summoning sickness

according to the rules, a creature unnafected by summoning sickness can attack in the same turn it comes into play - unlike the others, who have to wait till the next turn. usually, creatures with summoning sickness are weak, reckless and usually die quite easy - anything that blocks them, kills them. so most of the time, they don't stay in game much time - they deliver one attack successfully, two if they are lucky. and then, puff puff, one hit, two eventually, and they're goners, down to the graveyard with them.

this was one of those moments when i should write something else here. something furious, full of hatred, full of despair, maybe. and so i did. in a devious way, mind you.

aegwynn

aegwynn had two shadows.

one, was her own, the shadow that since the moment she was born had been her dark follower. and the other, was the shadow of the demon who possessed her. the one against whom she fiercely fought - and won, almost sacrificing her life in the process. and as her son, the powerful medivh, was possessed, she sacrificed herself to save him, and to cleanse the curse he had been born with.

so maybe she can heal me too. and save me. and bring me back from the land of the dead, revived and powerful, ready to face any foe, ready to leave the past where it belongs.

cast away

and alone in a desert island, restlessly staring at the sea looking for a boat what will never come.

philosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XIX)

where everything dies, everything can be reborn. not everything.

autumn song

slowly, almost unnoticed, the green summer leaves start losing their natural colour. fading green, sometimes crimson, wrinkled yellow, dead brown. and then, one by one, by the strenght of the wind or the lack of will, they start to fall. one by one. slowly, endlessly. and a little bit of the tree's life dies with each falling leaf that hits the ground. until one day, when there are no more leaves to leave, and the once green tree is naked. its dead wood, soaked by the cold rain. its broken branches, bouncing with the wind. and what remains of the once wild green is now rotting in the floor.

every single day, since the end of summer, the tree dies a little. and every single year, the tree does not know if it will survive the naked winter.

we can't avoid being ourselves, after all

we can try to hide our nature, our true self, but that's a fight we're bound to lose. and then out grand masterwork of appearances vanishes in a moment, a heartbeat. and then everyone sees who we are. and then, the ground shatters and collapses under our feet.

choices, choices

australia
canada
ireland
malta
new zealand
united kingdom
united states of america

death and taxes

at this rate, i'm also guessing this is going to be a very long winter. and the funny thing is, despite the cold outside, it's still autumn. anyway. americans have a saying, the only innevitable things in life are death and taxes. something like this. i pay no taxes at the moment though, and it's not in my plans to die in the short term. so i suppose i have to carry on.

ecolover

it's not that i recycle junk and stuff. but i'm wondering. in which container shall someone who recycles leave his heart after being kicked right in the ass?

1) the glass one, because it is broken;
2) the plastic one, because it will burn anyway;
3) the cardboard one, because it also burns, and it has been already used, written, rewritten and wrinkled;
4) the battery one, because it has just ran out.

it should be more explicit, shouldn't it?

the improbability of communication

fuck the voices on my head. fuck the race my heart is beating against itself - and losing, the sucker. fuck the pride, i've swallowed worst. time to grab my cell phone and give someone a buzz. killing time, some would say. pure despair, i might add.

more than one-hundred contact numbers here.

excluding:

- family (4). won't do.
- work-related (7). lol.
- male-friends (30). no good to talk with them about this.
- unknown numbers i have (2). don't ask.

this leaves girls, mind you. now, let's see:

- ex-girlfriends/ex-affairs (3). not in a million years.
- old friends, now acquaintances, to whom i haven't talked for ages (31). it won't be now, that's for damn sure.
- old friends that didn't even knew she ever existed (6). pointless, isn't it?
- biased friends (2). obvious.
- close friends with whom i don't feel up to talk (7). self-explanatory.
- close friends i'm tired of (1). quoting holden, she give(s) me a royal pain in the ass.
- close friends i've bugged recently (2). they've had enough of this shit already.
- close friends that would make me feel worse (5).
- close friends i would really call now (1). i'll try.
- close friends with cell phone turned out (1). i tried.

oh, fuck it. fuck it all.

beauty in the dissonance

i really need to stop daydreaming. i really need to land for once, to feel the cold earth under my feet and take a deep breath. it's a time of trials, and i knew it. only, i never expected them to be like this. to feel this way. the storm rages above me, violently, restlessly. the wind blows, ravenous. and the whispers of the past haunt my ears, their talons fiercely grasping my mind. so much noise in such a silent place. there is no going back, for the way i came from vanished under the blizzard. no matter. without any other option, i'll find beauty in the dissonance, or die trying.

update

the vontade indómita now resides on the side links. with the origem das espécies, which should be there already. shame on me.

alone

i, feel the time, slowly drifting in my veins.
memories, remains.
confined, i’m alive, somewhere by the autumn leaves,
falling in between.

