<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238</id><updated>2012-02-10T12:56:18.544Z</updated><title type='text'>Essays on Idleness</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-1880166200286483803</id><published>2009-01-27T03:44:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-27T03:50:42.704Z</updated><title type='text'>Conseguem ouvir?</title><content type='html'>O silêncio das minha palavras e o vazio dos meus pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;Vinte e quatro horas em cada dia, sem momentos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-1880166200286483803?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/1880166200286483803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=1880166200286483803&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/1880166200286483803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/1880166200286483803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2009/01/conseguem-ouvir.html' title='Conseguem ouvir?'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-3360381416948128500</id><published>2008-11-19T12:37:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-19T12:45:13.952Z</updated><title type='text'>Desafio</title><content type='html'>Não sou muito de responder a chain letters e muito menos de fazer este tipo de posts no meu blog, mas como o desafio foi feito directamente por uma fellow blogger (Pipoca) e sob a ameaça de ficar para sempre impotente caso não respondesse, aqui vão as respostas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Desafio consiste em responder às 10 seguintes perguntas com nomes de músicas de uma só banda)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banda: Pink Floyd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) És homem ou mulher? Bring the Boys Back Home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Descreve-te: A Saucerful of Secrets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) O que as pessoas acham de ti? Shine On You Crazy Diamond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Como descreves o teu último relacionamento: A Momentary Lapse of Reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Descreve o estado actual da tua relação: What Do You Want From Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Onde querias estar agora?  The Great Gig in the Sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) O que pensas a respeito do amor? Is There Anybody Out There?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Como é a tua vida? One in a Million&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) O que pedirias se pudesses ter só um desejo? Learning to Fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Escreve uma frase sábia: Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não vou passar o desafio a mais ninguém pois não tenho online buddies. Eu sei, é triste. Respondam se quiserem nos comments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-3360381416948128500?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/3360381416948128500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=3360381416948128500&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/3360381416948128500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/3360381416948128500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/11/desafio.html' title='Desafio'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-7294706424887536696</id><published>2008-11-11T17:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-11T17:58:46.917Z</updated><title type='text'>Unnamed Rant</title><content type='html'>There’s a scent stenching up the air&lt;br /&gt;Reminiscent of fallen leafs long forgotten in despair&lt;br /&gt;As our branches dropped the weight they could not bare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a tune conducting the way we flow&lt;br /&gt;Mnemonic of a dance we so well used to know&lt;br /&gt;Apathically we stand on the doubt on to lead or to be lead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s an unknown color painting our worlds&lt;br /&gt;Its light shedding warmth on our own very souls&lt;br /&gt;There’s more to black and white when you dwell yourself in grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a path opening ahead trying to show us the way&lt;br /&gt;Paving our next move as if  on the subject we have nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;Blindly we wander it but always looking into the path sideways&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a shiver within, harsher than the shivering cold&lt;br /&gt;Shaking our own primal existence, defying us to be bold&lt;br /&gt;Indulge the freezing water for the fiery sun is only three strokes away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-7294706424887536696?