My World

Há algo que me transporta para um lugar na minha cabeça onde eu não quero estar. Aquele lugar onde reside um lado de mim que eu não quero ver. Julgava-o morto, mas ele está mais vivo e mais forte que nunca, e apodera-se cada vez mais do meu corpo a cada dia que passa. Deixo-me descontrolar, liberto o frenesim que há dentro de mim. Faço o que quero fazer, digo o que quero dizer. Destruo o mundo dos outros, pedaço por pedaço, e tranco-me dentro do meu. Sei que aqui estou em segurança. Sozinho, num lugar escuro e frio, mas seguro, porque aqui não consigo ser encontrado por ninguém. Insanidade temporária. Destruo o meu mundo, também. Vejo-o a despedaçar-se num terramoto, a arder num incêndio e a afundar-se num dilúvio. E eu afundo-me com ele. Fecho os olhos e deixo-me levar cada vez mais para baixo deste buraco infinito. Não existe uma luz que me ilumine. À medida que desço cada vez mais, sinto a morte cada vez mais iminente e a salvação cada vez mais distante. Apetece-me rir, mas chorar ao mesmo tempo. Se houvesse mais mundo, eu destrui-lo-ia. De repente, sinto algo a descer, por cima de mim. Abro os meus olhos, que ardem de dor. Vejo a forma de uma pessoa que se aproxima cada vez mais. Tento forçar o meu corpo a descer mais depressa. Sinto um toque e vejo-me a subir, enquanto o meu mundo desce. Chego à superfície, o céu está azul, não há uma única nuvem no céu. Olho para a frente e vejo uma rapariga. Cabelos compridos, olhos castanhos, um sorriso que me deixa atordoado. Ela salvou-me. Mas porquê? Enquanto olho para ela, o meu mundo desaparece no vazio, e eu não me importo. Ela levou-me para o mundo dela e é lá que quero ficar. Para sempre. 13.

The World is Yours

Respira fundo. Observa o mais pequeno pormenor com atenção e contempla a beleza que este mundo tem para te oferecer. Grita, corre, sorri. Faz o que nunca fizeste, diverte-te como nunca te divertiste. Desliga-te do resto do mundo, porque nesta estrada interminável, só interessa o que se passa nela. Livra-te de todas as tuas preocupações e problemas. Deixa as coisas acontecerem naturalmente, não tentes evitar nada. Relaxa, fecha os olhos, sente o sol a bater na tua cara. Limita-te a apreciar esta viagem. O mundo é teu, e só teu. Compraste um bilhete só de ida. O destino: paz.

Dedicado à Clara e a Neusa, porque para nós, o mundo não é suficientemente grande.

I.N.S.O.M.N.I.A - the mind is a terrible thing to taste...

C'mon, man! Let me fucking sleep! Yes, I'm finding myself in the same situation. I'm gonna die in a few hours. It's thursday, you know? It's the worst day of the week. After a day like thursday, all you want to do is kill yourself. Nah, I'm kidding, but it's something close to that. I'm glad I got you to brighten up my day! I'm sorry you have to read this kind of wierd shit again, but it's the middle of the night and I've got nothing to do. I should take some pills or something, this is getting really annoying!

Long nights, long days. They go by and I'm constantly half-asleep. I'm sedated. I wasn't always like this. I used to have good nights, I used to sleep. Now I just... wait. I wait for the daylight to come. No matter how I try to distract myself, nights like these go on so slowly. That's why I'm writing this. I'm slowly becoming a modern-day vampire. The difference is i'm not a complete fucking faggot, unlike those Twilight wannabes. Some Twilight teen addicts are gonna try to kill me for saying this, but fuck it. Fuck them! At least they sleep at night...!

Adjust your seatbelt, take a deep breath and close your eyes, because I'm still thinking of taking you to Polaris. I think it's always the middle of the night up there, it would be the only place where I could actually spend one entire night sleeping. I should stop thinking about crazy shit and start worrying about tomorrow. Even after the day we're gonna endure, I don't think I'm gonna sleep tomorrow night. The difference is I already know it, it's so much easier to prepare the program! I wish you were here with me. But our time will come and I know exactly when it's going to be.