‘cause no one's there to hold my head up high.
no one's there to peace my mind.

alone lies my soul,
i'm so cold, i'm afraid
to find hollow life
sleepless nights, empty days.

opaque, fading eyes, stumble in my face
through the crowd i forsake.
demised i’m aside, weaked by the lonely haze
of no point, no aim.

‘cause no one's there to hold my head up high.
no one's there to peace my mind.

alone, i'm afraid
to find hollow life,
sleepless nights, empty days.

alone…

ramp, alone, nude, 2003 #7

things that i hate (I)

ringtones.

irony

in the end, we're always alone. and it's somewhat ironic to see how things change, isn't it?

left behind

people pass by us. but do they stay? if we think about the cycles of our lives, how many faces we've seen since the beginning? i remember my primary school pictures, and none from there remains in my life. from high school, a few remain (and will remain), but from all the friends i've made in the last four years in the university, how many will keep in touch with me in, let's say, five years? two, maybe three? five? not much more, i believe.

it might be sad and somewhat cruel, but that's the way it works. we can't keep everyone with us for long. some people come, we grant them access to our lives. and they stay awhile, make themselves confortable, get to know us. but after some time, they simply go, never to be seen again. it will come the day when we find the old albums, covered with dust, and we remember them. "wonder where she might be now", we'll think. and we'll remember how important were those faces before. we remember laughing with them, crying on their shoulders, stealing a kiss on a subway station. but they're gone, and gone for good. one day, who knows, we might be walking on the street and find them. and we'll recognize each other, and we'll smile, say hello, talk a little about the old times. and then we'll bid each other farewell, promising to meet again in some pleasant place to talk. just like before.

and it will be an empty promise. for we shall never see each other again. and why this happens? mostly because we ran out of issues to talk about. because we met other people. because we followed different paths. and we leave them behind, and they leave us behind, and it's meant to be like that. ten years ago, there was this blonde girl on my class, we were close friends; we don't see each other for six years. in the meanwhile i knew she got married and all, but i doubt we'll heard from each other again. and even if we met one of these days, what would we talk about? or this other girl, who i dated four years ago. where's she now? never seen her since the day we broke up. and i could keep writing for the rest of the afternoon.

right now, a lot of people i know are already fading away. some of them, i doubt i'll ever see again. others are quite close to me, but within one year, no more, they'll be nothing but memories. some of them will stay, of course, for there are relationships that time cannot break or bend. but most of them will vanish. just like we will, one day.

retrospective

2001:



2004:



2005:

i've been burning some pretty good songs. what's next?

struggle

according to the gravity's rules, everything that rises, has to fall. there is no rule, however, forcing something that falls to rise again. thus, falling is easy: one merely needs to do nothing, and wait for the wind to blow one out of balance. rising, on the other hand, is a struggle both against the gravity and the wind.

túrin turambar

in a way, i feel exactly like túrin turambar, the so-called master of destiny, who was mastered by none other than destiny itself. as túrin, i cannot quite understand the meaning of the signs i get; and, with no one to enlighten me, or blinded by pride, i have to think by myself and move over. and so, in every new situation, i try to think about what have happened before, and do better this time. only, the outcome is the same. death. destruction. chaos. suffering. woe. even the victories end bitterly. so maybe my fate is like his own - to die by his own sword, after a life of failures and sorrow.

splinters

some things, as insignificant as they might be, are bound to hurt us deeply.

self inflicted

the problem with choice resides in our nature, and in the fact that we can't help wondering how would have everything gone if we had made it differently. choice, by definition, implices an option - you go this or that way. but usually, when you go this way, the other way is locked behind you, and there is no turning back. you can do nothing more but imagine how it would have been. and even if you're given the chance to go back and follow the other way, things are not as they would have been before.

so choice is not really painful. all the suffering from regretting a choice is self inflicted. we are the ones torturing ouselves about what we did and did not.

phylosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XVIII)

the misery of one is the glory of another one. oh yes. truth be told, we all make our ascendance by climbing a pile of corpses of the ones we left behind.

