.
And this time was not wasted
Because surely you recall Lennon saying "time you enjoyed wasting, was not wasted".
How true that is
That the amoutn of time I have
Be it too much or too little
Doesnt mark what I've done so far in life
It just marks what I've yet to do
That hit me hard.
And she was right. Life is just an illustration of your emotions, of time, of you, of life. And that concept is what defines whats on the canvas. That thought is what gives music meaning.
But now I'll stand back, and I'll look up and analyze my life and how it mirrors the art I try to make.
And I begin to notice (and this is happening as I write this down) that there's this bundled sense of frustration and lack of time that repeats itself in many of my lyrics, of the melodies I come up with.
Take the song "Spaceman" I wrote a few months ago. The real meaning behind that song is not about some guy that is sitting on the moon watching the earthrise. It is, however, about the moment in which we all feel the helplesness, the lack of support, nature's pressure and weight crushing you down, pushing you to a point of complete desperation. And then you lock yourself out.
You fly into space.
Where theres nothing, yet everything
No sound, yet the most chaotic of symphonies
And that's where I've been for the past few months, in outer space
I'm just drifting there, watching the sun rise above the earth, sitting on the moon, waiting for the situation down there to resolve itself for a safe landing.
Or look at "Time". "Have we come to the point where we all have to run away, pack our things, kill our dreams, (...) make haste"
That song outlines my breaking point. The stress and fear of living where I do was so unconceivable that I could pack my things and leave to anywhere else but here.
It sort of robs you of your freedom, it sucks away the happiness. Because I know that I'm wasting my time worrying over this, but it is time well spent because it generates this energy that pushes me towards working harder to get out of here.
And this time was not wasted
Because surely you recall Lennon saying "time you enjoyed wasting, was not wasted".
How true that is
That the amoutn of time I have
Be it too much or too little
Doesnt mark what I've done so far in life
It just marks what I've yet to do
The Truth Is...
I have the tendency to create different characters when writing my songs...
Very few of the lyrics I write actually resemble a problem I'm facing, or my own reality. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, because it helps me imagine and be the "god" of my own head; I get to make up this old guy that's been living in the same old house. He's wifeless, everyone else moved away because the land isn't fertile anymore and the city is too far. It is just him and his home that he built with his two hands.
And that is a sort of beauty... at least to me.
It just takes me by the knees how music nowadays is too "overthought" and too "underwriten" at the same time. Switch on the radio, listen to those lyrics. They all paint a clear picture about parties, about boyfriends and breakups, about sex and drugs. There's no depth anymore. There's no expression.
But I wont stand my ground because judging someone else's music is just plain wrong.
*Even you Bieber... but you still suck.*
What I miss the most from the music made decades ago is not the blistering guitar solos or the mindblowing vocal ranges. I miss the simplicity to the music making process. The way you could go into a studio and sing your heart out about this woman that's just grinding up your gears. Or write a song telling the story of a man who's dug too deep and in the end he dug his own grave.
I miss the expression.
I miss the emotion.
I miss the fact that you could moan into a microphone and in some twisted way make that into art.
I miss being able to make mistakes on stage.
Because music isnt perfect.
Humans arent perfect.
It has to sound off a bit because that is the definition of rock n roll
That's how blues came about
By the hands and the hearts and the souls of the ones who werent perfect at the time
From the hearts and souls of the troubled ones
The ones that worked in fields
That were whipped unconscious
That needed a way out and choose music as an exit
How beautiful is that?
How music provided the most ridiculed people on earth a home of serenity and peace.
THAT is what music should be about
But instead sex and money has launched the beloved music industry straight into the arms of greed.
And now honest artists cannot make a living
They cant speak for themselves
They arent respected as artists, but as tokens
As objects
As trophies
But these artists
these musicians
they will have something no one will ever be able to grasp
They'll always have melody
They'll always have music
And music will always comfort them
As it comforts me...
And I'm Just Sitting Here...
The clock ticks away the time. Sun starts to bid
farewell, clouds gather about, grasshoppers ready their song. Blank expression,
starring into the nothingness, the
emptiness, the void. And I’m just sitting here.
And for once, all I hear is silence. It is deafening,
and slowly claims the lives of any sudden movement I try to make; I’m
paralyzed. And I just sit here.
I can’t hear any music in my head. Silence has taken
over that, too. Her image is somewhat distorted; I can see her face but cannot
make out the details all together; I’m either thinking of her voice, or her
eyes, but never both. And I just sit here…
I can’t come to a true conclusion as to why I’m doing
this. Why I’m being overtaken by the silence, the immobility, the nothingness,
the void. Why choices fade out, why bad times rule the kingdom, how the only
way out is the path to another way out. It is a cycle. And I just sit here.