Raise your hand if you have miserable nights. I'm raising mine right now. It's stupid, considering I'm alone in my bedroom, staring at my computer. If I'm being watched, those fuckers are having a laugh on me. That means they owe me a beer. Or a sleeping pill. That would be nice, after nights spent laughing at my expense. I could go to bed and try to sleep, but that would be just a waste of my fucking time, because I would not be able to do it. It's better to stay here and write stupid shit. I'm still wasting my time, but I'm wasting yours too. At least I know I'm not alone in this mindfucking trip.

After wasting my time (and yours, as I said) writing my second note of the week, I'm starting to get hungry. I feel like trashing one of those 24/7 stores and stealing all their food. My mom would be happy if I suddently came home with bags and bags (and bags!) of food. Cookies, fries, that kind of shit. Shit that gets you fat. I really like that kind of food! As I think about it, the thought that maybe stealing food isn't a good idea is starting to penetrate into this thick skull of mine. I think I'm gonna assault my kitchen and eat everything that satisfies my hunger. Did you notice that the first letter of each paragraph is a letter of your name? Yeah, it's on purpose. How couldn't it be? Well, I think I'm gonna leave you alone. In case you're concerned, it's 5 a.m. Love you <3

I.N.S.O.M.N.I.A - A letter to a special someone...

I can't sleep, for the third night in a row. I've watched all the same old movies over and over again. Listened to the same old albums, over and over again! I feel like I'm a mile away from the whole world. Time passes in front of my eyes and it laughs. Fuck you, man! Shit, I'm not stressed, I feel great! My life, in general, is great! At least it has been for the last three weeks. Everything that happens to me seems part of a constant dream. I'm daydreaming, constantly. I'm living a fucking dream and think that's good! Is it? Well, this has nothing to do with my difficulties to get some fucking sleep, I know. But the contents of this note have nothing to do with... anything. I'm just bored and unable to rest.

Now that you know that this whole note is just a pile of monkey crap, I want to talk a little more about stuff. Did I mention I'm bored? Yeah, I think I did. Forget it. My dream is to take your hand (yeah, YOUR hand!) and just leave. If you're really interested in what I'm saying, you're wondering where would we go. Probably you're not interested and you're not wondering where would we go, but I'll tell you, anyway: Polaris. Yes, my favourite destination is about 430 light-years away from our planet. Still, I think we would have fun. I can imagine all the postcards! "Hi mom, I'm having a great time here, Polaris is really great, it has nice beaches and the people are great! Did I tell you they only drink tequilla? How're things down there?". Fucking Polaris, man!

So, are you still wasting your time reading this? Great, then! Love it! Let me tell you a little bit about myself: i'm bored and I can't sleep, for the third night in a row. I think I already told you that, let's move on! Do you wanna know what I'm doing? No? I'm checking the weather for this morning. It's going to rain again. I don't like umbrellas. What used do they have when you have a kick-ass Slayer hoodie? In fact, I'm not going to use my Slayer hoodie this morning, you told me it needs a wash... It really does. I should think about it, but not right now. I don't need that kind of thoughts breaking through my creative juice. I think I'm gonna wear the Motörhead hoodie, it's kick-ass too!

Once upon a time, there was this kid. He was bored and he couldn't sleep. Oh, I've already told you that one, don't wanna do it again. I don't like repeating myself at all, it gets annoying, at one point. Do you know what's also annoying? If I said "Justin Bieber", it would be too obvious, so... I think I'm gonna be obvious. Justin Bieber's fucking annoying. I don't support death penalty in most cases, but when we're talking about Justin Bieber, I think I would make an exception. I think we should riot against abominations like that guy. Instead of trying to kill Barack Obama, those CIA psycho boys could try to kill Bieber. All I ask is one try, c'mon! Slaughter that no-good motherfucker!