maybe dry-cleaning would do?

i so need a heartwash.

philosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XVII)

everyone sees the world from a different point of view. not everyone. some people have a point of view; others, blindfolded, take one's view for themselves.

hopefully, it'll be like this:

rev. harry powell: [when he notices john staring at the words "love" and "hate" tattooed across his knuckles] ah, little lad, you're staring at my fingers. would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? the story of good and evil? h-a-t-e! it was with this left hand that old brother cain struck the blow that laid his brother low. l-o-v-e! you see these fingers, dear hearts? these fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. the right hand, friends, the hand of love. now watch, and i'll show you the story of life. those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warring and a-tugging, one agin t'other. now watch 'em! old brother left hand, left hand he's a fighting, and it looks like love's a goner. but wait a minute! hot dog, love's a winning! yessirree! it's love that's won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!

in night of the hunter, directed by charles laughton, 1955

quoth the raven (XXI):

by the time you swear you're his,
shivering and sighing,
and he vows his passion is
infinite, undying -
lady make a note of this:
one of you is lying.

dorothy parker, unfortunate coincidence

aegwynn

i, like the powerful aegwynn, have two shadows: my own, that has been with me since i left the mother's womb, and a second one, haunting, from the darkness that has possessed me. which one will prevail in the end, when everything is said and done, remains yet to be seen.

and now, going here:

voyez-vous demain..!

practicing

yes, of course, who has time? who has time? but then if we do not ever take time, how can we ever have time? (pause) château haut-brion 1959, magnificent wine, i love french wine, like i love the french language. i have sampled every language, french is my favourite - fantastic language, especially to curse with. nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperies de connards d'enculés de ta mère. you see, it's like wiping your arse with silk, i love it.

the merovingian, in the matrix reloaded, 2003

it's the gravity, i suppose

how come i came from heaven to be on the deepest of hells now?

and, because i'm your friend and i'm enjoying the conversation a lot, some more insight on the subject:

(and because i've always wanted to write a very long title)

in wikipedia, of course:

decapitation is invariably fatal, as brain death occurs within seconds to minutes without the support of the organism's body. oh really?

consider it a x-mas gift, my dear

and since i'm giving you two, can i borrow one of these days?

quoth the raven (XX):

odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
i hate and i love. why i do this, perhaps you ask.
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
i know not, but i feel it happening and i am tortured.

catullus; a tribute to the odi et amo series here

bump! for epic justice

(self)quoted for truth: and in the end, we all might be disposable and replaceable. it's not a matter of how; that's quite irrelevant. it's simply a matter of when.

quoth the raven (XIX):

(...) because the possibility of freedom lies in the silence of what is never told.

j.p.coutinho; crappy translation by myself

rampage

any human being would be perfectly capable of going out on a killing spree. one just needs a reason able to generate enough rage to cloud the mind.

digital voyeur

and if we don't want to ask, we can always rely on the web 2.0 to find out. people really have no idea how much they are exposed nowadays.

ask

when we want to find out something, the best way to know something is to ask someone who knows what we want to know, without trully asking.

and after some hardcore posting, advertising from the blog's sponsors:

cigarrettes, alcohol and videogames. the most faithful friends one can have :)

tainted love

O

sometimes i feel i've got to run away,
i've got to get away
from the pain that you drive in the heart of me.
the love we share
seems to go nowhere.
i've lost my lights.
i toss and turn i can't sleep at night.

once i ran to you (i ran),
now i'll run from you.
this tainted love you've given,
i gave you all a boy could give you .
take my tears and that's not nearly all!
tainted love.
tainted love.

now i know i've got to run away,
i've got to get away;
you don't really want any more from me.
to make things right
you need someone to hold you tight.
you think love is to pray,
but i'm sorry i don't pray that way.

once i ran to you (i ran),
now i'll run from you.
this tainted love you've given,
i gave you all a boy could give you.
take my tears and that's not nearly all!
tainted love.
tainted love.

don't touch me please!
i cannot stand the way you tease...
i love you though you hurt me so,
now i'm going to pack my things and go.
touch me baby, tainted love...
touch me baby, tainted love...
touch me baby, tainted love
touch me baby, tainted love..!

once i ran to you (i ran),
now i'll run from you.
this tainted love you've given,
i gave you all a boy could give you.
take my tears and that's not nearly all!
tainted love...
tainted love...
tainted love...
tainted love..!