The sun has set, the grasshoppers carol their favorite
song, the clouds watch as the city flickers on their golden lights and waits
for the day to greet them back. I yet to receive the greeting from her, from
each of the aspects that compose her. Her
soul, her smile, her faults. I just sit here.
And that clock still ticks away the time…
quinta-feira, 31 de outubro de 2013
Up Late In Memory Lane
11:50
Not one pitch of sleep
Instead, I'm up reading old messages, e-mails
Reliving the past
or
A trip down memory lane
I dont know why, but whenever I'm feeling sleepless I open up these messages.
And they go a long way back,
months, maybe years,
and I just love to read how the conversations evolved.
How friends became best of friends or
how the friendship just suddenly
evaporated into thin air.
How love was brought up in the tiniest of moments
and how it was shut down in the slightest of words
How hatred resolves itself in the thin space of the text
How I made decisions I'll regret
How I'll regret having these regrets
And so forth..
I read about the things I said about Boston
and how I still use the same words to describe it.
How theres an endless need for me to get back there,
one way
or another...
I read my conversations with ex girlfriends
How did those happen? (...)
I read the stress in hurried statements
about that giant project I had
no idea
was due the next morning.
I read about others
I read about school gossip
I read about myself
And how I've changed
And how I've stayed the same
And how I've been evolving
For the better?
Worse?
Who's judging?
I pay attention to the details
How quickly I'd answer some people
How delayed some were
How I was glued to this one girl
How she was never that into me
How I sent my first lyrics
And anxiously told her that it wasnt the best I've done
How I always seeked acceptance
How my hair was awkward when I was 12
But what I dont read
Or what I havent talked about
Is how I'm still sitting here
Every night
Every week
Every month
Contemplating the reasons why I do this
Why I read what I wrote
What others wrote
What other didnt write
Or maybe why I read what has happened already
Or maybe
What hasnt happened yet
Not one pitch of sleep
Instead, I'm up reading old messages, e-mails
Reliving the past
or
A trip down memory lane
I dont know why, but whenever I'm feeling sleepless I open up these messages.
And they go a long way back,
months, maybe years,
and I just love to read how the conversations evolved.
How friends became best of friends or
how the friendship just suddenly
evaporated into thin air.
How love was brought up in the tiniest of moments
and how it was shut down in the slightest of words
How hatred resolves itself in the thin space of the text
How I made decisions I'll regret
How I'll regret having these regrets
And so forth..
I read about the things I said about Boston
and how I still use the same words to describe it.
How theres an endless need for me to get back there,
one way
or another...
I read my conversations with ex girlfriends
How did those happen? (...)
I read the stress in hurried statements
about that giant project I had
no idea
was due the next morning.
I read about others
I read about school gossip
I read about myself
And how I've changed
And how I've stayed the same
And how I've been evolving
For the better?
Worse?
Who's judging?
I pay attention to the details
How quickly I'd answer some people
How delayed some were
How I was glued to this one girl
How she was never that into me
How I sent my first lyrics
And anxiously told her that it wasnt the best I've done
How I always seeked acceptance
How my hair was awkward when I was 12
But what I dont read
Or what I havent talked about
Is how I'm still sitting here
Every night
Every week
Every month
Contemplating the reasons why I do this
Why I read what I wrote
What others wrote
What other didnt write
Or maybe why I read what has happened already
Or maybe
What hasnt happened yet
Why?
You know
I dont usually let people tell me I cant be a musician
I actually take their doubt as a sort of fuel
It makes me want to do it even more so one day I can turn to them and rub it in their faces
But heres something most people dont see in people like me
In people that want to make it so bad that they alread sacrifice a large portion of their lives just trying to get there somehow... one way or another
There comes a time where you smarten up for one day
Thats all it takes... 24 little hours and your mind goes from set to scrambled
Regular week, school as usual, Friday is coming up and I'm anxious to start recording the first song for the album "We Might As Well..."
The day goes by normally, nothing different happens: I'm still writing my lyrics during break, still working on the recording software during lunch time,
Until the last period swings by, and you start to hear the talks of "I'm going to a great college in Texas, the best in technology" or something along the lines of "I'm pretty sure, with these grades, MIT will be an easy win".
And I'm just sitting there thinking "hell... all these people around know what they want to do and it's all 'real' jobs". And before you know it, I'm hit with a full 50 meter wave of doubt and stress because when I analyze the possible outcomes of my life it all draws down to two very distinct options; I make it, live comfortably doing exactly what I've always wanted to do. Or... I dont make it, and am left scraping by, with little time left to give in to defeat.