Maybe you should stop reading this. But maybe I don't want you to stop reading this. Who knows? Who cares? I was gonna tell you I'm bored but you already know that. My room is surrounded by a mist. It doesn't bother me, it won't until I can't see anything. In fact, I like it. It gives my bedroom a mystifying look. One think I miss is my lamp. I miss it's light, although I also enjoy the darkness. Sometimes I step on some shit, I fall and I look like a jerk. I think I really need some light in here. Even during the day, I feel like it's the middle of the night in here. It's wierd, but I like it! I like the darkness, my heavy metal pictures on the wall, my broken glass, my computer, my ultra-powerful speakers, the organized mess. I like to think my bedroom has supernatural powers. And I'm starting to think it's true!

No, I can't believe it. You survived! But how long can you take? If you got here, I can consider myself one lucky bastard! I'm almost over, I believed. But I'm still bored and I still can't sleep. Do you know what time it is? I don't either. I'll see when I'm done writing this piece of shit. I'm listening to the new Motörhead album, it's decent! Their last show was complete rubbish, they played a few of those classic hits, but the sound itself was shitty. Oh, and I got my ass-kicked at the previous concert, Soulfly! A bleeding nose and moshing in a show full of sound issues don't mix, I'm telling you. You probably couldn't give two shits about this, I mean, it's just me talking nonsense. But, shit, I'm fucking bor... Ah, you know it, I'll save my speech!

I really should get to sleep, I'm supposed to get up soon, it's only a matter of time. But you know I can't get some fucking sleep, don't you? And you also know that I'm extremely bored, that's why I'm writing this. For some reason, you're the only thing that comes to my mind tonight. I think you realized I'm writing to you, even though you're sleeping like the angel you are. I don't want to text you, you could wake up and then I would be mindfucked for the rest of the week. Ah, shit, I'm surprised you're even reading this, I'd give up on the first paragraph. This is probably the worst thing ever written, and I swear, I'm not doing it on purpose. Now I wanna see the sunrise for the third time in a row.

After you get through all this shit, you will realize it was not worth it. I know it, you know it. But I'm just so bored... I keep forgetting you already know it. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, it's certainly not my intention, really! This is almost over, I swear. The words are starting to run away from me, i'm using them with a shit purpose. They don't deserve to be used like this. And you don't deserve having to read this. But if you already got here, don't stop now. It's the end of the line. I just can't think, and that means I can't write. Finally, you're getting rid of this nightmare. I shall now end this note, it's just too fucking long. What time is it? Oh, almost 4 a.m. Fuck it, I'm gonna do something else. Thank you for reading this. I love you! <3

Tic Tac

"Frantic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tic-tac"

Deitado na minha cama, atiro uma pequena bola vermelha contra a parede, enquanto me deixo cair na preguiça. Os meus olhos semi-cerrados já não conseguem ver bem, a minha mente não está no presente. Apenas consigo pensar no dia seguinte. A única coisa que consigo ouvir, além do barulho da bola a bater na parede e a voltar para as minhas mãos, é o ponteiro do relógio. Ele move-se num passo lento e pesado, parece que quer gozar comigo. Se estivesse disposto a ouvir com mais atenção, possivelmente conseguiria escutá-lo a rir-se de mim. Mais uma vez interrompo o que estou a fazer para fumar um cigarro. A cinza queima vagarosamente, tal como o tempo. O fumo sobe para o tecto do meu quarto, dando mais forma à nuvem cinzenta que observo. Nos recantos dessa mesma nuvem, consigo observar o futuro. Imagino-o, cada vez com mais ansiedade. Vejo-me na praia, debaixo de chuva pesada. Estou acompanhado por uma pessoa, a única com quem eu quero partilhar esse momento. Curiosamente, à medida que os meus olhos se fecham, as imagens acentuam-se e enchem-se de detalhes. O meu quarto desaparece, assim como o cigarro que segurava há momentos. O sentimento de solidão que sentia desaparece. De repente, sinto-me bem, com os pés na areia e com a chuva a bater nas minhas costas. Nada existe, a não ser eu, a pessoa com quem me imaginava e aquela praia. Sinto a sua mão, cada beijo que damos. Não sei a minha localização exacta e, para ser franco, nem quero saber. Só me importa o que estou a viver, não quero que este momento acabe. O que é isto? O vento que batia dá lugar a um calor infernal, o que estou a viver fica, de repente, envolvido numa chama, como uma fotografia a ser queimada. Sinto o momento a escapar, mas agarro-me a ele com todas as forças, até as perder. Vejo tudo afastar-se, até só conseguir ver preto. Sinto a barriga a arder. Abro os olhos. Estou de volta ao meu quarto, coberto por fumo. O cigarro que segurava já não se encontra na minha mão, mas sim a queimar a camisola que tinha vestida. Rapidamente pego nele e afasto as cinzas. Foi tudo um sonho, afinal de contas. Olho para o relógio, passaram-se dois minutos. Mas agora não consigo dormir mais. Pego, de novo, na bola vermelha e atiro-a contra a parede, vezes e vezes sem conta. Desta vez consigo ouvir os risos de gozo, cada vez mais altos. E cada vez anseio mais o dia de amanhã.