marilyn manson, tainted love [soft cell cover]

need or greed

now, and only now, it is all clear. and the truth is, you never quite loved me. you needed me. and that's completely different. you needed me to break the shadows of your self-imposed loneliness. you needed me, so you wouldn't drown. but once things started to change, once your loneliness started to break from the inside, i became useless. pointless. i wasn't even there any longer, so why on earth would you need me? you could even get someone new for my place, just as you did, because i was old and rusty and never-changing and no longer new. so i merely played the part of the mc keeping the crowd warm between the two major attractions on the tv show. so i was never meant to shine - only to glow for a while, until you found your way out of the darkness of your own making. and it was so obvious - i know of at least three things that will change from now on. three things you either never did or fiercely denied them. status, binding, introduction. deep inside, you are just like all the others. what is bad today is the best tomorrow.

gambling

s. enjoyed gambling with his boyfriend's feelings until the day he won the first roll.

alea iacta est

it may seem that i have fled, or that i'm not holding my keep any more, but that's far from the truth. i simply reached the point of no return. now, i will lead myself across the rubicon, and i'll do or die.

phylosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XVI)

when it's love you give, then in love you live. not always, my dear. not always. sometimes giving love only award you a slow trip through the seven spheres of hell. take it from me.

the root

i'm not fond of coincidences, but it has all gone too far. way too far. one time, it's ok. two times make me wonder. now, three times are the revelation.

it's in me.

recklessness

as long as the hatred lasts, i will stand my ground. when the hatred is over, i will fall through shadow and flame, and will struggle to survive. once the fire is out, i will be reborn from the ashes. once more.

earthquake

no alarms and no surprises:

i can't say i didn't see it coming.

waiting (II)

will it be this time?

a doubt

why on earth do the prices of plane trips change every single day for the same destination, in the very same days?

rerun

some movies are not worth to be seen even once, let alone twice or even more times.

tv shop

unfortunately, life isn't like those amazing late hour shows on the telly, where those hotshots sell wonderful blenders and dust cleaners an training machinery an crap alike saying "if you're not satisfied, we'll give your money back".

cold shoulder (II)

sometimes i have a feeling i end up getting a cold shoulder that was not meant to me. i should definetely learn to be an asshole sometimes.

on wait (III)

and, after waiting an endless night for the sun to rise, we wait again, for it to shine on us.

relief

i'm selfish enough to find relief in others' frustrations sometimes.

equilibrium

two things can only be balanced if both of them are interested in achieving that balance, and not in turning the tides to its own favour. and, truth be told, it's quite easy to create an illusion of equilibrium.

yes, i'm writing about fashion, and so what?

through the course of history, women have been taking over clothes that used to define a man. shirts. trousers. ties. shoes. nowadays, it's more rare to find a woman (a girl, whatever) wearing a skirt than trousers, or jeans. for example. the funny thing is, not even the tiniest bit of femininity was lost in this process. nothing was lost in translation, so to say. today's women, wearing jeans and shirts, are more sexy than ever*. they surely knew how to turn something masculine into something they could wear without ressembling a man. remarkable.

and it's more remarkable if we think that today, it seems men are trying to do the very same thing. well, some men. and it's funny, because men can't integrate women's fashion just like they did. and we all know the results.

*and before someone asks, yes, generally speaking i do prefer to see a girl wearing a skirt than jeans. that doesn't change the fact that nowadays, women are more sexy than ever, regardless of what they wear (or don't wear, mind you).

ashamed

should we feel ashamed of our past? if i were to answer quickly, i'd say no, we shouldn't. yet, a little wondering on the question makes me think twice. and the no turns into a yes. yes, we should, and yes, we feel. even if we haven't killed anyone, raped anyone, stolen anything. it doesn't matter. we grow up, and all of a sudden we are teenagers, and everything we used to do before seems childish and ridiculous. and then we think about it again, we are young adults, and all the stuff we did when we were teenagers seems childish and ridiculous. and so on, i guess.

i remember when i moved to my new home, in my village, four years ago. while i was gathering all my stuff, i stepped on my teenagers diary. you know, a little notebook (old school one, i had no computer back then) where i used to write on a daily basis a lot of things about whatever was happening to me. no, i never started a text by "dear diary" - that's so freaking lame -, as i never finished one by "truly yours" or something like that - even more lame. but the way i used to wrote, the things i wrote about, for fucks sake, it seemed so ridiculous that i felt ashamed by reading about things i felt once. i put it away, it's hidden, and i hope no one can ever find it. also, recently i deleted my first blog - called the darkside - for more or less the same reasons. and i'm considering the removal of my second one too, because somehow it feels old and childish, too.