Now that's just a scary thought, you have to admit. I dont have a professional career I'm pursuing. I'm not dreaming of making it into a giant university where everyone wears ties and speaks perfect Latin. I was made for the world of entertainment, more specifically, music. There's nothing Id rather do more than be able to play a song on stage and watch that one guy at the corner of the room actually connect with what I'm singing. It has happened ONCE, and there was enough in his expression to grant me the patience and the will-power to work HARD towards being able to see that look again.
No college can teach you that.
No textbook can outline that connection.
It just happens.
I remember my five weeks back at Berklee College of Music. First night there and I get the word that there will be this super-improvised little gig at the 939 café across the street. The basic concept was to grab yourself a band and perform, no rehearsal, just get up there and make some music. Being the curious guy that I am, I loaded up my guitar case and off I went.
It was the best night of my life.
There was no pressure, no rules, no schedule, no lyrics to remember, no chords to memorize. All I did was get up on stage and be exactly who I was, with the people I wanted to be with. And thats where I noticed I wouldnt mind the hardships, the let downs, the pressure, the expectations, the alienation, the lack of support.
Because in the end that's the fuel I need
I have to learn to live with that certain kind of sadness to keep me hungry for more
And to get better
And to get bigger
And to get there
And one day I will
Oh hell,
I will...
I dont usually let people tell me I cant be a musician
I actually take their doubt as a sort of fuel
It makes me want to do it even more so one day I can turn to them and rub it in their faces
But heres something most people dont see in people like me
In people that want to make it so bad that they alread sacrifice a large portion of their lives just trying to get there somehow... one way or another
There comes a time where you smarten up for one day
Thats all it takes... 24 little hours and your mind goes from set to scrambled
Regular week, school as usual, Friday is coming up and I'm anxious to start recording the first song for the album "We Might As Well..."
The day goes by normally, nothing different happens: I'm still writing my lyrics during break, still working on the recording software during lunch time,
Until the last period swings by, and you start to hear the talks of "I'm going to a great college in Texas, the best in technology" or something along the lines of "I'm pretty sure, with these grades, MIT will be an easy win".
And I'm just sitting there thinking "hell... all these people around know what they want to do and it's all 'real' jobs". And before you know it, I'm hit with a full 50 meter wave of doubt and stress because when I analyze the possible outcomes of my life it all draws down to two very distinct options; I make it, live comfortably doing exactly what I've always wanted to do. Or... I dont make it, and am left scraping by, with little time left to give in to defeat.
Now that's just a scary thought, you have to admit. I dont have a professional career I'm pursuing. I'm not dreaming of making it into a giant university where everyone wears ties and speaks perfect Latin. I was made for the world of entertainment, more specifically, music. There's nothing Id rather do more than be able to play a song on stage and watch that one guy at the corner of the room actually connect with what I'm singing. It has happened ONCE, and there was enough in his expression to grant me the patience and the will-power to work HARD towards being able to see that look again.
No college can teach you that.
No textbook can outline that connection.
It just happens.
I remember my five weeks back at Berklee College of Music. First night there and I get the word that there will be this super-improvised little gig at the 939 café across the street. The basic concept was to grab yourself a band and perform, no rehearsal, just get up there and make some music. Being the curious guy that I am, I loaded up my guitar case and off I went.
It was the best night of my life.
There was no pressure, no rules, no schedule, no lyrics to remember, no chords to memorize. All I did was get up on stage and be exactly who I was, with the people I wanted to be with. And thats where I noticed I wouldnt mind the hardships, the let downs, the pressure, the expectations, the alienation, the lack of support.
Because in the end that's the fuel I need
I have to learn to live with that certain kind of sadness to keep me hungry for more
And to get better
And to get bigger
And to get there
And one day I will
Oh hell,
I will...
quarta-feira, 30 de outubro de 2013
Hoax Phone Call
It is now 1:48 am and not an ounce of sleep has tempted me.
In fact, this whole week has been sleepless, and the one before. But I dont mind. It seems to me that this insomnia grants me time to be inspired and write, be it music or ... these reflections.
Today, I woke up feeling horrible. An acute, pinching back pain followed by one hell of a headache rid me from my sleep. What a wonderful way to wake up on a glorious Tuesday. And it doesnt end there, PSAT exam from 8am to 11. Just my luck...
I've had quite the good amount of infuriating days these past couple of weeks and I'm starting to notice the reason why.
