terça-feira, 14 de fevereiro de 2012
quinta-feira, 9 de fevereiro de 2012
terça-feira, 7 de fevereiro de 2012
Describe Your Life In Seven Minutes Or Less
When Salander went to bed on her seventh night in Hedeby, she was mildly irritated with Blomkvist. For almost a week she had spent practically every waking minute with him.
Normally seven minutes of another person’s company was enough to give her a headache, so she set things up to live as a recluse.
She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding; she had to protect herself from social authorities, child welfare authorities, guardianship authorities, tax authorities, police, curators, psychologists, psychiatrists, teachers, and bouncers, who (apart from the guys watching the door at Kvarnen, who by this time knew who she was) would never let her into the bar even though she was twenty-five. There was a whole army of people who seemed not to have anything better to do than to try to disrupt her life, and, if they were given the opportunity, to correct the way she had chosen to live it.
It did no good to cry, she had learned that early on. She had also learned that every time she tried to make someone aware of something in her life, the situation just got worse.Normally seven minutes of another person’s company was enough to give her a headache, so she set things up to live as a recluse.
She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding; she had to protect herself from social authorities, child welfare authorities, guardianship authorities, tax authorities, police, curators, psychologists, psychiatrists, teachers, and bouncers, who (apart from the guys watching the door at Kvarnen, who by this time knew who she was) would never let her into the bar even though she was twenty-five. There was a whole army of people who seemed not to have anything better to do than to try to disrupt her life, and, if they were given the opportunity, to correct the way she had chosen to live it.
Consequently it was up to her to solve her problems by herself, using whatever methods she deemed necessary.
Something that Advokat Bjurman had found out the hard way.
Blomkvist had the same tiresome habit as everyone else, poking around in her life and asking questions. On the other hand, he did not react at all like most other men she had met.
When she ignored his questions he simply shrugged and left her in peace.
Astounding.
Her immediate move, when she got hold of his iBook that first morning, had naturally been to transfer all the information to her own computer. That way it was OK if he dumped her from the case; she would still have access to the material.
She had expected a furious outburst when he appeared for his breakfast.
Instead he had looked almost resigned, muttered something sarcastic, and gone off to the shower.
Then he began discussing what she had read. A strange guy.
She might even be deluded into thinking that he trusted her.
"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"
Stieg Larsson
Stieg Larsson
domingo, 5 de fevereiro de 2012
Tabacaria
(...)
Fiz de mim o que não soube,
E o que podia fazer de mim não o fiz.
0 dominó que vesti era errado.
Conheceram-me logo por quem não era e não desmenti, e perdi-me.
Quando quis tirar a máscara,
Estava pegada à cara.
Quando a tirei e me vi ao espelho,
Já tinha envelhecido.
Estava bêbado, já não sabia vestir o dominó que não tinha tirado.
Deitei fora a máscara e dormi no vestiário
Como um cão tolerado pela gerência
Por ser inofensivo
E vou escrever esta história para provar que sou sublime.
(...)
Álvaro de Campos
sábado, 4 de fevereiro de 2012
Ó Meu Amor! Ó Meu Damasco, Ó Minha Seda.
Ó meu amor! ó meu damasco, ó minha seda,
Ó meu guizo de prata,
Meu colar de pérolas deixado em cima da cómoda,
Minha aliança de ouro em dedos já velhinhos e fieis,
Minha cantiga de raparigas ao poente,
Ó meu fumo de cigarro, tão inútil e tão necessário,
Minha Bíblia para as crianças brincarem,
Minha amante que eu queria trazer ao colo como uma filha...
Olha, tenho as mãos em febre...
Tenho a testa a escaldar, tenho os olhos muito estranhos...
Todos olham para o brilho dos meus olhos e espetam-se neles...
Eu tenho febre e tenho sede e lembro-me de ti por causa disso
Porque se eu te tivesse como te quereria ter
(Não sei se é de um modo físico, ou de um modo psíquico)
Eu não teria nem febre, nem sede, nem a testa a arder,
Nem os olhos secos, muito secos, sob a fronte...
Tu não sabes o que tem sido a minha vida!...
Tu não sabes que martírio tem sido o meu...
Se tu soubesses o que é amar as coisas simples e calmas
E não ter jeito para procurar senão as outras coisas!
Se tu soubesses porque é que quando eu estou na minha quinta de dia
Tenho saudades dela como se não estivesse lá...
Se tu soubesses o que eu sinto à noite, nos hotéis, pelas ruas,
Se tu soubesses! Mas eu próprio não sei o que é que sinto...
Minha lantejoula, minha casa de bonecas,
Ó meus brinquedos da minha infância atados com cordéis!
Ó meu regimento que passa com a banda à frente,
Minha noite no circo, nos cavalinhos, a rir dos palhaços...
Álvaro de Campos
Subscrever:
Mensagens (Atom)