so, is this like to feel ashamed? i think so. we are naturally ashamed of being ridiculous, aren't we?

resignation

can't help it, have to translate this. to the autor: forgive me the crappy translation.

we live a kind of lethal death: when we lose someone's friendship, or love, and the years go by and those things do never come back. it has, in a way, death's tactical accuracy: it is not mentioned, smells are but memories. and it's rhythm is a forgotten one: there was, once, a time when we did some things with those people. it remains, however, a fundamental difference from the "official" death: the other one - a friend, a mother, a brother (a lover) - is still among the living, and that takes from us the only relief time can ever give: resignation.

by filipe nunes vicente, in the blog mar salgado, who's been writing for several months the best series of posts in the portuguese blog universe, odi et amo.

care

if there is one thing i can't stand is people having pity on me. really. it's the worst thing one can feel about someone. still, it doesn't mean i hate when people care about me. those are different things. to be concerned, to care, feels nice, especially if one has any issue. and if one does have an issue, it's quite frustrating to see those who should care not giving a fuck about it.

uninspired

today i've ran out of inspiration. must be due to the huge ammount of bullshit i've been hearing since i woke up this morning.

the parts of the whole

they say that the whole is more than the simple sum of all its parts. well, sometimes one of the parts is more important than the whole itself, but still, generally speaking, i agree with this idea. so, the whole is made of its individual parts and the unique connections between them (and sometimes something else which, due to its evanescent nature, it's not easy to define). and if we want to evaluate the whole, we must see the whole picture; if we take into consideration only one of the parts (the one that interest us the most), our view of the whole will be biased, and we can bid the understanding farewell.

change

sometimes i'd like to be given some time to adapt myself to the changes around me. and to understand them. few things happen out of pure chance; there is always a reason, a why laying somewhere. and i'd like to find that why, to know why things happen, to understand the reasons that forced the changes. yet, i'm given no time. as if i were a mere spectator, watching everything with no control over anything.

it pretty much sums it up

and i kinda miss playing, really.

the sound of silence

silence is commonly defined as the absence or lack of noise. but how can it be so noisy sometimes?

loose

i don't know if it is a sign of anything, and i suppose i prefer not to know it.

to get used to

we never get used to some things, the same way that some things will always hurt us.

not to

i suppose there are things i'd rather not know about. not to have access to. not to understand. not to see. not to hear. not to have someone telling me or making me guess. not to feel, or even think i might eventually feel. unfortunately, i have to learn to live with all those things that kill me a little every day.

illusions and dellusions

il·lu·sion, noun: 1. something with deceptive appearance: something that deceives the senses or mind, e.g. by appearing to exist when it does not or appearing to be one thing when it is in fact another; 2. false idea: a false idea, conception, or belief about somebody or something; 3. deceptive power of appearances: the ability of appearances to deceive the mind and senses, or the capacity of the mind and senses to be deceived by appearances; 4. mistaken sensory perception: a misinterpretation of an experience of sensory perception, especially a visual one, where the stimuli are objectively present and the mistaken perception is due to physical rather than psychological causes.

de·lu·sion, noun: 1. false belief: a persistent false belief held in the face of strong contradictory evidence, especially as a symptom of a psychiatric condition; 2. mistaken notion: a false or mistaken belief or idea about something.

want and can

if we don't wanna do something, it's obvious we cannot do it. we find a way, no matter what, not to do it. or to do the minimum required, and nothing more. now, when we want to do something, we do it, regardless of what we find along the way. so do not come and tell me i can't do it followed by i don't wanna do it, because what it means is, you can't do it because you don't wanna do it, and so you put no effort on it. you don't even try, to begin with.

when it comes to this, it's really hard to do anything, really.

the little things

it's funny how we can know so much about someone for the most insignificant things.

chaos and order

i am, by nature, a chaotic person. no kidding; you should see my desk: papers with drawings, ideas, bills and works scattered all over the place, an ashtray that can no longer hold any more ash, let alone cigarrette tips (which are usually stored in empty beer cans left behind around the ashtray), ash all around the desk and the keyboard, and so on. not even going to describe the rest of the room. the funny thing is, i'm very organized, very methodic when it comes to my real work - the stories i write now and then. everything in my computer is thorougly organized in folders, each different story has an individual folder containing everything related to it (pictures, maps, topics, entire chapters... etc). even all the trash that prolliferates in my desktop like mould has folders, so to enforce some order in the chaos.

