Is there a Pickpocket Pacifist in Others Realities?

No Math.

No hanging on variable equations.

Just moving up....

In the Rope of Space Transformation, the clothespin of the Positive in Negative balances the clothespin of the Negative in Positive.

"I’m going where the water tastes like wine"

Fechadura Ilegível

Sem começo visível.

Abrupto e clarificando o invisível.

Linhas contraditórias, de línguas não simplificadas ficaram estampadas em paredes de vidas cujas construções esburacaram cidades de pessoas. Penduraram em janelas opacas, perguntas mudas, tecidas por fibras de anseios e desejos, entrelaçados no âmago dos seus sonhos almejados. Percorreram corredores longínquos, nos baldrames de sentimentos cheios de argamassa açucarada por momentos e instantes encaixotados, em papelão de crenças que perderam cismas. Tal como, perderam a memória dos símbolos que desenharam nas respostas. Diluídas em dívidas das dúvidas, emparedaram-se com teias de pedra, esperando ser escritas. Retorno abandonado numa porta que desaparecerá nas linhas contraditórias.

A chave de uma linguagem, um beijo não dado que ficou guardado na caixa de um tempo que mudou.

“That maybe someday is the last time

Yeah maybe someday is the end

Oh maybe someday is when it all stops

Or maybe someday always comes again...”

Music: The String Quartet Tribute To The Cure - Maybe Someday

Decisive Coordinates

One map

Four directions

Keep the Compass beating

Those roads you don’t choose Define you

Music : String Quartet Tribute to New Order & Joy Division - New Dawn Fades

Fluffy attack

A human kid alludes to play,

His cuteness was convincingly Machiavellian.

Teddy never saw anything stuffed with this kind of sweet-cotton like Dreams.

The unknown rules where written in every smile of the new Games.

The happy strategy where designed, in every dust of chalk left in the Black board.

The malignant scissors where hidden behind the kindness of kid’s Eyes.

Teddy tried to grasp any light in the darkness of Kid’s Heart, but all his stuffed love was unstitched by the lines of not so innocent intentions.

Unstuffed Bear was left in the shelf of damaged Toys, waiting for the Master Puppeteer to be resewed in the wool of feelings.

Will he be another fluffy Killer…?

Music : Zbigniew Preisner - The Puppets

Liquid Figurine inside the columns Boxes.

It was a day when night as stopped…

and the awakening was sleeping nested below the demiurgic Waters.

Inside the shadows of pillow Statuettes,

the hurting eyes opened,

to liquid dancers in the reflections

of wrinkled stones.

Their static lives numbered by letters in the draws of Death,

hanged like an obnubilated wardrobe,

that never flows to tissue fluidity.

How many boxes are inside your imagined dance?

Music: I.E.M. - VI

Perpetuation

Square it all?

If every object make a sound...then the Blind can't touch the Waves of the Circle.

Hypnotic Beverage between Translucent Earthlings

“And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication”

(Book of Revelation of St. John the Divine 17:4)

“And if all of the teachers and preachers of wealth were arraigned”

“And if all of the people could claim to inspect such regret”

“Well we'd have no forgiveness forgetfulness faithful remorse”

“We must try to find a new answer instead of a way”

Music : The Doors - Whiskey, Mystics and Men

The Sweeping Dust Man

I the last barrier

am catching wingless chickens in the mutiny of my Aerial Net.

Wake all Pythons in the shores of Cocytus and begin the regular Games!

Everybody is trying to escape trough the Doors of earthly Hell...

“The men don't know

But the little girl understand”

Music : The Doors - Back Door Man

Flaming candour in the Eyes of Dark nights.

Facing the Lights of obscurity in non-knowledge of Lost Souls...

“An ancient lunatic reigns
In the trees of the night”

“Pirate prince at her side”

“Savior of the human race”

Music : The Doors - Wild Child

Old Cauldrons

Walking through a Soup of Fire

“…Speak in secret alphabets

I light another cigarette

Learn to forget, learn to forget.”

Music : The Doors - Soul Kitchen

Jesus in a Cloudy Day

"Just like water."

Music : Tangled Thoughts Of Leaving - Deep Rivers Run Quiet

Trimming rotten nutrition’s of the wooded sky.

"Green dishes disappearing below the Black mouths…

…hoping to find the golden finger’s of their reckless heart.

There’s no wounded value for the Metal Hand’s in their plastic bodies, because fake seeds never grow in trimmed emotions.

Red Ghosts inside a man's Hat

"Appearances of old souls in the middle of music streamings…

...is like catching tunes in wasted gamble cards from the back sleeves of humans.

Summers Hat

For every season there's a Hat...

For every Hat there's a a way of Thinking...

Can we do the Hat Dance?

Music : Bustin Surfboards - The Tornadoes

Sitting over a quiet Noise.

Your diluted footsteps neighboring my Sofa of Silence.

Music : Crooked - Tor Lundvall

Growing Parallelisms

Passing trough parallelepiped humanoids,

I see the growing stains as marked cows.

Diffused axis in the blood of their Woods,

are just like rigid melting’s of skewed realities.

Everybody is neglecting their Surrealistic Blame.

Am I always the Same...?

...no, no I have no Obligation of Parallel Tame!