Lately, I've been in constant stress. I'm afraid to go out at night, I hide my cellphone by placing it in my shoe and covering the screen with the edge of my jeans when I'm in my car. I make sure to have extra money out of my wallet inside my sock just in case of emergencies. I'm starting to work too hard to be safe, and that worries me to an unconceivable extent.
And yet, as one would expect, coming back home would probably soothe my nerves. Wrong. Being home means I have time to worry about my brother or my parents. I keep the phone next to me, I keep track of where they are. I fear for their safety just as mine as I do for my own.
And to make matters worse, I received a suspicious phone call yesterday. I was relaxing on my couch when my phone rang, and an awkward number appeared on the screen. I am always skeptical about these random calls, but I cant just let it go. I picked up, and a woman informs me that an e-mail has been sent to the wrong contact and requires me to give my email to her again.
Again. That was the word she used. I never gave my email to anyone, specifically not anyone over the phone. So, immedietly I knew this was a hoax, an attempt to use my personal data to produce some harm.
But living in this god-forsaken city, you learn to be cruel to the cruel ones. I played along.
Asked her where she worked, she made up a name. Asked her for the time and date of when the email was sent and to whom it was sent to. Another invention. She starts to get impacient, and the lack of formality in her speech and constant usage of slang just proves my point right; she was up to no good.
After trying to dig up information, she hangs up. Three minutes pass and the same number calls my home phone. I pick up, and, with no regret to this day, I tell her to shove that email up her...
You get the point.
Now, at the time, it may have seemed like a stupid prank call. But in this city, you cant treat those hoaxes as jokes, because you never who might be the crazy one behind it all. What a person here can do with your life when they get their filthy hands on your information is devastating. However, I always find joy in messing with them, because they shouldnt get away with messing with my family.
In fact, this whole week has been sleepless, and the one before. But I dont mind. It seems to me that this insomnia grants me time to be inspired and write, be it music or ... these reflections.
Today, I woke up feeling horrible. An acute, pinching back pain followed by one hell of a headache rid me from my sleep. What a wonderful way to wake up on a glorious Tuesday. And it doesnt end there, PSAT exam from 8am to 11. Just my luck...
I've had quite the good amount of infuriating days these past couple of weeks and I'm starting to notice the reason why.
Lately, I've been in constant stress. I'm afraid to go out at night, I hide my cellphone by placing it in my shoe and covering the screen with the edge of my jeans when I'm in my car. I make sure to have extra money out of my wallet inside my sock just in case of emergencies. I'm starting to work too hard to be safe, and that worries me to an unconceivable extent.
And yet, as one would expect, coming back home would probably soothe my nerves. Wrong. Being home means I have time to worry about my brother or my parents. I keep the phone next to me, I keep track of where they are. I fear for their safety just as mine as I do for my own.
And to make matters worse, I received a suspicious phone call yesterday. I was relaxing on my couch when my phone rang, and an awkward number appeared on the screen. I am always skeptical about these random calls, but I cant just let it go. I picked up, and a woman informs me that an e-mail has been sent to the wrong contact and requires me to give my email to her again.
Again. That was the word she used. I never gave my email to anyone, specifically not anyone over the phone. So, immedietly I knew this was a hoax, an attempt to use my personal data to produce some harm.
But living in this god-forsaken city, you learn to be cruel to the cruel ones. I played along.
Asked her where she worked, she made up a name. Asked her for the time and date of when the email was sent and to whom it was sent to. Another invention. She starts to get impacient, and the lack of formality in her speech and constant usage of slang just proves my point right; she was up to no good.
After trying to dig up information, she hangs up. Three minutes pass and the same number calls my home phone. I pick up, and, with no regret to this day, I tell her to shove that email up her...
You get the point.
Now, at the time, it may have seemed like a stupid prank call. But in this city, you cant treat those hoaxes as jokes, because you never who might be the crazy one behind it all. What a person here can do with your life when they get their filthy hands on your information is devastating. However, I always find joy in messing with them, because they shouldnt get away with messing with my family.
Sad But True...
It hurts to say I've lost you. And what remains is not but a memory, not even the shadow that solemnly seeps through my door, but rather the thought that once upon a time, we had it all. And due credit to fact, we were happy once. We were truly, utterly happy. And the complications of our love were existent, yes, however they were never close to breaking the fine line that held us together; we were inseparable.
Yet who would’ve known that the one and only force that would break the tide was you? I didn’t see it coming, that's for sure. Whatever happened that day came out of the blue, and it hit me by surprise. It was your last week there, so granted I do appreciate your courage to put a halt to our adventure, but the method of your execution was enthralling. Cold. Dead.
