Mostrando postagens com marcador wannabe greg. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador wannabe greg. Mostrar todas as postagens

2 de out. de 2011

Maybe It Did


there's a strange kind of guilt corroding me
it comes from the heart, not from the brain.
i never felt this for a friend.
i really never cared for people this much.
guess i never had a real reciprocous friendship,
not that people don't like me,
it's the opposite.

it's not like i'm that guy that everybody hates,
in fact, i'm a very easy guy.
in fact,
i can't name many people who really have things against me,
the people who do is the people who i fucked around so much,
with my sarcasm and my confusion and my ever-changing histories.
people usually enjoy my presence.
with my jokes and my attitude of "i'll always be there for you"
i just can't enjoy back.
if someone needs me during hard times, i'll give a hand.
always. for anyone.
but i can't enjoy people.
i can't enjoy good feelings.

anyway, back to the main subject.
i tried not to say too much about my feelings,
i know that there's a huge possibility that i'm over reacting,
so i can't say to her "you're my second muse in 10 years of writing"
and it's not "i can't" like "i can't give you money because i have so little",
it's "i can't" like "i can't kill a dog. or a fur seal."

i remember one time when i wrote "there's only one love biggest than the first: the last"
so. i can't tell if she is really my second muse in 10 years of writing.
maybe i just put all my love for the dead one on her, just like i always did.
maybe i just try to paint a picture of me to her and other to you.
i can't know.
i fell like it is. i'm sure i fell like it is.
but i don't know if it will fade.
so, for all effects, i paint the "she's just another muse" picture.
for you, i paint the "what i'm felling today" picture.

it's terrible.
fells like i'm making up all this.
it's terrible.
since i can hurt more people.
i don't want to hurt anyone again,
but to do that properly, i should stay away.
i can't help, there's a manipulative bitch inside of my head.
i can't see what i'm doing, 'till it's done.
i can't see the flaws in the project 'till it all fall in my head.

i can't tell right now if this is just me manipulating again.
would you'd recognize if i was? i wouldn't..
i'm not one to be trusted.

you see. in this very text, you can see how i change my mind.
in just five minutes.
wish i had just one mind.
wish i had just one opinion about things.
wish i had jesus in my heart.

i'm a terrible person.
such a terrible person.
i'm a jerk.

if you don't have a better solution,
i hate to say,
but i gotta get away from you.
i can't stand messing things.
you don't deserve this,
and i won't know how to handle the guilt that'll sure come after.

maybe it all didn't affect you so much as it affected me.

i'm lost.
i've been trough ten years of shit.
"See, the luck I've had/Can make a good man/Turn bad"
i think it did.

*.log - home
*.mp3 - The Smiths - Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
*.txt - none
*.iso - none
*.dvd - none

25 de fev. de 2008

Hoje sim, me perdi.

Após um final de semana vazio,
uma semana vazia.

"Já está quase acabando o mês heim?" me disseram alegremente.
"E daí? Depois tem outro mês."
"Um mês a menos no ano!"
"E o que vem depois desse ano?"

Gosh.

*.log - At work
*.mp3 - Camille - Janine II
*.txt - Anthony Burguess - 1985
*.ps2 - Nada
*.dvd - MTV Apresenta Gram

7 de fev. de 2008

The Cow(ard)

1- A Poesia

"A vaquinha que pastava
nem notou, distraída
do machado que espreitava
para torná-la comida"

2- A Interpretação

"A vaca representa a classe média que pasta nos subúrbios das grandes cidades, onde estão sempre com medo do estado opressor, representado aqui pelo machado."

3- (...)

A VACA É SÓ UMA VACA.


*.log - At work
*.mp3 - Morrissey - Air Munich Disaster 1958
*.txt - Anthony Burgess - 1985
*.ps2 - Black
*.dvd - High Fidelity

Ps. Ontem fez cinqüenta anos do acidente.

12 de dez. de 2007

everybody lies.

Agora,
nós somos só um alvo.
E logo,
qualquer um vai morrer.
O tempo não passa e o tempo não é.

Me preocupo tanto em fazer algo que sei que ninguém vai notar.
Um texto ou um ângulo, num desenho.
Ninguém mede.
Só notam quando o prédio caí.
Nós somos algo apenas quando na tragédia.
Do resto,
caralho, nada importa MESMO.

Não me torno menos (adjetivo pejorativo qualquer)
só por admitir que sou (adjetivo pejorativo qualquer).

02:16pm (DST) - 12/12/2007

*.log - At work
*.mp3 - Roger Waters - 4.50AM (Go Fishing)
*.txt - Chuck Palahniuk - Assombro
*.ps2 - Grand Theft Auto - Vice City Stories
*.dvd - Aeon Flux

29 de nov. de 2007

Escolha um alguém.
Alguém que não eu, meu irmão.
Alguém que não eu.

Eu durmo no banheiro do trabalho.
Só não vou admitir,
pois vão me demitir.

Agora sim, agora vai.
Agora sim, agora vai!
Ops 'missed the starting gun'...

Não é controlado, é contido.
Não é contido, é preso.
Preso não é, é vácuo.

12:49pm (DST) - 29/11/2007

*.log - At work.
*.mp3 - Mombojó - Estático
*.txt - F. Scott Fitzgerald - O Grande Gatsby
*.ps2 - Guitar Hero III - Legends Of Rock