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/7294706424887536696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=7294706424887536696&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7294706424887536696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7294706424887536696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/11/unnamed-rant.html' title='Unnamed Rant'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-7275957954332144400</id><published>2008-11-11T15:14:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T02:56:26.819Z</updated><title type='text'>Primeira Página</title><content type='html'>“Não gostas de mim, nunca gostaste. Pior, tu não gostas de ti próprio e por isso mesmo duvido que gostes sequer de alguém. Não sabes, nem queres, ser feliz, apesar de insistires que é tudo por quanto anseias. Assim que a felicidade ameaça, retrais. Foges e isolas-te no teu buraco escuro ao qual chamas casa apesar de todos saberem, e ninguém melhor do que tu, que não passa de um beco sem saída onde te afogarás em lágrimas e no qual conviverás só e apenas com os teus próprios demónios.” Ela vira costas fazendo os seus cabelos escuros, que tantas vezes fiz passarem pelos meus dedos, esvoaçarem agressivamente na minha direcção como se de uma fria estalada se tratasse, e parte em direcção ao esquecimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderia tomar estas palavras como um ataque insensível de alguém a quem roubaram o, e não um, sonho. A quem mais nada sobrou senão o poder acutilante da vingança no seu estado mais selvagem: as palavras. Mas não as tomo como um ataque. Estou demasiado ocupado a pensar que já ninguém fala assim, tão eloquentemente, senão em livros. Além disso, ela está muito perto de ser a senhora da razão e o meu silêncio é, assustadoramente, comprometedor.&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto dou por mim a absorver tudo o que foi dito e a analisar mais um relação que eu, tão profissionalmente destruí, noto uma ligeira pausa na sua marcha apressada. Os seus movimentos são agora visivelmente reflectidos e menos guiados pela emoção. Está, obviamente, a pensar nas últimas palavras que (pensa ela) me dirigirá, pois a última palavra é a única arma que resta a um orgulho ferido por um coração partido. Antecipo-as, como tantas outras vezes antecipei o que lhe ia na alma. Eterna maldição dos frios e calculistas.&lt;br /&gt;Por fim parece ter o discurso pronto e bem afiado.  Interrompe a marcha imperial e eu ponho-me a jeito dando-lhe toda a atenção e pondo o ar culpado mais inocente que consigo. Dá meia volta e diz ininterruptamente, sem oscilações na voz: “Espero que sejam muito felizes, tu e eles, porque ninguém mais neste mundo vos há-de aturar”.  Previsível, mas não dói menos por isso.&lt;br /&gt;Volta a dar meia volta e faz o seu corpo moreno dançar dentro do seu vestido, calculadamente largo, deixando-me com as memórias das curvas e formas que durante tanto tempo me deixaram embriagado, as formas que o vestido largo esconde, deixando os outros, insistentemente, a adivinhar, enquanto acelera novamente o passo e sai de cena.&lt;br /&gt;A pálpebra do meu olho direito treme continuamente. Sorrio, não com o meu habitual sorriso desafiador e ligeiramente aberto, mas antes um sorriso cínico que esconde uma lágrima. Pois a minha pálpebra não treme sozinha, toda a minha existência treme com ela, fruto de mais uma enorme desilusão da qual o único culpado é o mesmo filho da puta de sempre. Eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penso por breves instantes na minha primeira amante, uma mulher descomplexada, experiente, com uma beleza bem acima do meu potencial e um bolso que parecia não ter fundo às vontades de um puto de dezasseis anos. Por mero acaso, vim a descobrir que era amiga da minha mãe mas essa história fica para depois, mais para a frente. Pensei no conselho que ela me deu na altura: “Se queres mesmo ser feliz, não sejas de uma mas de todas e dá-lhes o amor que me dás agora. Eu conheço-te e és igual a mim, nunca serás verdadeiramente de ninguém. Somos demasiadamente apaixonados por nós próprios. Se fores contra a tua própria natureza espera-te uma vida de sofrimento e incompreensão, perguntas sem resposta, caminhos sem saída. Dá o amor que sabes e não o que fantasias”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na altura ri-me, ainda novo demais para perceber que todas as verdades que preciso e viria a precisar me foram ditas pelas mulheres da minha cama (dizer da minha vida seria uma terrível ampliação de uma realidade, já por si, distorcida). Na altura ri-me, sim, e limitei-me a dar-lhe a única coisa que mais tarde vim a perceber, à custa de frases horríveis,  tão verdadeiras, que me foram atiradas em tom de vingança e destruição, ser a única que tenho para oferecer a uma mulher: prazer sem compromisso. Por todas menos uma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sento-me na rede, tentando ainda perceber tudo o que se acabou de passar e sobre tudo o que já se passou. Deixo descair o meu corpo, lentamente, até este tomar as formas do pano imundo e coçado pelo tempo, deixando então que este me envolva plenamente no seu morno e familiar abraço. Pego na minha fiel companheira, uma pequena caixa de madeira oriunda de Marrocos e entregue pelas mãos dela, da única. Abro a caixa e deixo os meus sentidos serem absorvidos pelos aromas das montanhas do Atlas, das florestas Canadianas, do calor húmido das Caraíbas, da chuva gélida de Amsterdam que disfarça o odor do sangue derramado no Afeganistão. Fabrico, habilmente (ou não fosse muita a experiência) um poço de esquecimento. Dou-lhe luz e deixo-me ser guiado pelo nevoeiro que entretanto desceu sobre mim, imaginando que a cada inspiração e expiração dou um impulso em direcção ao limbo, para um espaço intemporal e de fantasia onde os meus pensamentos voam livres de censura.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-7275957954332144400?