Rotina

13

Mais uma vez acordo, ao som do mesmo despertador de sempre. Abro lentamente os olhos, ofuscado pela falsa claridade de uma manhã nublada. Acendo o habitual primeiro cigarro do dia. Penso no que tenho de fazer hoje... vai ser um dia igual aos outros, passado no mesmo sítio, com as mesmas pessoas a fazer as mesmas coisas. Levanto-me da cama, tomo banho, visto-me. Já nem quero saber se tenho o cabelo penteado ou se pus cinto nas calças. Tudo o que eu quero é que o dia acabe. Saio de casa, fumo outro cigarro. Anseio por uma mudança, mas ela não vem. Passo o dia a sonhar, desatento e sem querer saber do resto do mundo. Volto para casa, cansado e sem vontade de acordar para viver o dia seguinte. Para quê? É tudo igual. Sou apenas mais um adolescente sonhador. Ao chegar a casa, deito-me na minha cama a fumar outro cigarro. Tenho na minha cabeça o dia que se passou. Recordo caras, vozes, mas pouco mais do que isso. Passei o dia a sonhar com o mesmo rosto e com a mesma voz, sei que é essa pessoa que pode fazer a diferença em mim. No entanto, continuo a sonhar e não arrisco. Prefiro viver nesta escuridão para o resto da vida do que ver o meu sonho escapar-me por entre os dedos. Os dias passam-se e só consigo ver o mesmo rosto e ouvir a mesma voz. Vagueio pelo fumo do tabaco, vejo-me com aquela pessoa para o resto da vida, mesmo que seja só em sonhos. Mas os sonhos não chegam, quero viver essa realidade, quero amar e ser amado. Preciso de sair deste mundo onde a única coisa que faço é sonhar. O concretizar de um sonho está à distância de um olhar, de uma palavra... de um beijo. Porque não arriscar? Tiro a minha cabeça das nuvens, abro os olhos e persigo o sonho. Corro e corro, estou tão perto, mas, por alguma razão, não consigo esticar a mão e chegar a ele. Entretanto começo a cansar-me, as pernas doem, tal como a alma. Mas, pelo menos desta vez, não quero desistir. Não posso desistir. Descanso um bocado, respiro fundo, olho para o céu cinzento mais uma vez. Apetece-me pintá-lo de azul, quero ver um sol a brilhar. Não posso desistir! Respiro fundo uma última vez e continuo a correr. Corro até sentir as minhas veias rebentarem. Sem eu sequer dar por isso, o sonho torna-se realidade. O céu continua cinzento, o sol continua coberto pelas nuvens, mas algo mudou. Já não estou a sonhar. Vejo o mesmo rosto dos meus sonhos, ele sorri para mim. A voz dentro da minha cabeça também é real, e diz-me ao ouvido que me ama. O meu ritmo cardíaco aumenta, o ar começa a faltar-me. Isto não pode ser real. Acordo. Pois, bem me parecia... Preparo-me para a mesma rotina de sempre. Mas ao sair de casa, sinto o telemóvel vibrar. Tiro-o do bolso, é uma mensagem. Leio-a. O meu ritmo cardíaco aumenta de novo. Não foi um sonho. Saio de casa a correr, com um sorriso na cara. O céu está pintado de azul, com o sol a brilhar mesmo lá em cima. O meu sonho estava à distância de um olhar, de uma palavra... de um beijo. E agora o meu sonho é real.