I'd pull myself together after you left, because what use was it to run after you after all? Our inseparable and uncontrollable love had evaporated at the instant I kneeled down to speak to you. Now all that was left was my reconstruction, from the dirt up, and what a rocky ride that was.
To know that what I had was simple discontinued right there and then was a thought unconceivable to my being. It was over. Fast forward a couple of years. We seem to have finally broken loose of our past traumatic experience and carried on with our lives. Well, that same cannot be said of me.
I tend to have relapses, accidentally allow that one moment to shove itself from the catacombs of my consciousness, and present itself headfirst. The issue of that matter lies not on the manifestation of that concept of our love to live again, but the fact that I allow myself to think in such a way.
I am the cause of my own pain, and as much as I should blame you for it, the guilt calls only to my name.
Yet who would’ve known that the one and only force that would break the tide was you? I didn’t see it coming, that's for sure. Whatever happened that day came out of the blue, and it hit me by surprise. It was your last week there, so granted I do appreciate your courage to put a halt to our adventure, but the method of your execution was enthralling. Cold. Dead.
I'd pull myself together after you left, because what use was it to run after you after all? Our inseparable and uncontrollable love had evaporated at the instant I kneeled down to speak to you. Now all that was left was my reconstruction, from the dirt up, and what a rocky ride that was.
To know that what I had was simple discontinued right there and then was a thought unconceivable to my being. It was over. Fast forward a couple of years. We seem to have finally broken loose of our past traumatic experience and carried on with our lives. Well, that same cannot be said of me.
I tend to have relapses, accidentally allow that one moment to shove itself from the catacombs of my consciousness, and present itself headfirst. The issue of that matter lies not on the manifestation of that concept of our love to live again, but the fact that I allow myself to think in such a way.
I am the cause of my own pain, and as much as I should blame you for it, the guilt calls only to my name.
Late Night Music Making
I usually dont post my lyrics on social media in fear of it being stolen (happens a lot these days with all these crazy programs)
But I figured this is what I want to do with my life so I should be fearless of expressing my thoughts
I wrote this song because of recent developments with a girl I thought I'd be able to fight for
But somethings just take an unexpected turn for the worst
And what can we do to stop it?
Who knows...
"I Should've Known" By Gio Turra
I know there was no way
But baby I had faith
That one day we’d work it out
That one day we’d work it out
Now all our trains have stopped
As we shifted our cards
I know you grew it out
I know you grew it out …
I closed the blinds and babe I waited in the dark
I sealed my dreams and plant my feet to the floor
I told myself to visualize truth
But you don’t need me
As I need you
And I cant blame you at all
Distance has proven its stall
Yet I hoped you’d wait it out
I hope you’d wait it out
I closed the blinds and babe I waited in the dark
I sealed my dreams and plant my feet to the floor
I told myself to visualize truth
But you don’t need me
As I need you...
"I Should've Known" By Gio Turra
I know there was no way
But baby I had faith
That one day we’d work it out
That one day we’d work it out
Now all our trains have stopped
As we shifted our cards
I know you grew it out
I know you grew it out …
I closed the blinds and babe I waited in the dark
I sealed my dreams and plant my feet to the floor
I told myself to visualize truth
But you don’t need me
As I need you
And I cant blame you at all
Distance has proven its stall
Yet I hoped you’d wait it out
I hope you’d wait it out
I closed the blinds and babe I waited in the dark
I sealed my dreams and plant my feet to the floor
I told myself to visualize truth
But you don’t need me
As I need you...
sexta-feira, 4 de outubro de 2013
Why am I doing this?
Let's face it. We all love talking. Sharing ideas, exploring each others minds. I, undoubtedly, am a talker. It's such a pleasure to formulate your own ideas right there, on the spot, with the light shining on you. Mistakes? They dont exist. Error becomes a mere detail which goes by unnoticed. And that's the beauty of it; whats wrong is right, because wrong is inexistent.
But that doesnt happen now does it?
As much as we love talking, we love "snobbing"; we are the kings of our own kingdoms. So our conversations only go so far, because we are too different to accept the views of somebody else.
Thats why I'm writing here.
There's no trouble to be coped with when you're really writing for yourself!
Now I'll leave you with a chunk of the best speech I've ever heard:
"To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. .....
Soldiers! don’t give yourselves to brutes - men who despise you - enslave you - who regiment your lives - tell you what to do - what to think and what to feel! Who drill you - diet you - treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men - machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate - the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!"
- The Great Dictator, Charles Chaplin
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