sábado, 21 de abril de 2012

Uma ao fim de semana (14)



"I like the feeling of being a blank state.
I think i've come through something.
This is hard for me to admit.
In the past i have always expected the worst to happen.
Perhaps i still do think the worst will happen,
But what if it doesn't?
What if, at this point,
I am in fact free.
That i can walk down the street.
Get on the bus.
Buy a magazine.
Talk to a guy in a shop.
Try on pair of shoes.
I don't need permission.
I can do that.
I got my room now,
And that's important.
It's like a base for me,
And then there's that guy, james.
I don't want him to bother me.
I don't want anyone to bother me.
I don't want anyone in my hair.
I got my room and that's the main thing,
But he is okay.
If i could allow one person to bother me,
It might possibly be james.
Who knows?
It is too early to say.
I still got the cd that one of the girls in the hospital made me.
I can't imagine who made it for her.
All of the music is pretty old on it.
Pretty random stuff
I like it though.
I wouldn't have liked this stuff before,
But hey, i'm a blank slate.
I can like it.
There's no rules.
No agenda.
No learning.
Just music.
Sweet, simple music.
I've been memorizing my favorites.
I don't have any instruments.
I've just been sitting in a patch of sunlight
At the put of the bed in front of the mirror.
I keep one headphone out,
And i sing the track along with the cd.
I wonder if my voice sounds good.
I wonder if i'm even in tune.
I have even tried a few scales,
Though very quietly.
How uncool is that?
Me singing scales in my new room.
On the disk is written jackson brown, nina simone, bill withers
On the disk is written howard jones.
Right now i feel like a starving person who
Is tasting food for the first time.
Howard jones is my mozart.
He is like buttered toast.
Don't ever tell anyone i said that.
I wonder what i should do.
When i was in the hospital it was easy.
They had a schedule.
I was like a kid the whole time.
They were in charge; i was a kid.
I jumped up and came down here.
I put from my mind comfortable thoughts about hospital life.
I am trying to block out thoughts about sex.
I feel like i want to sing, but i'm in the library.
I have fantasized for two years now about a job.
Any job.
Any job that would plucks me back into some sort of normal rhythm,
Some sort of normal society.
I thought for a while that the flock was going to be enough,
But i have to keep moving.
I am twenty three.
What the hell am i doing in a high street library
Writing about nothing?
I wouldn't mind kissing him once more.
Or at least, i wouldn't mind having a kiss only policy with him.
For some reason i feel that it shouldn't go any further,
But he's a pretty sensational kisser, hence the policy.
I wonder if i could do myself some sort of internal injury.
If i just kissed then left the room as soon as the kiss was over.
If i never took the seduction any further forward,
I couldn't damage a kidney or a loin or something.
It's a bit annoying i can't go into the boy's shop.
I want his advice.
I was to dress, or something.
But i look too much like a boy these days.
Why can't i look like a girly girl once in a while?"

Howard Jones is my Mozart, God Help the Girl

'Uma ao fim de semana' é a rubrica d'O Quinto Andar da qual consta uma musica que se ajusta, por uma razão ou por outra, ao estado de espírito da minha pessoa nesse momento. Sugestões são bem-vindas (embora sujeitas a apreciação). Podem enviá-las para lp.going.80s@gmail.com.

segunda-feira, 16 de abril de 2012

The Net-Gen


Caros pais e educadores em geral, partilho convosco duas expressões (acrónimos) das várias que retive numa palestra à qual tive a sorte de assistir hoje, e que teve como tema "Inglês e a Internet". Nunca é demais tomarmos conhecimento das coisas que as nossas crianças e jovens escrevem quando estão a falar com alguém pela internet. Nem sempre percebemos, ou não damos importância, mas, se calhar, convinha...


POS - Parents Over Shoulder

LMIRL- Lets Meet in Real Life
Se quiserem saber mais sobre o assunto, esta ferramenta está ao vosso dispor sem quaisquer custos: http://www.educause.edu/educatingthenetgen

(porque o saber não ocupa lugar... ;)

domingo, 8 de abril de 2012

Mais do que palavras... XXVI

Bastam-me as cinco pontas de uma estrela
E a cor dum navio em movimento
E como ave, ficar parada a vê-la
E como flor, qualquer odor no vento.

Basta-me a lua ter aqui deixado
Um luminoso fio de cabelo
Para levar o céu todo enrolado
Na discreta ambição do meu novelo.

Só há espigas a crescer comigo
Numa seara para passear a pé
Esta distância achada pelo trigo
Que me dá só o pão daquilo que é.

Deixem ao dia a cama de um domingo
Para deitar um lírio que lhe sobre.
E a tarde cor-de-rosa de um flamingo
Seja o tecto da casa que me cobre

Baste o que o tempo traz na sua anilha
Como uma rosa traz Abril no seio.
E que o mar dê o fruto duma ilha
Onde o amor por fim tenha recreio.


Poema destinado a haver domingoNatália Correia
(Poesia Completa, Publicações Dom Quixote, 1999)

segunda-feira, 2 de abril de 2012

eu realmente não devia...

mas...





a tentação é grande!

(ainda por cima estamos na quaresma e resistir às tentações é importante e assim, eu sei - digo eu de mim para mim mesma...)

domingo, 1 de abril de 2012

(re)lendo em férias

“Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable loneliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own.”
James Joyce, Dubliners


(muito tenho eu de agradecer aos meus 'periodozinhos' de férias por me permitirem saborear pérolas da Literatura como esta. oxalá venham muitos - períodos de férias E 'pérolas', entenda-se)