this to say that even in the most complicated chaos lies a seed (sometimes small) of order. and, of course, even in the most thorough of the orders there is a little chaos. get someone obsessively organized, and put something out of its place - you'll put his or her mind in a storm.

sophistication

my life is in short supply of sophistication, and i believe that's exactly what i need.

phylosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XV)

when you stand on the edge of an abyss, the only way to move forward is to take a step back. well, it depends if you have a parachute, really.

contingency

my love, nothing ever goes as we planned. and if it does, then something is wrong, and we're bound to know it really soon. the murphy laws explain it. and that's why someone came up with contingency plans. yet, as a contingency plan is also a plan, it's useful to have a contingency plan for the contingency plan. now does this make any sense?

the worst scenario

i'd like, at least once, to be able not to think about the worst scenario first. really. just for the hell of it.

minefield (II)

to be in love is to walk blindfolded on a minefield.

phylosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XIV)

i am socially unable to adapt. and aren't we all? margaret tatcher, the iron lady, said it right: there is no such thing as society. she knew what she was talking about.

math is overrated

i don't know whether that's good or bad, but life isn't ruled by logical and mathematical laws. so no matter how hard we try, two wrongs will never make anything right.

retribution

making is a mistake is human. to insist in that mistake (especially when we know it was a mistake) is just plain stupid. yet sometimes a mistake is rationally used as a weapon, as a way to hurt someone. and in that case it's not plain stupid, it's rather something carefully calculated with a purpose, aiming some effect.

just remember the hunting lesson. when one corners a wounded animal, it doesn't give up; it leaps on a vicious and desperate attack. i don't know how exactly do they call it, but i call it retribution. and i can tell it stings like fucking hell.

phylosophy out of a friend's messenger nickname (XIII)

sometimes we are judged by only one action. true enough; yet the trouble is not in being judged by only one action, for every action can be judged by itself. the trouble is, sometimes we are found guilty, and condemned, and damned, by only one action. and the rest simply doesn't come into the equation.

differences

i know individuals, by definition, are different among themselves. which make others seem them different, and act different. it's obvious. still, some differences are hard (if not impossible) to understand, and hardly justify different ways to deal with people. when it comes to me, i'd like to deserve it, but the thing is, i don't. honestly. as many other things in my life, i can't understand the difference. i can't understand what makes some people see me as different, and talk and act differently with me. i swear, i'd really like to know the reason for this.

wound (II)

and when the wounds hurt again, there's little we can do to ease the pain. we can only lay in the dark and wait for the pain to be gone.

wound

there are wounds that can never heal. they might allow us to live our lives, but from time to time they hurt, and they sting, as if they are saying that they are still there, and that whatever caused them cannot be forgotten.

the hierarchy of needs

according to abraham maslow's theory, the needs of the human beings are innate and are organized under a more or less rigid hierarchy. he used the famous pyramid to order them by their potency. so, in the bottom, we get the basic instincts of every living being. then we get safety instincts, belonging needs (relationships, basically), then esteem desires, and on the apex, the self actualization, the personal achievements and successes of the self. to be stable in one level implies that everything (or almost everything) is fulfilled on the level directly below. which seems logical: for example, if we have no physiological sex (fifth rank, below), we're bound to be frustrated in what comes to sexual intimacy (needs of belonging and love).

so the satisfaction of the needs is the key to health, growth and maybe even happiness, if such a thing is to exist.

pay the bill

i hate when i have to pay the bill of someone else's irresponsability. i really do. it's not that i'm a very responsible guy ('cause i'm not), but at least i try not to ruin anyone's plans in the process.

and then it'll be messy and dirty

i'm merely waiting for the shit to hit the fan one of these days.

cold shoulder

there are worse cold things to get than a cold shoulder.

small is beautiful

we are all small, my dear. we're nothing but dust of the stars. what makes us different is, we desire. we want more, we always want more.

misplaced

something curious about feeling 'misplaced' is how easy it is to make an ass out of ourselves. as a matter of fact, the only thing we need to do is do nothing.

hang-over

i know i'm under one hell of a hang-over when every little silly thing annoys the crap out of me, when i can focus even less than what i usually can, and when my eyes burn too damn much under the sun.

