About Me

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amsterdam, Netherlands
designer, dj, thinker. all work copyright protected.

"... tudo o que vejo tem ponto de beleza e crueldade, pois o que é belo é cruel e nao ha nada que se possa fazer àcerca disso." "all i see has beauty and cruelty in it, for all that is beautyfull is also cruel an there's nothing you can do about it."

Wednesday, August 10, 2016


The true tragedy of Love
is its irreplaceability.

The touch that takes over,
your physical self,
which it owns.

The memory where it lives and haunts.
The presence that enlightens and to darkness returns,
on a first breath of absence.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

nothing in between

Today I thought of leaving, meet the shores of my outer limits.

But i didn't.

Even though its soothing arms and gentle whispers have been often my voice and lament and next-of-kin, the true disquiet of my being relates to love.
To the lack thereof. To its excess, and to not having something else in between.
Nothing to sooth its passage, no warnings to stretch my bones, no call for the absence of sight or sound.
No half way to catch my breath, open my lungs and stiffen my muscles.
No shaking of the limbs as foreplay to a run and jump into belief.
No pat on my back to remind me of myself, my physical self, my minded self.
The true disquiet of my being relates to love.
Will always relate to love.
To the lack thereof.
To its excess.
And to nothing else in between.

Friday, October 11, 2013

to feel

streams of thoughts,
rampaging acessements
of all sorts...

to act, not to act, to choose
to trust the choice, to choose to trust
to fight, to walk, to keep on walking
to love, not to hate, to love, to love, to love
to not be tired, to keep on walking
to smile no matter what, no matter what.
to do these things
and those things
all things I'm allowed
and those out of reach...
to listen, to watch, to feel
to believe theres something
to believe it to be real
to feel.

drama drama drama

everything's got drama!
shit, everything's difficult and complex!
on every mind an evil twist
and on every word a hidden wish...

everything's got a story!
everyone's got a plan.
a side-plan slowly whispered,
on a language i don't understand.

they're like slick break-dancers,
high on themselves and their fast moves,
self-declared ethical bouncers,
shaking hands with empty gloves.

and then pointing fingers of harsh mistrust
accuse me of slipping on dreams of lust!

as if i could charge upon my sleep
against these creatures of make-belief...


Wednesday, August 28, 2013

These moves of letting know

driven full on things to speak out
things to love without a doubt
my heart grew bigger than my fists
arms curved, gave me kind of a twist...

i became unfit for what came next.

not knowing who's listening or why
upper-cuts on hold, standing by
unleashed on the shade of an absent eye

one after the other after the other...

they have cracked my ribs,
nearly pushed me aside…

but not quite.