Peculiar subject for a quick, speedy fix of my writing desires. I'm jonesing fucking about with words, and a mix of different kinds of dry fruits has been the best I came up with... Oh dear, I've hit pseudo-literaty rock bottom. Forgive me for this, but insane is, sometimes, the dodgy foundation upon which sanity may build itself, eventhough colapse is everything but far-fetched...
«Nut: noun A dry fruit consisting of an edible kernel or meat enclosed ina woody or leathery shell.»
One of many meanings of this lovely word, amongst other synonyms such as crazy or testicle, being the above mentioned botanic connotation the one I'm most interested in. You may, out of pure child-like curiosity, fetch a thessaurus and dive deep into the many words equivalent to the one which today is the subject of my little rant, I will leave that up to you.
Back to the matter. In a witty and cunning flash of intelectual clarity, one can draw a paralel between a nut -walnut, chestnut, hazelnut, pine nut and others of similar nature and importance in our world- and oneself. Not that I consider my blogging adventures witty or cunning in any way. I try to, but that always escapes from my creative grasp.
Bear with me for a second, it will become clear, this line of thought...
Like in a nut, and more obviously in a mix of assorted ones, simplicity is almost always apparent. The inside, edible kernel is enclosed by many different woody shells. Moreover, the kernel itself is made up from many different layers and textures, some more obvious than others, some worth revealing, others best kept away where the sun neither doesn't nor does it want to shine! So you see, the assortment isn't actually the mix of different, individual, lonely nuts, but rather a super-mega-tera-nut, a walhazelchestpine-nut, assorted in its uniqueness and intrinsic variety.
So, behold: yours truly is walhazelchestpine-nut, in a world full of walhazelchestpine-nuts, establishing walhazelchestpine-nutian relationships. The bottom-line is:
WALHAZELCHESTPINE-NUT
As I read what I've just written, I consider deleting it and replacing this poor, tacky text by a deep, soul-searching paragraph. I will not. It makes no sense whatsoever, but I like it.
Fuck off!
As usual, something really worth reading, it is my way of apologizing for killing some of your braincells-yes, my writing does that, it's worst than smoking a reefer:
1,2,3
Nao vou procurar quem espero
Se o que eu quero é navegar
Pelo tamanho das ondas
Conto nao voltar
Parto rumo à Primavera
Que em meu fundo se escondeu
Esqueco tudo do que eu sou capaz
Hoje o mar sou eu
Esperam-me ondas que persistem
Nunca param de bater
Esperam-me homens que resistem
Antes de morrer
Por querer mais do que a vida
Sou a sombra do que eu sou
E ao fim nao toquei nem nada
Do que em mim tocou
Eu vi,mas nao agarrei
Eu vi,mas nao agarrei
Parto rumo à maravilha
Rumo à dor que houver p'ra vir
Se eu encontrar uma ilha
Paro p'ra sentir
E dar sentido à viagem
A sentir que eu sou capaz
Se o meu peito diz "Coragem!"
Volto a partir em pazEu vi,mas nao agarrei
Eu vi,mas nao agarrei
Eu vi,mas nao agarrei
Eu vi,mas nao agarrei
Capitão Romance, Ornatos Violeta
Once again, I'm sorry. But beware, I will do it again
