::24.4.03::
Só pra fechar o dia, ou melhor, a noite, quero comunicar que estou bem, e apesar de toda essa narrativa cruel e violenta, tudo não passou de uma cara inchadinha hoje de manhã. O trabalho não me dá muito tempo pra pensar nessas coisas ruins, o que é bom. E as novidades aparecem a cada dia, e eu me sinto cada vez melhor! Uma pena que não tenha um kazaa pra melhor ainda mais meu humor. Mas tenho meus amiguinhos...:-)
A letra do dia vai para uma linda descoberta, lá de longe...
It's All Right with Me
It's the wrong time and the wrong place
Though your face is charming it's the wrong face
It's not his face, but such a charming face
That it's all right with me.
It's the wrong song in the wrong style
Though your smile is lovely it's the wrong smile
It's not his smile, but such a lovely smile
That it's all right with me.
Chorus:
You can't know how happy I am that we met
I'm strangely attracted to you
There is someone I'm trying so hard to forget
Don't you want to forget someone to?
Repeat chorus
It's the wrong game, with the wrong chips
Though you lips are tempting they're the wrong lips
They're not his lips but they're such Tempting lips
That if some night you are free
Well it's all right, yes it's all right
Baby don't you know it's all right with me
E que venha o FINAL DE SEMANA!
:: Marcia Furriel 11:51 p.m.
[+] ::
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"...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--"
DO LIVRO
The Subterraneans
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