piquenique

Bu!

A vida é um baile de máscaras, aonde o que as distingue é a beleza de suas diferenças. Mas tudo o que há por trás delas pode lhe surpreender, inclusive o que há por trás da sua.

Quem poupa os maus, ofende os bons.


A dor grande, verdadeira, seria portanto um mal bastante assassino para abranger o passado, o presente e o futuro, não deixar íntegra qualquer parte da vida, desnaturar de uma vez por todas o pensamento, inscrever-se inalteravelmente nos lábios e na fronte, quebrantar ou afrouxar as molas do prazer, colocando na alma um princípio de nojo por qualquer coisa desse mundo.

-

Balzac


Was it a huntsman or a player 

that made you pay the cost

that now assumes relaxed positions 

and prostitutes your loss?

Where you tortured by your own thirst

In those pleasures that you seek  

that made you Tom the curious 

that makes you James the week?

And you claim you got something going 

something you call unique 

but I’ve seen you self-pity showing 

as the tears rolled down your cheeks 

Soon you know I’ll leave you

and I’ll never look behind 

‘cos I was born for the purpose 

that crucifies your mind 

so con, convince your mirror 

as you’ve always done before 

giving substance to shadows 

giving substance ever more 

And you assume you got something to offer 

secrets shiny and new 

but how much of you is repetition 

that you didn’t whisper to him too

❤