and when i have all the other known syntoms, of course.

paranoia (II)

the thing is, of all the things that can be lost between two people, the one that is hardest to restore is trust.

paranoia

par·a·noi·a, noun, 1. distrust: extreme and unreasonable suspicion of other people and their motives; 2. psychiatric disorder: a psychiatric disorder involving systematized delusion, usually of persecution.

bid them farewell

been there, saw the threads of the old life, and bid them farewell. if regret were to kill, i'd be dead and buried and rotting by now.

untold dream

i just hope the rest of the dream doesn't become real too.

point the finger

you can't ignore and forget all the shit you do only because someone else has done a mistake. one mistake. well, you can, as you can go and point the finger and blame the other, but what's the point?

waking thought

i'm sick and tired of this shit.

bleed

there are some wounds that we tried to ignore while they were still bleeding.

race

i kinda feel like losing the race in the very moment i started to run. and i kinda remember, it was not for this that i started to run in the first place.

hi-voyeurism

i've worked a lot about social networks recently. i really have. curiously, none of my articles featured hi5, the social site that have grown popular in this god forsaken country. first, i must say that i, too, have an account in there. ok, i'm guilty. but it's all written in english (surprise, surprise), and it doesn't feature any picture of myself. which, in turn, kept away a lot of boring people from my homeland, who don't recognize me as a pink alien with three eyes and four tentacles on the head. heh.

but i like to go there and peek at people's profiles. i really do. i know it's sheer voyeurism, but hey, it's funny to see what they write about themselves. and it's even funnier to watch their pictures. some gals i know, far from being some hotshots, present some pics that make anyone think they are good and ready for a good shagging. the sad thing is, maybe they are, and that might well be the only way to get it. another funny thing is the network of friends. i might not speak to someone for years and years, but oh my dear lord, if they spot me on hi-five, they think "hey, i know this guy, he's my friend". boom, friend request.

gladly, one can refuse.

what's the point of all this? have no fucking clue, to be honest. yet another pointless post, hum?

threads

the threads of the old life might be impossible to pick up again, but it might be nice to see how they are now.

late

sometimes i feel i'm always too damn late for something. lol.

out of sequence

i think my work is starting to tell me why my writing activities (other than this blog, which is chaotic by nature) have a tendency to fail - they have no sequence. i write something, let's say a chapter of a tale, today. and i have no freaking clue when will i write the next one. i might know the entire story in my head, all right, but maybe something is lost in between, i don't know. it's possible.

anyway. it's a royal pain in the ass to go to a conference, take my notes, do a lot of different stuff in the next two weeks (yes, two weeks), then get back, sit on the bloody computer and write about the conference. takes a lot of time to get started. and when i finally do it, something else needs to be done first. abandon the text, start doing another thing, get back to the conference. and the same, again and again. i can't make a sequence of the most uninteresting of the subjects. fuck it. what will happen is, i'll end up with a crappy test about it.

in other words, i need vacations.

the perfect truth

the perfect truth = one part truth, one part joke, two parts lie. you speak your mind, and no one notices. never fails.

change

i don't know if the big changes cause some little (and somewhat insignificant) details to change too, or if it is the change in those little details that herald the big change - i'm bad in timings, you know. still, it's quite funny to see how everything seems to be related sometimes.

a kind of misdirection

i wish i could put my mind into my work the same way i can take my mind out of my work and put it here on this blog.

surprising

it not that some people cannot surprise us. because they can. they always can. what happens is, sometimes they simply don't put any effort on it. and sometimes, we've grown too skeptical, to cynical, to believe that someone can still surprise us in a positive way.

bullshit

"ask yourself what you can do for your country, and not what your country can do for you". something like this. think it was kennedy (the american president) who said this - i'm not sure, though, and can't be arsed to google it right now. it's not really important to know who said such bullshit.

gear

working for "the common good" is good, very good, until the day the whole can no longer remember you as an individual part, and not just a replaceable gear in the engine. a gear have no satisfaction. no ambition. no desire. but you, as an individual part of the "common good"'s engine, you have desires. you have needs to be satisfied. you have ambitions. and once they are forgotten, you as a gear start failing. it's inevitable.

backfire

slacking is good when we're at it. definetely. it doesn't seem that great, though, when it backfires and brings the sky cracking on our heads.

bacon + pepperoni

if a relatioship is not stable enough to last, and if the end-of-relationship is unstable enough for it to re-start, in what shall we trust these days?

