Siamese Whispers (11)

Melancholy lost the feeling of despair...

I am a convict who never had the faith to be free.
The hour is approaching... Execution will be soon.
The darkened room is becoming exiguous,
Space and time are vanishing in the vacuum of the non-existence.

Despair is turning to anxiety.
I am nowhere to be found.

Elysium

«No one has said what the truth should be,
And no one decided that I'd feel this way,
If you felt as I,
Would you betray yourself.

But you can't deny how I feel,
And you can't decide for me.

No one should fear what they cannot see,
And no ones to blame it's just hypocrisy,
It's written in your eyes,
And how I despise myself.

But you can't deny how I feel,
And you can't decide for me.

And it's your heart,
That's so wrong,
Mistaken,
You'll never know,
Your feathered sacred self.

But you can't deny how I feel,
And you can't decide for me.

And you can't deny how I feel,
And why should you decide for me.»

Portishead

Siamese Whispers (10)

I dream about a luminous morning
When I wake up emerging
From the crystal morning dew.

Long sense of an unearthly pleasure
That strives to exist at the thin end
Of a cutinizing scream for freedom.

Siamese Whispers (9)

I defy this sharpened end
With my pallid moonlight cloak.

Siamese Whispers (8)

Underneath this stiffen silence
Comes a grey sound that conjure
The night to be eternal:
A vague glimpse of what is to be.

Siamese Whispers (7)

Another drop of blood blurred my vision.
«I will never be clean again…
Touched her eyes…»

Silently comes the dawn…
And I? I’m just a stranger looking at him
For the first time in a year. Excited!

Another drop of blood blurred my vision forever.

Siamese Whispers (6)

Lost… and falling into the nevermore thought.

«Come now, don’t loose your mind... and self…
The clock is ticking, your heart is stroking.
Come now, raise yourself. Slowly now.
You have lost all your movements.
Come, look at the moon. See yourself.
Can you move? Can you smile?
Can you see, one last time, your tear
Reflected in the pallid moonlight?»

Long… my mind has long gone.

Siamese Whispers (5)

Can this feeling be a lonely widow
In the verge of committing suicide?
If it is not it must be one of those
Useless minutes that over extends its existence.

Siamese Whispers (4)

Disturbed from the inside…
Torn apart by a prolonged desire
That floats over this morning breeze.

Deranged… and suffering to be free.
Voices from an unknown past,
That stiffens this melancholy,
Shout out your last word
In a silent scream…
In a voiceless pronunciation of innocence.

Siamese Whispers (3)

Long and prolonged sense of dilution
On a body that resists itself to exist.

«Is it over, this illusion of seeing…
Is it gone that scent that embraced me?»

This closure is starting to get my physical space…
Disturbed...
And I, on an ethereal dream, run vaguely
On the streets of the yesterday that never was.

Siamese Whispers (2)

Come, silent and trembling…
Show me your glittering smile
O Moon of peaceful delight.
Forever shroud me with your pallid scent
Of eternal sorrow and utopian desire.

Thirty-Three

«Speak to me in a language i can hear humour me
before i have to go
deep in thought i forgive everyone
as the cluttered streets greet me once again
i know i can't be late, supper's waiting on the table
tomorrow's just an excuse away
so I pull my collar up and face the cold, on my own
the earth laughs beneath my heavy feet
at the blasphemy in my old jangly walk
steeple guide me to my heart and home
the sun is out and up and down again
i know i'll make it, love can last forever
graceful swans of never topple to the earth
and you can make it last, forever you
you can make it last, forever you
and for a moment i lose myself
wrapped up in the pleasures of the world
i've journeyed here and there and back again»

«But in the same old haunts i still find my friends
mysteries not ready to reveal
sympathies i'm ready to return
i'll make the effort, love can last forever
graceful swans of never topple to the earth
tomorrow's just an excuse
and you can make it last, forever you
you can make it last, forever you.»

Billy Corgan

Siamese Whispers (1)

Fragile mind that stirs this evening night,
With deep whispers of gentle delight,
Show us that ethereal deliverance.

Memórias da impossível certeza

Memórias que se sobrepõem ao pensamento meramente funcional e instrumental...
Memórias de um futuro passado, de outrora...
Memórias de um nada erguido pelo vento crispado.
Memórias que entorpecem os sentidos.

Sons vagos de um ser sonhado vivo que já não vive.
Palavras sem sentido que se sobrepõem.
Longe de pensar, sinto-me entorpecido por este calor persistente.

Onde está o descanso prometido...
Não, não quero descansar... quero sentir-me vivo!
Sentir esse grito que não cessa...

Mas senti-lo sem aquela dor dilacerante...
Mas senti-lo sempre... sempre... sempre...
É por isso que doi... Por sabê-lo efémero,
Perdido na vacuidade da Eternidade!

Lembro-me da primeira vez em que deixei de sentir o grito dentro de mim...
Lembro-me... Tenho essa memória vaga...
Memória entorpecida de um ser que não o é...
Memória do último suspiro:
«Olhei para o relógio... um último movimento...
O cerrar dos olhos... o ponteiro dos segundos...
37... 38... Suspiro... 39... Cessou o grito!»
Lembro-me de qualquer coisa que vai acontecer...
Memórias da impossível certeza!

Dead Souls

«Someone take these dreams away
That point me to another day
A duel of personalities
That stretch all true reality
And keep calling me
They keep calling me
Keep on calling me
They keep calling me»

«When figures from the past stand tall
And mocking voices ring the hall
Imperialistic house of prayer
Conquistadores who took their share
And keep calling me
They keep calling me
Keep on calling me
They keep calling me»

«Calling me, calling me
Calling me, calling me
They keep calling me
Keep on calling me
They keep calling me
They keep calling me»

Joy Division