::15.2.04::
NOTAS RÁPIDAS E EMBRIAGADASTopics of the night:
1- Minha irmã fala:
- O cara aqui do meu lado gritou quando começou a música: " porrada na piranhada!!!!"
2- A outra música começa. Eu digo pra minha irmã:
- Essa música me faz lembrar XXXXXXXX
(cara de cu da minha irmã)
- Ah, é? Porrada na piranhada!!!!!!!!
Fim do capítulo.
3- Tocou Time Warp. Meu vestido veio parar no umbigo. Tudo bem, ninguém viu.
4- Amigo da minha irmã, ou melhor, do namorado dela, que tava sozinho, assim como eu (humm). Botou a mão na minha cintura, apalpou e me ofereceu cerveja. Eu aceitei. Só de sacanagem, e se eu pedisse ele em casamento??? Hahahahahhaha. Such a shame.
5- Toca He-Man na festa. Reminiscências da Ploc 80's. Preciso voltar lá, urgente. A trash da matriz vai me acalmar.
6- No final da noite, I've had the time of my life. Dei tudo de si. Dancei até fazer bico. Meu amigo vai ficar famoso e fazer sucesso e ficar rico. E eu vou ganhar meu Xsara Picasso. YES!
:: Marcia Furriel 4:32 a.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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