C, este é para ti <3

Thirteen (13/11/10)

I look at you and my eyes begin to shine
My wish has come true, the girl I love is mine
I got the feeling of love running in my brain
As I kiss your soft lips again

Somehow I can't forget your smile
You're all over me and driving me wild
I got memories of you running in my brain
Until I kiss your kind lips again

I know this love will last in time
I hope you'll be forever mine
I got your beautiful face running in my brain
I want to kiss your sweet lips again

I just want you, please realize
This is the only truth in my world full of lies
I got the feeling of love running in my brain
I burn and need to kiss you once again

Sunrise to Sunset II

Hours fade away like seconds when you're right here with me
I miss you every single night, without your love I just can't be
I flew to heaven and stayed there in that cold but perfect night
Now it's peaceful and fine here, as I'm guided by your light
I want to kiss you and hold you, from sunrise to sunset...

You're stuck inside my mind, and I don't wanna let you go
Each moment we have is perfect as our love begins to grow
My dream has finally come true, and I don't want it to end
Now it's peaceful and fine here, I love you, my girlfriend
I want to stay with you forever, from sunrise to sunset...

Sunrise to Sunset

Days and nights come and go, I watch them passing by
My eyes just remain glazed, my mind is flying high
My soul's frozen in time, can you hear me when I shout?
You're the one who can save me, unlock the door and let me out
I'm waiting here for you, from sunrise to sunset..

No matter how I try, I just can't break the ice
The sun is going down on me, I don't want to pay this price
I'm feeling weaker as I die inside this prison's cell
You're the one who can save me, release me from this hell
I'm burning here for you, from sunrise to sunset...

As I say these words to you, I only hope that you can hear
You see me dying and you don't know, now I'm drowning in my fear
I only want you to know that you're all that matters to me
You're the one who can save me, I'm right here, I hope you see
I will love you forever, from sunrise to sunset...

Fooled Again

You follow one thing that's not real
Life's killing you and you can't feel
Distorted images run through your brain
As you walk into your dream again
You open your eyes and your blood runs cold
You lost your heart, you lost your soul
It hurts, it wounds, it kills, it lies
You were fooled again and I'm not surprised

You run away, think you won't come back
You're still in pain and your mind is still jacked
Time passes by as you fall so deep
You try to hold on but you lose your grip
In vain you look up to the sky
Trying to find whatever made you cry
It laughs, it hates, it kills, it lies
You were fooled again and I'm not surprised

You sit and think and now all is clear
You have found the reason for all your fears
You fell into your sorrow and you almost died
Drowned in the river of tears you cried
You raise your head and you get up again
You realize that crap's not worth the pain
Because it hurts, it hates, it kills, it lies
You found out the truth and I'm not surprised

A Rhyme for Love

I'm feeling trashed and crashing down
'Cause you're not here when I look around
The only way to end my pain
Is having you with me again

Stand by me and make this feeling go away
I want nothing else but to see your smile today
Make the clouds disappear, I need the sun shining bright
You're the one I really need and my only guiding light

Now that you're inside my heart
I don't want to let you go
Let me keep you with me forever
Just to see your starlight glow