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/7275957954332144400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=7275957954332144400&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7275957954332144400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7275957954332144400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/11/primeira-pgina.html' title='Primeira Página'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-427473038008252559</id><published>2008-09-17T11:31:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T17:48:21.291Z</updated><title type='text'>People Always Leave</title><content type='html'>Why do people always leave&lt;br /&gt;Do they ever look back&lt;br /&gt;Their gift is disbelief&lt;br /&gt;and a route just off the track&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people always leave&lt;br /&gt;Most never even come back&lt;br /&gt;What's left is some wicked sense of grief&lt;br /&gt;In a sky perfectly pitch black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes to the endless rewind&lt;br /&gt;In your dreams they'll never kiss you goodbye&lt;br /&gt;For you can never unwind, can't ever have peace of mind&lt;br /&gt;No matter how fast you run or how well you hide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can hold on to the light&lt;br /&gt;Gather all you can harness&lt;br /&gt;but once the lights are out&lt;br /&gt;It's really all the same darkness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always leave&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just drive them away&lt;br /&gt;So I toast to the fallen and deceased&lt;br /&gt;Void of thoughts and wity words to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm sorry I drove you away...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-427473038008252559?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/427473038008252559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=427473038008252559&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/427473038008252559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/427473038008252559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/09/people-always-leave.html' title='People Always Leave'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-7016821134962554761</id><published>2008-09-03T15:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T17:48:58.033+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Razão da Alma</title><content type='html'>Tantas palavras poder-te-ia eu escrever&lt;br /&gt;Usar e abusar de imagens e metáforas&lt;br /&gt;Uma míriade de paisagens e palavras caras&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isso para te dizer que tenho de te ter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dissecar e dissertar sobre os sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Sobre medos que me assolam e arrebatem&lt;br /&gt;Teus olhos escuros que me isolam e atraem&lt;br /&gt;Tudo para dizer que te quero a todos os momentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falar de futuros próximos e presentes tão longínquos&lt;br /&gt;De promessas e juras eternas, ridículas e efemeras&lt;br /&gt;Etéreis como o alcool ainda quem me embriaguem, deveras&lt;br /&gt;Tudo para te dizer que és dona e senhora do meu umbigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda assim nessas mesmas palavras me acabei por perder&lt;br /&gt;Traído e usado por esta obscura alma de escritor maldito&lt;br /&gt;Às voltas com tudo o que sinto e tenho dito&lt;br /&gt;Com tudo o que não disse e teimo em não querer dizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras intensas, segundo a minuto&lt;br /&gt;Num espaço sideral, num tempo resoluto&lt;br /&gt;Um sentimento absoluto, sem explicação&lt;br /&gt;Entendo-me pela alma onde me falta a razão&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-7016821134962554761?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/7016821134962554761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=7016821134962554761&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7016821134962554761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/7016821134962554761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/09/razo-da-alma.html' title='A Razão da Alma'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-6179801648574153533</id><published>2008-05-05T17:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T00:19:14.061+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Pills for Thrills</title><content type='html'>Sleep pills for thrills, if I can’t sleep I might as well hallucinate&lt;br /&gt;Bills for pills, it kills, but day dreaming is something I appreciate&lt;br /&gt;Head spinnin’ like windmills trying to relate to my dubious trait&lt;br /&gt;Blink and bake, now I’m ready to debate&lt;br /&gt;With my only mate whatever it was I dreamt awake&lt;br /&gt;They say I’ll lose my mind if I keep playin’ with my subconcious&lt;br /&gt;I’m conscious of the inconsciousness still I’m not very cautious&lt;br /&gt;Coz the mind’s already lost and the visions are atrocious&lt;br /&gt;Abnoxious, I walk but I can’t feel a fucking thing&lt;br /&gt;Put it down in words, maybe they’ll mean something, anything&lt;br /&gt;Gotta find a way, stop messing with my brain&lt;br /&gt;It’s like a thunder storm around me but there is no fucking rain&lt;br /&gt;To relieve the storm’s tension, to appease the lightnings driving me insane&lt;br /&gt;Shut out to the world, lock myself up while closing the lids of my window pane&lt;br /&gt;For the light is now unwelcome, I tolerate myself better in the dark&lt;br /&gt;A lonely, life-craving persona, forever carrying a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;The one