N G R 161: Moinho

Windmill

Time goes wherever you are Time is your guiding star That shines all through your life Makes you feel and move My dreams are out in the far So are yours a part Of secret fairy tales Dripped on the wings of a mystery mill Windmill, windmill, keep on turning Show me the way, take me today Windmill, windmill, hearts are yearning Longing for love and a chance to be free Don't feel alone and depressed Someone will come at last To soothe your stumbling mind To keep it away from the evil storm Windmill, windmill, keep on turning Show me the way, take me today Windmill, windmill, hearts are yearning Longing for love and a chance to be free Windmill, windmill, keep on turning Show me the way, take me today Windmill, windmill, hearts are yearning Longing for love and a chance to be free Windmill, windmill, keep on turning Show me the way, take me today Windmill, windmill, hearts are yearning Longing for love and a chance to be free Time goes wherever you are

Fallen trees, thousands of trees, living and dead trees in the mountain forest.

A thousand trails and paths.

The forest canopy is a woman's face. It is the sky of a mind where light moves as the sun, moon and stars shine. It is the sky from where rainwater falls when the woman weeps her joys, sorrows and sometimes rage. It is the sky of red and pink lips, of murmurs, sighs, words, and winds. She is the canopy, the soul and spirit of the mountain forest.

Well, she went to play Golf. But I wonder what she did in those fields of green grass. I wonder what those silly things that she did really meant'

It´s Crazy to not know what she did and what she said. To not know to who was she talking.

Was she talking to me' I would like love to know.

We aren't going to be friends. But yes, she can still please a man and herself. She still has time.

Ah ah ah Anne.

Well, she is in a pause. Still exercising love, well pleasure, but as satd, she entered the period when the women break began.

Weather in Lisbon, September 23

Wind

There´s a lot of work to do there. On the ground and in the clouds. Hopefully some love work too.

Middle thought, Dark Green

Black, Red, Purple, Pink, White, Blue.

Why not yellow or brown, which is the clowns job, that sucks everything else' The brain and the body, the other colors, nature, trails, cabin, sky, heavens, dreams, taste, pleasure and joy.

She is mad´ Mad with you, you who´ Me´ Someone else' A friend, a lover'

Mad' It must have been because she was in a Golf course.

What she wrote' What and who she paint´ The colors of her clothes'

Who was she looking at in the distance with that far distant smile?

It all gives place and wings to imagination, fantasy, some love and pleasure, dreams.

I´m writing my little pumpkin things, just that. And, and my understanding of her things.

A person needs to be and talk with other person, a friend. To understand each other, to better understand, for a better understanding and comprehension of the things of the other. If there´s something to talk about and to understand!? What she does and says there' On the places where she goes´ On her social page´ She´s playing, having encrypted fun, dancing, sending messages, love letters, with words and lipstick marks, kisses from her lips. To her life, to her friends. Is there a lover' A secret and hidded lover'

I can understand a bit of some things, but not everything. A little bit of this and that, yes. I understand, but not everything.

Comme disent les filles, un tout petit peu de la bite. A bit, the last bit of the summer. Because, it’s already Autumn and I’m wearing my winter boots, my pink skirt bunched between my legs, and the navy blue sweater he gave me when we were wandering through the bedsheets store.

Don't say and do these kind of things. There are sensitive people, some more than others. She can sensitive, like any other person, like me. And the things you say can touch people´s sensibilities, excite, enthuse, inspire enthusiasm, spirit, inspire fantasy, creativity and dreams or hurt their feelings.

Too much love, true, the reality of these words, of these words of mine and hers.

She wrote, it is written, translation, "earse*me" end of the Summer.

Last hit, I'm asking you a question. Can you stop? Can you stop teasing me'

Her answer, "I´m mad at you" You, me or who' Is she mad with someone´ Another question.

It was written, said, it is done. Whatever I wrote, said and did on this message, that people may understand and comprehend or not.

GOOD & EVIL

Diary

Screaming at the window Watch me die another day Hopeless situation Endless price I have to pay Sanity now it's beyond me There's no choice Diary of a madman Walk the line again today Entries of confusion Dear diary, I'm here to stay Manic depression befriends me Hear his voice Sanity now it's beyond me There's no choice A sickened mind and spirit The mirror tells me lies Could I mistake myself for someone Who lives behind my eyes? Will he escape my soul Or will he live in me? Is he trying to get out Or trying to enter me? Voices in the darkness Scream away my mental health Can I ask a question To help me save me from myself? Enemies fill up the pages Are they me? Monday 'til Sunday in stages Set me free

Revelation (Mother Earth)

Mother, please forgive them For they know not what they do

Looking back in history's books It seems, it's nothing new Oh, let my mother live Heaven is for heroes And hell is full of fools Stupidity, No will to live They're breaking God's own rules Please, let my mother live Father of all creation I think we're all going wrong The path they're taking Seems to be breaking And it won't take too long Children of the future Watching empires fall Madness, the cup they drink from Self-destruction, the toll I had a vision. I saw the world burn And the seas had turned red The sun had fallen. The final curtain In the land of the dead Mother, please show the children Before it's too late To fight each other, there's no one winning We must fight all the hate

GOOD & EVIL

Wings on the wind´s ways.

Wings flying throught the paths of the wind.

There is a grammatical error here, she flew to Lisbon and not to London. A little misunderstanding, my error, my mistake.

Well, my Pumpkin English, my being, my personality, the way I am. To be or not to be kind, loving, affectionate with someone dear. Caring or mean, ill-intentioned, harsh, violent, criminal, guilty. Maybe or maybe not.

You're no different

How many times can you put me down 'Til in your heart you realize If you choose to criticize You choose your enemies?

Everything that I say and do In your eyes is always wrong Tell me where do I belong In a sick society You're no different to me You're no different No different to me Look at yourself instead of looking at me With accusation in your eyes Do you want me crucified For my profanity? Concealing your crimes behind a Grandeur of lies Tell me, where do I begin? If you think you're without sin Be the first to cast the stone You're no different to me, yeah You're no different No different to me You're no different to me, yeah You're no different No different to me Can't you see, can't you see? You're no different to me Won't you see, won't you see? You're no different to me Living my life in a way that I choose You say I should apologize Is that envy in your eyes Reflecting jealousy? Tell me the truth, and I'll admit to my guilt If you'll try and understand Is that blood that's on your hand From your democracy? You're no different to me, yeah You're no different No different to me You're no different to me, yeah You're no different No different to me

Puzzle, pieces, labyrinth, mud, no way out, neither beginning, middle, nor end, trap, crossroads, no reason, endless justifications, without a justification to be given to some scoundrels, toil, conspiracy, and insularity.

The way people understand things and other people. Not everyone has the same understanding or grasp of things and people. Of what is written, said, or done. No one is equal to any other person. Often, it comes down to how certain people *want* to see things and people, rather than how those things and people actually are. The ill feelings some people harbor because of who others are. Feelings like a sense of inferiority, envy, pettiness, malice, and the burdens of illness, self-interest, and work. They are opposed to everything people are, and to everything people do, write, or say, All because of their being, personality. Because of the feelings they harbor and experience. That´s why they do what they do, they are shit, stupid, they do the clowns job.

WINDMILL