O Tejo é mais Belo

O Tejo é mais belo que o rio que corre pela minha aldeia, Mas o Tejo não é mais belo que o rio que corre pela minha aldeia Porque o Tejo não é o rio que corre pela minha aldeia. O Tejo tem grandes navios E navega nele ainda, Para aqueles que vêem em tudo o que lá não está, A memória das naus. O Tejo desce de Espanha E o Tejo entra no mar em Portugal. Toda a gente sabe isso. Mas poucos sabem qual é o rio da minha aldeia E para onde ele vai E donde ele vem. E por isso porque pertence a menos gente, É mais livre e maior o rio da minha aldeia. Pelo Tejo vai-se para o Mundo. Para além do Tejo há a América E a fortuna daqueles que a encontram. Ninguém nunca pensou no que há para além Do rio da minha aldeia. O rio da minha aldeia não faz pensar em nada. Quem está ao pé dele está só ao pé dele.

Too lazy for a fucking title...

... And for a fucking post too.

Turn On Your Light (Judas Priest)

Why do I have to wait so long
Before you come into my life again
Seems as though forever until
I can be here by your side till then

I think you feel the same way too
You know you make my dreams come true
If you'll just turn on your light
Let me see it shining through the night

When I'm far away from here
I'll hold all the memories so clear
If I only have the choice
I would stay so let me hear your voice

I think you feel the same way too
You know you make my dreams come true
If you'll just turn on your light
Let me see it shining through the night

Tristes

Durante 5 dias úteis vocês são o pau mandado de alguém que voz diz o que fazer e a quem vocês lambem as botas como se não houvesse amanhã. No fim do dia, chegam a casa, fecham as cortinas, escondem-se por trás da vossa mobília do IKEA para não verem o mundo cruel que vos rodeia e fingem que nada aconteceu. Batem punhetas enquanto vêm os Ídolos ou as novelas da TVI como forma de se refugiarem da vossa triste vida e fingirem que são felizes. Por dentro sabem que não o são, então descarregam a vossa infelicidade nos demais. Mandam bocas, falam mal nas costas. E pessoas como eu acabam por ser "vitimas". Já percebi, vocês não gostam de pessoas como eu. E porquê? Porque nós somos livres... livres de todas as maneiras que vocês não são. Posso ser tudo o que vocês dizem, mas ao menos não sou como vocês, mesquinhos e filhos da puta. Não ando todo o dia com um pau enfiado no cu com pessoas a dizer-me o que fazer. Tudo depende da maneira como a vida é perspectivada por nós. Tristes de merda.

E com este desabafo concluo o meu post nº 100, com um agradecimento a que todos me apoiaram desde o início dele.

A Boy Named Sue

Well my daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

Os Ventos de Mudança

No meio da rua, com as mãos nos bolsos, contemplo o que se encontra à minha volta. Tento sentir tudo, até o mais pequeno pormenor. Fecho os olhos. Ouço o barulho dos pneus dos carros a andarem pelo asfalto, as buzinas, as vozes de dezenas de pessoas, todas misturadas. Sinto as pingas de chuva a baterem-me no pescoço e o vento a bater na minha cara e a despentear-me o cabelo. O vento frio e desconfortável. Há muito tempo que me sinto incomodado por este vento. Num rápido flash, tenho uma percepção da minha vida. Existem coisas que têm de ser mudadas com o tempo. Apesar de muita coisa já ter mudado, apesar da minha garra e determinação que antes me caracterizavam terem voltado e apesar de ter deixado para trás muitas coisas que só me prejudicavam a vida, sinto que ainda há algumas mudanças a ser feitas. Nessas mudanças eu não posso interferir, senão já o teria feito, com certeza. Só há uma existência (ainda que abstracta) que pode fazer essas mudanças acontecer: o tempo. E com o tempo, algumas coisas irão mudar... para melhor. Os ventos de mudança vão começar a soprar.

Symptoms

1 - You sweat like a motherfuckin' animal
2 - You shake like it was the coldest day on earth
3 - Your heart's confused
4 - Your mind's fucked up
5 - You dream a lot...

Yeah, just keep dreamin'...

Pro Wrestling is REAL, people are FAKE!

