Já sei namorar
I already know how to love
Já sei beijar de língua
I already know how to kiss with tongue
Agora, só me resta sonhar
So now all that’s left is to dream
Já sei onde ir
I already know where to go
Já sei onde ficar
I already know where to stay
Agora, só me falta sair
So now all that’s left is to live
Não tenho paciência pra televisão
I don’t have patience for the television
Eu não sou audiência para a solidão
I’m not the audience for solitude
Eu sou de ninguém
I belong to no one
Eu sou de todo mundo
I belong to everyone
E todo mundo me quer bem
And everyone loves me well
Eu sou de ninguém
I belong to no one
Eu sou de todo mundo
I belong to everyone
E todo mundo é meu também
And everyone belongs to me as well
Já sei namorar
I already know how to love
Já sei chutar a bola
I already know how to shoot the ball
Agora, só me falta ganhar
So now all that remains is to win
Não tenho juizo
I don’t have judgment or reason
Se você quer a vida em jogo
If you want life as a game
Eu quero é ser feliz
I want to be happy
Tô te querendo como ninguém
I love you like no one else
Tô te querendo como Deus quiser
I love you like God would
Tô te querendo como eu te quero
I love you like I love you
Tô te querendo como se quer
I love you like you love to
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Blind Expectations
An assumption of fortune
The reliance
on something greater,
something that should be greater.
A character to build on
Letting go of devotion,
and not allowing them
to slip through the cracks.
A paramour attaining affection
A familiar face gone acquaintance
that was before this,
completely consecrated to another.
An eternity to exist
The false perfections
and unfounded perceptions,
gone astray and relinquished.
The reliance
on something greater,
something that should be greater.
A character to build on
Letting go of devotion,
and not allowing them
to slip through the cracks.
A paramour attaining affection
A familiar face gone acquaintance
that was before this,
completely consecrated to another.
An eternity to exist
The false perfections
and unfounded perceptions,
gone astray and relinquished.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
You again
You are my rock. When I feel like I'm loosing you I feel like I'm loosing myself. You are strong and you listen. You are my rock. I love you. I couldn't tell you this, but it's true. No matter how upset I get you're still there and I know I'll always have that. You mean everything to me. I really wish you knew that.
Monday, February 15, 2010
You
Recently you hurt me and you don't know. You're the one that can't remember, but I can. You told me you were unhappy and I'm sure if you knew you were saying it you wouldn't have said it. You said you didn't like the thing I love the most. It's everything but artificial trash being shoved down my throat. I love it and when you said you were unhappy with it, well I thought it was too damn bad. You don't realize how happy it makes me and it's terrible because I know my happiness has been in your best interest for a while. I'm not saying it in vein but it's true. What makes you happy makes me happy, and I would never say anything to take that away from you. I guess I realized who I'm really dealing with and it's nothing like I thought. It's a damn shame because I really enjoyed your presence, it made me think a little longer and feel a little better but now, it's just a damn shame.
Regarding, The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World
The crashing waves on the shore of this village gave us a gift and his name was Esteban. Esteban was a man of great strength, not only physically but in his heart. He showed a small town who he was but he never spoke a word. Through great modesty he let this village imagine what the world of a man with great size was, how he lived and what he did.
Esteban never spoke but he told us stories of his home. He lived in the house on a small private island with the tallest trees, large doors, and strong floors with the ability to sustain a man with great pride. The island contained beaches slightly longer than most and his china slightly stronger. Esteban told us of his adventures and how he would miss his wife and children. He had flown around the world, twice. Climbed the tallest mountain and swam the depths of the deepest seas. His wife was the happiest woman in the world. She had deep brown hair that fell to her back and eyes that only saw the best qualities in others, similar to those of Esteban. Esteban was clumsy at times but he managed a wholesome life. His kids would run and romp around the island playing games like kitchen and house. His troubles came to us shyly but pertinent in his memory. His family had always been careful with his care. His size had kept him from playing sports and having friends. People in his town often looked at him with fear for other villagers didn’t know he was a sort of gentle giant. He taught this village how to live and regain a confidence that was lost. Our homes small and congested at times would soon grow to ones Esteban could effortlessly manage through. Beds could easily be made longer and our floors marginally stronger. The fronts of our houses were once a rainbow of tope, beige, and grey and are now colors beyond our imagination, sea foam green, sunburst yellow and periwinkle. Esteban taught us to live in color with our eyes a little wider and our hearts considerably larger. Esteban was a proud, strong and inviting man. He never asked anything of us but what he gave was hard to match in comparison.
Our lives of uncertainty are now filled with an immense amount of security and gratefulness to a man that came to us by sea. The light aqua blue in the waves that crash on our shores is now matched by the color of our houses, the smell of our blossoming gardens and a sun that seems to shine a little brighter every morning. The sand on our beach went from pebbles to powder and the trees surrounding the village sway a little further. Sometimes you can hear the wind and the waves together purging a familiar sound, something with the ring similar to the name Esteban.
Esteban never spoke but he told us stories of his home. He lived in the house on a small private island with the tallest trees, large doors, and strong floors with the ability to sustain a man with great pride. The island contained beaches slightly longer than most and his china slightly stronger. Esteban told us of his adventures and how he would miss his wife and children. He had flown around the world, twice. Climbed the tallest mountain and swam the depths of the deepest seas. His wife was the happiest woman in the world. She had deep brown hair that fell to her back and eyes that only saw the best qualities in others, similar to those of Esteban. Esteban was clumsy at times but he managed a wholesome life. His kids would run and romp around the island playing games like kitchen and house. His troubles came to us shyly but pertinent in his memory. His family had always been careful with his care. His size had kept him from playing sports and having friends. People in his town often looked at him with fear for other villagers didn’t know he was a sort of gentle giant. He taught this village how to live and regain a confidence that was lost. Our homes small and congested at times would soon grow to ones Esteban could effortlessly manage through. Beds could easily be made longer and our floors marginally stronger. The fronts of our houses were once a rainbow of tope, beige, and grey and are now colors beyond our imagination, sea foam green, sunburst yellow and periwinkle. Esteban taught us to live in color with our eyes a little wider and our hearts considerably larger. Esteban was a proud, strong and inviting man. He never asked anything of us but what he gave was hard to match in comparison.
Our lives of uncertainty are now filled with an immense amount of security and gratefulness to a man that came to us by sea. The light aqua blue in the waves that crash on our shores is now matched by the color of our houses, the smell of our blossoming gardens and a sun that seems to shine a little brighter every morning. The sand on our beach went from pebbles to powder and the trees surrounding the village sway a little further. Sometimes you can hear the wind and the waves together purging a familiar sound, something with the ring similar to the name Esteban.
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