art

JJ kinda mood

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“Little Girl Blue”

Sit there, hmm, count your fingers.
What else, what else is there to do ?
Oh and I know how you feel,
I know you feel that you’re through.
Oh wah wah ah sit there, hmm, count,
Ah, count your little fingers,
My unhappy oh little girl, little girl blue, yeah.

Oh sit there, oh count those raindrops
Oh, feel ’em falling down, oh honey all around you.
Honey don’t you know it’s time,
I feel it’s time,
Somebody told you ’cause you got to know
That all you ever gonna have to count on
Or gonna wanna lean on
It’s gonna feel just like those raindrops do
When they’re falling down, honey, all around you.
Oh, I know you’re unhappy.

Oh sit there, ah go on, go on
And count your fingers.
I don’t know what else, what else
Honey have you got to do.
And I know how you feel,
And I know you ain’t got no reason to go on
And I know you feel that you must be through.
Oh honey, go on and sit right back down,
I want you to count, oh count your fingers,
Ah my unhappy, my unlucky
And my little, oh, girl blue.
I know you’re unhappy,
Ooh ah, honey I know,
Baby I know just how you feel.

Pick a toy

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Even at 3:12 am I find it difficult to focus or to let go.
I am constantly forcing myself to fit in and doing what is right.
Maybe there is no right.
Maybe all my efforts to please everyone else but me were just the evidence of my inaptitude for life.
Maybe it’s time to accept that there is no sign of sanity on living, specially when trying to follow the crowd. Most of people out there are even more insane than I could ever be, even if I tried.
There’s no reason to wish for safety or sense. Choices are mere circumstances and not life statements.
Nothing lasts long enough in life to be worth all this sacrifice.
Life is such an ephemeral existence in time.
I don’t believe I will ever understand it all at all.

Brincar de pintar

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😦

Sinto saudades das brincadeiras da infância
Do descomprometimento com o certo
Da empolgação pela diversão
Da facilidade do acerto
Da simplicidade
Da liberdade
Da beleza
De mim
E de tudo que era bom.

Do tempo em que viver era leve
Brincar era óbvio
Sonhar era possível
Sorrir era a regra
E toda exceção
Toda dor
toda tristeza
Podia ser abolida
Transformada e redefinida
Rejeitada, curada ou esquecida.

Saudades do quintal da vovó
Da brincadeira de corda
Da bola
Da escola
Do bolinho de chuva
E de tudo que ja passou.

Que bom que existem as tintas
Pincéis, telas, lápis e papel
Eles podem dobrar o tempo
Trazer sonhos à realidade
Estrelas, sol e nuvens ao mesmo céu.

Com eles é possível criar,
Começar de novo ou fazer diferente
Voltar a brilhar, brincar, inventar
Virar criança, bicho, coisa ou gente.
Pintar permite paz e restitui a calma
dá asas aos sonhos, alegria aos olhos,
Devolve cor à vida e juventude a alma.

🙂