Lembro-me do dia em que tudo começou. O primeiro lock-up, o primeiro irish whip, o primeiro headlock, o primeiro pin. Lembro-me daquela tarde de quarta-feira, a primeira de muitas quartas-feiras daquelas. O início da ENW. No início era só o Venom e o Kandertaker X. Trabalhando todos os dias para preparar aquela a tarde de quarta-feira seguinte. A pouco e pouco, o culto aumentou. Ficámos a conhecer o Martini Man e o Matos Xtreme, as novas aquisições no nosso plantel. Agora éramos quatro. Gastámos horas da nossa vida, cansámo-nos e arriscámo-nos pelo wrestling. Ainda hoje tenho marcas de uma dessas tardes. Dois dentes rachados contam a história de um sleeper hold, as minhas costas contam a história de uma senton bomb, e a minha mente conta a história de 3 anos de wrestling. A chama que ardia dentro de nós era suficiente para incendiar uma floresta. Aquilo não era um hobby, era uma paixão. Até que um dia, tudo acabou. Por motivos de força maior, fomos obrigados a deixar a ENW para trás. Mas a chama nunca se apagou. Continua aqui, dentro de mim e, espero bem, dentro deles também. Isto é dedicado a todos os que contribuíram para que a ENW acontecesse.

André Matos (Matos Xtreme)
Miguel Guerreiro (Kandertaker X)
Pedro Monteiro (Martini Man)

MUITO OBRIGADO!

Miserable

You leave home every day, go through the same path to go to school or work... every day. You do it so many times you don't even think about it. You don't ask yourself "which was am I gonna go today?", you just do it, that's it. But you go through different people every day. I know it because it also happens to me. Sometimes, you leave home really angry, you're having some problems and/or you had a rough night, rolling over in your bed all night long, facing the annoying inability to sleep. Insomnia, that's what the general public calls it. As I was saying, you have insomnias, leave home angry and see all the people smiling, demonstrating confidence and happiness. You just wanna snap those fucking little necks and ruin those (already) miserable, routine lives. You feel bad because you can't. If you did it, you would ruin your own life too, you would feel more miserable than you already are and worse, you would get ass-fucked by a bunch of 7-foot faggots in prison. Is that really the life you want? No, it is not, so you let go and continue angry. You go to your school/job, and, you know it, there's always someone you want to assassinate in a brutal, violent, almost psychotic way. As you read this, you're probably denying all I said. Well, you just can go fuck yourself, because you know all I said it's true. Continuing, you find this person you want to kill, he/she pisses you off. And there's nothing you can fucking do about it. So, once again, you do nothing, because you fear all I said above. Yeah, 7-foot ass-raping motherfuckers. And you let go. You let the hate that lives inside you emerge. In the end of the day, you ho home. Your mom says "hello", you say "fuck off!" all lock yourself in your bedroom. You lay on your bed, get really depressed and angry, break down, and finally, start to cry. You feel so empty. You realize your life is so miserable that you no longer have fun, even when you do. You're just angry, 24/7. So you want to forget this feeling that is making you sad. You pick up your wallet and keys, leave home again. You go to the supermarket and buy, let's say... a bottle of vodka. You sit on the ground, you drink it, and you cry. Oh yeah, you're drunk, bitch. But you still can't eliminate that annoying, stupid feeling that you have inside. You slowly get up, go back to the supermarket, buy another bottle. You sit on the ground, you drink it, and you pass out. Oh yeah, you got REALLY drunk. You wake up in the next morning, completely naked, feeling heavy and hungover. Oh, and you got sunburns all over your naked torso. You look kinda orange. Your head aches, so does your entire body. You touch it and you feel that excruciating burn. You scream. Your body is burning so much you don't even dare to move. So you can't get up. And there you are, completely naked, exposed to the world, with orange skin and two bottles of vodka beside you. Some people laugh at you, some just close their eyes, they don't wanna see you, you look... fucking bad. As the time passes, you're still there, the sun is still burning your skin, and guess what? You feel even more empty and angry. All because of a fucking insomnia. You're a fucking miserable piece of shit.