A life long walk to the same exact spot

I lost control and pulled the trigger and lost control and spoke too much and said anything and didn’t change as much I’d like to. I couldn’t finish it and I keep finding all the excuses to not doing it (or to do). Convenience, that’s the name we use to not face the truth inside us. Convenience is justifying all the lies, is feeding the fear.

Missed the boat

While we're on the subject
Could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ears
Don't worry, you were always out
Looking towards the future
We were begging for the past
Well, we know we had the good things
But those never seemed to last
Oh, please just last

Everyone's unhappy
Everyone's ashamed
Well we all just got caught looking
At somebody else's page
Well, nothing ever went
Quite exactly as we planned
Our ideas held no water
But we used them like a dam

Oh, and we carried it all so well
As if we got a new position
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell
Saying, "Yes, this is a fine promotion"
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell

Of course everyone goes crazy
Over such and such and such
We made ourselves a pillar
But we just used it as a crutch
We were certainly uncertain
At least I'm pretty sure I am
Well, we didn't need the water
But we just built that good goddamn

Oh, and I know this of myself
I'd assume as much for other people
Oh, and I know this of myself
We've listened more to life's end gong
Than the sound of life's sweet bells

Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well, we knew we'd missed the boat
And we'd already missed the plane
We didn't read the invite
We just danced at our own wake
All our favorites were playing
So we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

Tiny curtains open and we heard the tiny clap of little hands
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all the folks
Sitting, drifting around in bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them
When we finally got it figured out that we had truly missed the boat

Oh, and we carried it all so well
As if we got a new position
Oh, and we owned all the tools ourselves
But not the skills to make a shelf with
Oh, what useless tools ourselves

sobre o fim

Fim de ano é um porre atrás do outro, um monte de ansiedades para concluir o que nos propusemos lá no início do ano (e que vamos propor de novo), um tanto de horas gastas em congestionamentos cretinos por causa de árvores de natal e show de luzes. Eu detesto árvores de natal, presépios e coral. A temática natalina de modo geral me irrita.

A parte boa do fim de ano é que, por alguma razão obscura, marcamos encontros com todas as pessoas para as quais não demos a menor audiência durante o ano. E nos atualizamos sobre todos os assuntos pendentes, para que possamos passar o próximo ano agendando chopes que não vão acontecer.

E também encontramos todo mundo que a gente gosta e que vimos menos do que gostaríamos. Hoje eu fui fazer aquele tricô com as meninas: almocinho, vinho e conversas que realmente alimentam o meu ego. Falamos mal dos nossos empregos e salários, revisamos nossas bandas e escritores favoritos, discutimos nosso apreço por esquisitices em geral e pessoas complexas, decidimos arrumar um geriatra e começar alguma atividade física que não seja ingerir unidades alcoólicas no próximo ano.

Não fizemos nenhuma promessa, porque já somos crescidinhas e sabemos que não vamos cumpri-las.

Mas trocamos livros incríveis, fizemos listas infames e concluímos que as grandes bandas de rock, daquelas com jatinhos, não existem mais. Tudo bem, ainda existem Michael Stipe e Yorke e eles querem comer o Morrisey.