Fim.

Este blog nasceu num momento de Amor.
Foi por ele alimentado e nutrido.
Esse Amor, tal como era vivido e sentido, terminou.
E com ele, a razão de ser deste blog.
Deixo aqui o meu mais profundo agradecimento a todos os que por cá passaram, ao longo destes 2 anos e 10 meses.

Um bem-haja a todos.
.

Do meu coração, para ti. Para sempre.

Oh thank you for your love
Thank you for your love
When all was falling in the seizure of pain
Oh thank you for your love

Oh thank you for your love
Oh thank you for your love
When I was lost in the dark darkness
Oh thank you for your love

I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh

Thank you, thank you

Oh thank you for your love
Oh thank you for your love
When my mind was broken into a thousand pieces
Oh thank you for your love

I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh
I want to thank you, oh

Thank you, thank you
I thank you

Just an empty room. Full of empty space.

If you go away
On this summer day
Then you might as well
Take the sun away

All the birds that flew
In the summer sky
When our love was new
And our hearts were high

When the day was young
And the night was long
And the moon stood still
For the night bird song

If you go away
If you go away
If you go away

But if you stay
I'll make you a day
Like no day has been
Or will be again

We'll sail the Sun
We'll ride on the rain
We'll talk to the trees
And worship the wind

Then if you go
I'll understand
Leave me just enough love
To hold in my hand

If you go away
If you go away
If you go away

If you go away
As I know you must
There'll be nothing left
In this world to trust

Just an empty room
Full of empty space
Like the empty look
I see on your face

I'd have been the
Shadow of your dark
If I thought it might
Keep me by your side

If you go away
If you go away
If you go away

Please, don't go away

far, far away from my heart

Well the feeling's coming on again
It's kicking and is screaming deep inside me
I'm so tired of fighting with myself
If you're not here I'm nothing, I'm alone
So I pour another drink and take a hit
And I wonder where the smoke goes
I'm feeling more and more like less and less
Cause I'll curse the telephone along these lines
Because words are all we have for too much time

So far far away from my heart
Far far away from my heart

You're just a voice that floats from nowhere near
And a memory that's starting to unravel
We've been thru this so many nights before
That you'd think it would be easier by now
So I let the chemical reaction cloud over the pain
Keeps on hurting
As I slowly but too slowly drift away
To a place I know where I don't have to think
God I hate myself for loving, smoke and drink

So far far away from my heart
Far far away from my heart

Now I'm staring blankly at the TV
Holding this guitar for some comfort
But it's so hard to write a simple song
Try and turn this feeling into melody
So I put it down get on my knees
Close my eyes so tight, now I'm praying
To anyone that maybe can hear me
Tell me everything will be O.K.
And I don't think I can make another day

So far far away from my heart
Far far away from my heart

Gainsbourg (Vie Héroique)

Os franceses continuam a ganhar pontos no domínio das biopics. Depois do hiper-realismo (arrepiante) de Piaf em La Môme, chegou até nós o tão esperado Gainsbourg (Vie Héroique).

E o melhor deste filme está na escolha de quem o realizou: trocar a Verdade pela Fábula. Mais do que uma reprodução dos factos reais da vida de Gainsbourg, encontramos um misto de verdade e fantasia, de realidade e mito. Mais do que um filme, esta é uma homenagem, feita com respeito - tenho quase a certeza que um americano iria explorar a fase decadente, já no fim de carreira - e mestria - da escolha dos actores à recriação das épocas que definiram a sua carreira, tudo é perfeito.

Gainsbourg (Vie Héroique) é o filme que Gainsbourg merece, imortalizando aquilo que realmente o definiu: o seu espírito transgressor, o seu magnetismo e o seu enorme talento como músico e poeta. Esta é a Verdade.

Estou A Ficar Velho (1)

No outro dia vi um jovem à porta do Brown's de casaco preto, calças de lycra rosa fucsia e botas peludas até ao joelho. Desisti de analisar e arrumei o assunto da seguinte forma: era um cruzamento entre um gótico, uma pastilha elástica e o Chewbacca...

Esta semana...

Bom som. Gosto.

Já se avizinha...

Não é por nada que costumamos dizer «Já estamos em Outubro... daqui ao Natal é um pulinho.»