you carried and nurtured, only to break, abuse and rip apart&lt;br /&gt;It’s so late I have doubts if I’m asleep or if I’m awake&lt;br /&gt;As I scar these words deep inside my head in dire need of a clean slate&lt;br /&gt;There’s a shiver, it slowly ravages to a full-on quake&lt;br /&gt;The pressure in my soul’s just about to alleviate&lt;br /&gt;I smile faintly, knowing it’ll be back tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;For another day carrying myself in the shoulders of my own sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Now I’ll sleep and deal with all this shit in the morrow&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes wishing tomorrow’s would never see the light of day&lt;br /&gt;But they keep on coming, so come as they may&lt;br /&gt;I’ll still be here, raging and writing, ‘til there’s nothing left to say&lt;br /&gt;As if I ever say anything worthy, my life is more like the sketch of a book&lt;br /&gt;Lost words, loose thoughts of what I gave but mostly took&lt;br /&gt;It’s up for grabs but evidently no one dares to take a look&lt;br /&gt;We’re sorry chief, we cut you off, you’re out of the band&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’m stubborn, maybe I do need a helping hand&lt;br /&gt;As much as I push you, I do need you as friend&lt;br /&gt;But I guess it’s all good&lt;br /&gt;Being the outcast has always been my trend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-6179801648574153533?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/6179801648574153533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=6179801648574153533&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/6179801648574153533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/6179801648574153533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/05/sleep-pills-for-thrills.html' title='Sleep Pills for Thrills'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-5328984696200977095</id><published>2008-05-05T16:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T16:52:16.754+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Faking</title><content type='html'>A shiver second to a tremor&lt;br /&gt;Consciousness hardly makes it any better&lt;br /&gt;You swing, dash and you swerve&lt;br /&gt;Desperately fighting, rejecting the herd&lt;br /&gt;Stained sheets still reap what you deserve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Split second to refractory change&lt;br /&gt;No receipt for what it is you want to exchange&lt;br /&gt;You scream, rebel and try to file a complaint&lt;br /&gt;In search of something you can never really obtain&lt;br /&gt;Battering day-to-day, walking dry under the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why are you faking&lt;br /&gt;As if you really didn’t know it&lt;br /&gt;Why are you hiding&lt;br /&gt;And do you wanna talk about it&lt;br /&gt;Why are you smothering&lt;br /&gt;When you really should be breathing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light after day after dark comes the night&lt;br /&gt;You skip it and trick it, you just stay out of sight&lt;br /&gt;But it’s bound to come knocking down your door&lt;br /&gt;Head struck off-guard and down on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Hardly ever what you were hoping for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving unnoticed, flyin’ under the radar&lt;br /&gt;As if under the beacon you’ll find your saviour&lt;br /&gt;Running and running out of places to go&lt;br /&gt;Being like everybody else when you know it ain’t so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why are you faking&lt;br /&gt;As if you really didn’t know it&lt;br /&gt;Why are you hiding&lt;br /&gt;And do you wanna talk about it&lt;br /&gt;Why are you smothering&lt;br /&gt;When you really should be breathing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Split second to refractory change&lt;br /&gt;No receipt for what it is you want to exchange&lt;br /&gt;You scream, rebel and try to file a complaint&lt;br /&gt;In search of something you can never really obtain&lt;br /&gt;Battering day-to-day, walking dry under the rain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-5328984696200977095?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/5328984696200977095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=5328984696200977095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/5328984696200977095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/5328984696200977095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/05/faking.html' title='Faking'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-4718991898324157470</id><published>2008-04-29T12:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T00:17:53.235+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Drifting Through Broken Glass</title><content type='html'>Staring at the mirror on the wall&lt;br /&gt;There’s no reflection at all&lt;br /&gt;Looking up laying down on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Can’t remember ever feeling like this before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phone screen filled with unanswered calls&lt;br /&gt;Don’t believe a word she says when she talks&lt;br /&gt;Unwritten letters spread all over the stand&lt;br /&gt;Full of empty words forever left unsaid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the seasons shifting by&lt;br /&gt;From the different colors that paint the sky&lt;br /&gt;Everything’s in motion but me&lt;br /&gt;‘Coz the past is all  I can see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drifting through broken glass&lt;br /&gt;Smoking my thoughts away&lt;br /&gt;Chasing a fake laugh&lt;br /&gt;That will keep the others at bay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the dreams I´ve been dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Like a sow without the reaping&lt;br /&gt;They’re the dreams I’ll never believe in&lt;br /&gt;As I wake up all alone&lt;br /&gt;Craving the things I’ve always longed for&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I could just belong more&lt;br /&gt;Step inside and rush right in&lt;br /&gt;Welcome home reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the seasons shifting by&lt;br /&gt;From the different colors that paint the sky&lt;br /&gt;Everything’s in motion but me&lt;br /&gt;‘Coz the past is all  I can breathe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drifting through broken glass&lt;br /&gt;Smoking my thoughts away&lt;br /&gt;Chasing a fake laugh&lt;br /&gt;That will keep the others at bay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so afraid ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-4718991898324157470?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/4718991898324157470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=4718991898324157470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4718991898324157470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4718991898324157470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/04/drifting-through-broken-glass.html' title='Drifting Through Broken Glass'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-4801636603808954556</id><published>2008-04-23T11:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:04:03.271+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mask</title><content type='html'>You can play the part and wear the mask&lt;br /&gt;Be another circus monkey performing the expected task&lt;br /&gt;The price is at hand, your life is all they ask&lt;br /&gt;When finally you realize your dream is an illusion,&lt;br /&gt;Hidden behind a desk&lt;br /&gt;If you can remember it for so long have you been hypnotized&lt;br /&gt;All your opinions, ideas and laughter&lt;br /&gt;Criticized&lt;br /&gt;All your thoughts, dreams and expectations&lt;br /&gt;Vandalized&lt;br /&gt;It's an honest attempt,&lt;br /&gt;Of that you shouldn't be ashamed&lt;br /&gt;'Coz even if it's your own fault,&lt;br /&gt;Society's to be blamed&lt;br /&gt;For all the unwritten rules&lt;br /&gt;You will, and have, sustained&lt;br /&gt;Break through, run free,&lt;br /&gt;Your life will never be the same&lt;br /&gt;Or are you just another wild beast&lt;br /&gt;Waiting to be tamed&lt;br /&gt;But wouldn't that really be in vain&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it ultimately drive you insane&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that all you live, feel and breathe&lt;br /&gt;Is a lie&lt;br /&gt;That you never knew differently&lt;br /&gt;´Til the day you eventually die&lt;br /&gt;Realizing that never once have you lived&lt;br /&gt;You were just here passing by&lt;br /&gt;And never really enjoyed the ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-4801636603808954556?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/4801636603808954556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=4801636603808954556&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4801636603808954556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4801636603808954556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/04/mask.html' title='The Mask'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-4237721174660600631</id><published>2008-03-19T14:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-19T14:49:47.799Z</updated><title type='text'>Chillum Dreams</title><content type='html'>Are you friend or are you foe&lt;br /&gt;Ghost from the past who won’t leave me alone&lt;br /&gt;I’m lost, senseless, got nowhere to roam&lt;br /&gt;So many faults, too many mistakes, one day too must I grow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart and soul I no longer own&lt;br /&gt;Trusted them to the one I loved and used to know&lt;br /&gt;Now I drag myself through life but I feel much too empty&lt;br /&gt;Found out the hard way that of such gift and trust you weren’t worthy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting and striving, wanting to be known&lt;br /&gt;Yet no one will ever have an image of you quite like my own&lt;br /&gt;See, to me you were already shining brightly to eternity&lt;br /&gt;Blinded by love I failed to see that we were never meant to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon another battle I will have to fight&lt;br /&gt;So happy, so scared to read your message tonight&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired, stoned, I think of you and I can’t sleep&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I curse this feeling for being so deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Already too late, I’ve made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I will love you forever but tonight I kiss you goodbye&lt;br /&gt;You stole my heart and soul and that I can never forgive&lt;br /&gt;Heartless and soulless...You’ve left me with nothing to give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chillum dreams and twisted vibes&lt;br /&gt;Never could read in between the lines&lt;br /&gt;Best if you focus on plain black and white&lt;br /&gt;I too would live in ignorance,&lt;br /&gt;And forever forget you sight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-4237721174660600631?