sexta-feira, 30 de novembro de 2012


Mankind is resilient. We struggle in the face of adversity. Men is oftenly ready to fight for a sense of honor, to earn one's fear or respect. What man can't bare is an adversary not willing to fight back, one who refuses to win nor lose. One who turns the other cheek.

You see, I used to believe this candid Christian motto was nothing but a sign of weakness and masochist submission, now I can see another point of view. Superiority, sympathy; “Forgive them father, for they don’t know what they are doing.” Where you choose not to acknowledge or not to take offence by others behavior.

It can be wise, but it’s also, of course, an act of cynicism that disregards another’s point of view. Where you fail to recognize one as being capable of making one’s own choices. It is dubious and confusing. For any and for this situation, be suspicious of kindness.

Mankind is oftenly killed by kindness, which can be seen as an act of greatness, or of patronizing indifference. Unexpected or unwanted forgiveness may not be forgiven because it gives a man an ultimatum.

It’s not something one can disagree, since it has nothing to disagree about. One can either resent the other by not accepting to be put in such situation of absence, or to put his pride and self-righteousness aside in a act of redemption, which feels like suicide, since its the death of ego. The death of ego, it is the core of forgiveness as it is of being forgiven.

For both man, it requires a paradoxical act of self-respect and selflessness. This is how you transcend the fact, as a matter of fact, this is how you transcend any fact, even the one in matter I can’t shut up about. It’s act within an act.

Turning the other chick is also taking a stand, and that’s why you can never flight a fight.

domingo, 29 de julho de 2012


How I view my flaws as opposed to yours, what I hated the most and where we both met;



Me:

Absentminded, Anxious, Audacious, Bigmouth, Bold, Complex, Dependent, Deranged, Disturbed, Explosive, Fierce, Fixation, Flirt, Gluttonous, Hedonistic, Idealist, Impatient, Indecisive, Immature, Impish, Klutz, Lustful, Masochist, Naive, Nosey, Obsessive, Overemotional, Precarious, Proud, Rebellious, Reckless, Resentful, Sadomasochist, Seducer, Self-Martyr, Smart Ass, Soft-hearted, Spoiled, Stubborn, Temperamental, Temptation, Theatrical, Unpredictable, Unsecure, Viceous, Weak-willed


You:

Abusive, Addict, Arrogant, Blunt, Callous, Complex, Cruel, Dependent, Disturbed, Dubious, Egotistical, Envious, Fickle, Fierce, Finicky, Fixation, Hard, Hypocritical, Ignorant, ImpatientIndifferent, Intolerant, Immature, Judgmental, Liar, Obsessive, Oppressor, Overprotective, Paranoid, Peevish, PessimistProudRemorseless, Rigorous, Sadist, Sarcastic, Selfish, Self-righteous, Sinism, Spiteful, SpoiledStubborn, Tactless, Temperamental, Untrustworthy, Unpredictable, Unsecure, Weak-willed


domingo, 12 de junho de 2011

a vida desnecessariamente miserável do pequeno burguês

Eu acho, e não tenho certeza, de que foi Baudelaire quem disse que preferia ser flaneur, emergido em sua experiência de observar o mundo, do que passar simplesmente seus dias a teorizar, escrever sobre a vida eximindo-se dela, ou talvez tenha sido Oscar Wilde que preferia ser dandi, quase ele mesmo um Dorian Gray, bon vivant desafiando a culpa, a moral, o tempo... Anyway, eu comecei falando sobre isso buscando uma certa comparação entre minha vida e a desses mitos urbanos do século XIX, mas fico pensando o quanto o flaneur era um observador da pequena vida que acontecia no labirinto da cidade grande, com um olhar cético, basicamente analítico até perder-se em devaneios e sobre o quanto o dandi era uma figura que vivia na superficialidade dos prazeres banais e me pego pensando que eu devo ser mesmo o homem comum que eles olham atrás das janelas das pequenas propriedades privadas, dos pequenos universos urbanos que compõem um mosaico calendoscóipico, em constante movimento circular, repetido padrões de comportamento, um hamster correndo em círculos, preso em sua gaiola...

e eu vejo minha vida de fora, onde a interferência já está contida no destino, and there's no freedom, just a script - como se fosse um filme dentro de um filme dentro de um filme (ad inf.)

segunda-feira, 15 de novembro de 2010

Sobre os Olhos Incertos

I've been seeing you love, and your wandering eyes. They can't face mine. I've been longing for your eyes to tell me the things I need to hear to go on. I've been waiting for them to share some happiness or at least some hope. They don't seem to know where to go, and sometimes they lie, they lay on something insignificant, some empty space, like windows to your thoughts. They talk in a language I don't understand, I feel like watching a sad foreign movie without the subtitles on. I've been trying to find a connection to you, a glimpse, or whatever... but I'm left in a blank space, at open sea. It's hard to swim dear, the water is cold and so dense... its hard to move. I can't reach the shore, I'm far from the surface and I can't breath.

Where do you rest your eyes? they don't glide at mine and I'm lost and lonesome wandering thought the fog. Living in the brooms, every step away from my sanity and closer to a labyrinth, a cliff, a precipice.

I've been lost in you love. I've been lost in you. I've lost my mind. My mind.

segunda-feira, 25 de outubro de 2010

I’m letting go
To see if you hold onto me
I’m in doubt of what is thought and what is real
In our room
Between the shapes I thought I knew
A guilty… A pillow of feathers like snow


I’ve come to listening post be on your lines
I’m all ears to gather clues and look for signs

But I can’t hear the song you sing
While you try to soothe

Why are you whispering while the bombs are falling?




Go easy on me; I can’t help what I’m doing
Go easy on me; you can’t help what I’m doing


when thoughts have out numbered spoken words
In the early hours we failed to establish
Who was hurt



most.

quinta-feira, 22 de abril de 2010

"Qualquer narrativa de ficção é necessária e fatalmente rápida porque, ao construir um mundo que inclui uma multiplicidade de acontecimentos e de personagens, não pode dizer tudo sobre esse mundo. Alude a ele e pede ao leitor que preencha toda uma série de lacunas. Afinal, todo texto é uma máquina preguiçosa pedindo ao leitor que faça uma parte do seu trabalho. que problema teria se um texto tivesse de dizer tudo que o receptor deve compreender - não terminaria nunca." (Umberto eco)

Você queria tanto passear pelos detalhes, passear na solidez que um acontecimento elabora, na segurança oferecida, que esqueceu de ler nas entrelinhas, esqueceu que as lacunas da minha história continuavam em você.

terça-feira, 20 de abril de 2010

I've been lying around in bed all day not sure weather I should get up. Sleeping has a way of tricking time you know? I cheated myself into the future believing somehow the absence from the present would prevent me from feeling the unbearable pain of being alive. In the process of having the most terrible and the sweetest dreams to waking up I lost sense of reality, not knowing what was really worst; waking up from my nightmare into the nightmare of reality, or waking up tortured by the fantasy I still had what I lost. Overcoming, it costs too much, it costs getting over. Letting go.