the.old.bastard.

because endurance is more important than truth.

recomendado pelo continuamente contraditório guri da cidade pequena.

inside.romdeau.

sketches.of.my.life.

uma das melhores coisas do ano, foi a sarah polley quem fez .

diária.três.

francisco.e.evandro.

adega.de.chás.

a.invenção.de.um.macaco.

On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse - bassoons, basset horns - like a rusty squeezebox. And then, suddenly - high above it - an oboe, a single note, hanging there, unwavering. Until a clarinet took it over. Sweetened it into a phrase of such delight! This was no composition by a performing monkey. This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing the very voice of God. 

amém.

she can define her enterily relation towards you by the music she would listen at that time. maybe she'd just pick up something among your stuff or she could bring her own. it doesn't matter. they were not the ones which would made her feel reliant. or safe. as folk or blues. they just caused her stunningly carnal feelings. like she were almost in hazard. very much like hard jazz or electronic rap.