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/4237721174660600631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=4237721174660600631&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4237721174660600631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/4237721174660600631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/03/chillum-dreams.html' title='Chillum Dreams'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804094907882876238.post-313887760074479209</id><published>2008-03-11T16:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:55:55.361Z</updated><title type='text'>Cold Town</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; This is the cold part of town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where devils are bold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And soul lovers frown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is the dark side of the city&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where dogs dare not bark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And hope dwells in self pity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is the place where all the wretched go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where passengers go out on a blaze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;But always say it ain’t so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;No, this is not you, this is not your scene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;But all of this is new and vaguely obscene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Look at all the colors, look at all the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Look how they swallow you, so shalllow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Forever out of sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Follow the light, swallow the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Nothing will ever shine so bright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;So they’ll say and so you’ll hear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;‘Til one day you watch it all disappear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;For the light was an illusion, reality is black&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The darkness consumed everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And you will never have it back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;But this is not you, this is not your scene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;and all of this is new and vaguely obscene&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Look at all the colors, look at all the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Look how they swallow you, so shalllow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Forever out of sight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Follow the light, swallow the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Nothing will ever shine so bright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where’s the light? Fading, it’s fading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;You’re caught between racing and pacing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;You sway, but all you ever say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Is somebody’s always getting in your way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Somebody’s always getting in your way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is the cold part of town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where devils are bold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And soul lovers frown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is the dark side of the city&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where dogs dare not bark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And hope dwells in self pity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is the place where all the wretched go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where passengers go out on a blaze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;But always say it ain’t so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;This is your home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where you’re always surrounded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; Feeling alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804094907882876238-313887760074479209?l=essaysonidleness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/feeds/313887760074479209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804094907882876238&amp;postID=313887760074479209&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/313887760074479209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804094907882876238/posts/default/313887760074479209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://essaysonidleness.blogspot.com/2008/03/cold-town.html' title='Cold Town'/><author><name>Essays on Idleness</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15104690577290722739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_crAhJAp70zY/SSHACVZSg7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/st0LUHracYY/S220/n668641093_858342_2302.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
