These are my theories about what prompts me to play some merry note in an unbearable and endless discourse. Nothing gives me more pleasure than listening to your silent voice persuading my absent-minded eyes. (A keen sense of losing oneself in a million places at once.) Showing no mercy, your recruit me in an impudent world. That disarming smile discloses your dissimulated weakness. I have intimated to you that I will not survive this short span of life. I will not repel any time inversion. I want to invest all my efforts in the invasions of the past. Because it's impossible to stand this gloomy present anymore; getting older without being alive...suffering from loss of memory despite not remembering how it feels...
These are my theories about missing a world I have never had. A world waiting to be tamed, tangling with spleepy scientists. This is me torn between staying until tomorrow and perishing now.
These are my theories about missing a world I have never had. A world waiting to be tamed, tangling with spleepy scientists. This is me torn between staying until tomorrow and perishing now.
3 comments:
Oi miuda
a seriu adoru te a ti e ao teu blog, mas issu de escreveres em ingles, tem que se lhe diga!
:D
bju
Silence? When it comes to silence i always recall this song by Rage Against The Machine, Fistufl of Steel, and start singing it:
Huh!
Check it...uggh!
Silence
Something about silence makes me sick
'Cause silence can be violence
Sorta like a slit wrist
If the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin'
Some speak the sounds
But speak in silent voices
Like radio is silent
Though it fills the air with noises
Its transmissions bring submission
As ya mold to the unreal
And mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Yeah...and mad mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
('Cause I know the power of the question)
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
(And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question)
It's time to flow like the fluid in ya veins
If ya will it, I will spill it
And ya out just as quick as ya came
Not a silent one
But a defiant one
Never a normal one
'Cause I'm the bastard son
With the visions of the move
Vocals not to soothe
But to ignite and put in flight
My sense of militance
Groovin', playin' this game called survival
The status, the elite, the enemy, the rival
The silent sheep slippin', riffin', trippin'
Give ya a glimpse of the reality I'm grippin'
Steppin' into the jam and I'm slammin' like Shaquille
Mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Yeah...and mad boy grips the microphone
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
('Cause I know the power of the question)
Wit' a fistful of steel
Wit' a fistful of steel
(And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question)
Ahh shit
And I won't stop 'cause I know the power of the question
And if the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin`
Yeah!
Come on!
A .44 full of bullets
Face full of pale
Eyes full of empty
A stare full of nails
The roulette ball rolls alone on the wheel
A mind full of fire
And a fistful of steel
And if the vibe was suicide
Then you would push da button
But if ya bowin' down
Then let me do the cuttin'
Yeah! Wit' a fistful of steel!
Come on!
Uggh!
Wit' a fistful of steel!
Uggh!
Yeah, silence can have plenty of meanings/notes/spaces/moments and one of them is melody. Sometimes it makes you look inside of yourself, think about life more deeply- sometimes. But, sometimes you need noise - music- to remake it...
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