No way, No how, we forget what we've seen.

What's stopping us from flying free?

What a beautiful world, so fragile and fertile
Pain filled the void when boy met girl
He’s a puppet to nature, one year later
Now so deeply and sickly in love it makes him hate her
The average romanticized American relationship
Sinks, capsized when either side becomes a slave to it
Conditioned, dependent, afraid to be alone
He needs that feeling that he can’t create all on his own
He despises the fact she has a life outside of him
It drives him crazy to think she’s not insanely consumed with him
Give her the guilt-trip and maybe she’ll quit living,
To stay behind his prison walls and lose all individualism
Well this is happiness, masochistic torture
Played by the decadent, craved of affection
The needle digs deep to push contentment through his bloodstream
And drown out hollow, the pothole of a junkie
If he could only hear her sing, he
wouldn’t want to break her wings
But emptiness has such a warm, subtle sting
She makes up for what he lacks, trapped,
He can’t imagine life without someone like that


We’ve rediscovered the long-lost art of dying
Only to lonely resent angels for flying
Twisted, living off of each other’s sickness like parasites
This is paradise

We’ve rediscovered the long-lost art of dying
Only to lonely resent angels for flying
Addicted, afraid to take control of my own life
This is paradise

What a beautiful world, emotionally destroyed
Her became plural when girl met boy
Between several breakups and plenty relapses
Routine bred-comfort led to serious attachment
Now every once in a while she forgets to breathe
Terrified of losing him, paradise is misery
Too much faith in the life-saving knight in shining armour
Now her knight’s noticing the scars she can’t hide any longer
But they were her story way before he was
It was gross hope to think he could heal such deep cuts
At first it felt so right but after one too many fights,
He turned out that hallway light and all
the wonder turned to spite
So they sleep in the same bed with guns to each others’ heads
Dead the romance, boiling the blood that painted roses red
Suffering from post-honeymoon disease, bleached through
His whole existence, she’ll die if he decides to leave
Addicted to the way she feels when they spend time together
Detouring the now in a childish attempt to find forever
Despite the fact they hold each other heart to heart
You can’t be that close to somebody without being so far apart




Silence, the most obscure sound I’ve ever heard
Those lonely, giant spaces in between your every word
And maybe, I’m totally crazy for holding on but
Just cus I’m insane, don’t mean that I’m wrong
Now that you’re gone I can’t sleep at night
I barely even function right, my memory’s on overdrive
Too hungry and too cold to cry
Miss the companionship I once took for granted
The way you helped me manage, the partnership that vanished
But I don’t expect you to stay chained by the ankle,
There’s so much world to see so, fly free my angel
I’m dying without you, but it’s teaching me to live
Heaven ain’t something someone else can give
It’s all inside of me


There’s so much world to see
What’s stopping you from flying free?

by Eyedea & Abilities, ''Paradise''

WE WANT FREEDOM

Perhaps the way to meet tomorrow’s challenges is not to use yesterday’s solutions, but to dare to think the previously unthinkable, to speak the previously unspeakable, and to try that which was previously out of the question. — Neale Donald Walsch

Quando o Mundo, está em Paz.

Wake up and face me
Don't play dead 'cause maybe
Someday I will walk away and say
You disappoint me
Maybe you're better off this way












Passive - A Perfect Circle

Tecido do Tempo.

Enquanto estive lá, voltei com mais do que pedi. Concentrei e aprendi. Dei e cedi todas as minhas defesas. E aconteceu mesmo o que quis. Voltei diferente, por umas semanas, até mesmo paralisado com o tudo o que é sagrado que senti. Mas agora sim, não preciso de óculos.





"And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being."

Black Elk
"E enquanto eu estive lá, vi mais do que eu posso dizer e eu entendi mais do que eu vi, porque eu estava a ver de uma maneira sagrada das formas de todas as coisas do espírito, e a forma de todas as formas como eles devem viver juntos como um ser ".
Black Elk

Mars Volta - Metatron

Maybe I'll breakdown
Maybe I'll try
Circumvent innoculation
And I just want a cut
When will I breakdown
Lately I might
Unconnect the fascination
And I just want to touch

This is a list
They're my demands
Forget the question
Come on bring
Your nervous hands
You read it in my letter,
''Patience worth is dead''
Suffocate the inkwell
I am legion said the pen
Her seraph snout
And cruciform limp
I blame the shrouding
Of a lesser man
My sigil contraptions
They work with
No crutches
Don't show me
The hinges
I am absent

She came to me
When she was
Pouring out of drool
Under sedation
Under vulgar multitudes
If you stay and try
To fix what you did
The sheets were wet from
All those messages
A million petitions
Her lock with no key
You forfeit the right to be believed
Full implant
Shapeless as a jewel
And I am stranded by eternal solitude

The vault that I call home
It falls beneath your palms
Before I crawl my out she calls
When you're standing
Right outside my window
Water thirsting
You're standing
Right outside my window
When will I drown

I'll never get a distance shot
Heard vessper pure
I never want to see your face
Until the word is made flesh
You'd better ask Metatron
Those flowers that withered away
In the pages of your book
For one day
They won't block your route

In the dead plot
You dream in
Ten go away
Ten born of pray
Ten go away

Folding wormholes
My time is riding
In the alphabet
My time is
Writing on the wall

Debase by your sentence
I fell in the trap
What door slid behind me
I can't see it anymore
When she sleeps as a witness
Got no better hands
Tied a single stutter
Do you speak my dialect
Accidents will happen
Keep your earnings to yourself
One sip under the table
Until it moves all by itself
Eye of Fatima
I've kept all your dreams
In a waking isolation
Of indictment

Ponto morto.

Tou farto de cabeças frias presas a trinta cadeados.
Tou farto de hipocrisias, rodeadas de falsidade que chega ao ponto da insanidade.
Tou farto de falta de amor, honestidade e compaixão.
Tou farto da pressão, como amante da vida, que vocês me dão.
Tou farto de ser julgado, sem ser conhecido, e nem sequer abraçado.
Tou farto da sociedade que nos corrupta a todos.
Tou farto de estar tão farto de me fartar assim.




(...)



Por isso respiro fundo, dou outro mergulho.
Dou-me por mim no fundo, mas sem a cabeça atrofiada.
Passo a Passo, estou eu numa caminhada.
Porque uma nova Porta apareceu na minha estrada.
Agora cabe, simplesmente a mim abri-la e seguir para o Desconhecido.

PAPEM essa MERDA.

A coisa deprimente e horrível é o facto da maioria da população, hoje em dia, confiarem em interesses inúteis como vestir roupas com nomes de marcas para que as pessoas gostem mais deles, e ouvirem música primitiva, inútil e sem talento cheias de letras sobre álcool, capitalismo e finalmente, sexo.