Saturday, March 01, 2003

The truth will make you free

Oh, My Brazil.

Where hearts were entertaining June
We stood beneath an amber moon
And softly murmured someday soon...
We kissed...
And clung together
Tomorrow was another day
The morning found me miles away *
With still a million things to say
When twilight dims the skies above **
Recalling thrills of our love
There's one thing I'm certain of
I will...
to old...

The truth will make you free but first it will piss you off.
And so it goes. The movie Brazil. My neurosis. Growing up in Poland. Proper Paperwork. This Paper doesn't have a proper stamp. It's not stamped correctly. That will be 20 zlotys. Sign here. We will not accept this paper untill it's stamped. My Brazil baby. We kissed.

But they said there are other places on the planet. Warmer places. With genuine smiles. Amerika they called it. I called it my Brazil. Were hearts were entertainig June. We stood beneath the amber moon....well, scratch that. She went to Germany.

Brazil. The masked-man is going to make me better. I am better already. My neurosis have been cured. Nothing to write about any more. I pay my taxes and mow my lawn on Saturday mornings. Good morning. Good morning. Good morning.

Brazil. I can't shake off that silly past that's constantly in my eyes. What a pupass this is. (Pupass is a way of calling sombody infantile. I made this word up from pupa in polish. Well, if you ever read Ferdydurke you know what I mean.)

So anyway. Pupass. It's been a lot of Pupass recently. Infantile extravagance with Bada Bing moments. Please move on. There is nothing to see here. Brazil. When will you leave me alone?

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