i vote in a bacon + pepperoni pizza.

choices, choices

marilyn manson, for a bit of ass-kicking in the moshpit, or nouvelle vague, for a cool live show?

they say that money doesn't bring happiness, but it simplifies a lot of choices.

make

time will tell if it is all a mistake, the same way time will make us forget we once thought it could all be a mistake if it isn't.

frightening

my dreams are becoming frightening real.

waste not, want not

and in the end, we all improvise.

make or break (II)

sometimes, we might well need to be childish to survive. we might well need to break our principles, to forget our values, to leave behind our beliefs. i know it all too well, even though it is a lesson that i never seem to learn.

on wait

have you ever considered how many time we waste on a daily basis waiting? just waiting, for something, for someone. we wait for the bathroom to be empty, and then for the shower to be warm. we wait for the "ding" on the microwave machine. for the bus, then for the tube, then for someone to bring us the bloody coffee that will keep us awake in a working morning. we wait for the computer to start, for the documents to open, for the will to work to come. for the lunch. for the evening. we wait for someone to give us a buzz, a kiss, a word of comfort. we wait for the dinner to be ready by itself, and it doesn't. and by the end of the day, when we finally lay down to rest, we wait for the sleep to come. and all this time wasted, and we always whining that we have no time for anything.

reason is overrated

reason matters little when we can't help but being driven by our most basic instincts.

restlessly

and sometimes we restlessly wait an entire day for some confort to our eyes that is never to come.

emote-free area

stuff like msn messenger and other software alike gets annoying sometimes. i don't hate it, mind you - might well be somewhat addicted to it, to be honest. but i hate those "emotes" that everyone uses to replace every word. you know, those ridiculous animated pictures trying (and failing) to be cute and funny and cool and all. the only one i can stand - actually i like it, because it's quite simple and neutral - is one that shelyra uses replacing "bye" (but she already knew this, didn't you?). now, i have some acquaintances and friends whose messages are barely impossible to read. i'm sorry, boys and girls, but i'm no longer 15. and i'm quite a conservative son of a bitch, as you all know (or should know by now). and my messenger is an "emote-free" area.

sometimes i feel like a fucking goldfish

but hey, am i supposed to remember something completely uninteresting i've seen three weeks ago?

remember, remember, the fifth of november...

v: i can assure you, i mean you no harm.
evey: who are you?
v: who? who is but the form following the function of what. and what i am is a man in a mask.
evey: oh, i can see that.
v: of course you can. i'm not questioning your powers of observation. i'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
evey: ...right.
v: but on this most auspicious of nights permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
v: voilà!
v: in view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. this visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi,now vacant, vanished. however, this valorous visitationof a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
v: the only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such, shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
v: verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you, and you may call me "v".
evey: are you, like, a crazy person?
v: i am quite sure they will say so.
(...)

v for vendetta, 2006

credits = ?

if i were to find a new credit, should i go and restart the game, or spend the coin on the candy shop instead?

pulse

i would, right now, change everything that could be changed and destroy everything that had to be destroyed in order to make things right. so we could be attuned, again. yet, as not all the pulses are possible to follow, i'll resume my work and wish you all a very nice weekend.

avaliable information

when someone comes and says "i have a feeling that you'll be fine soon", or "it's my intuition working", or "there's something for you, you'll see", or any bullshit alike, it's because they have more information than i do about things that affect me in some way that i cannot control. i believe in wild guesses and in intuition, mind you, but not in every circumstance with everyone.

make or break

make or break, but stop bending me.

because i've been listening to this song, and because it feels so damn right at the moment,

and because i am in need of some sort of placebo (dedicated song):

since we're feeling so anesthetised
in our comfort zone,
reminds me of the second time
that i followed you home.

we're running out of alibi's
on the second of may...
reminds me of the summer time
on this winter day.

see you at the bitter end.
see you at the bitter end.

every step we take that's synchronized,
every broken bone,
reminds me of the second time
that i followed you home.

you shower me with lullabies
as you're walking away;
reminds me that it's killing time
on this fateful day.

see you at the bitter end.
see you at the bitter end.
see you at the bitter end.
see you at the bitter end.

from the time we intercepted,
feels a lot like suicide
slow and sad, going sadder,
arise a sitting mine.
(see you at the bitter end)
i love to see you run around,
and I wanna see you now,
wannabees, arms wide out...
(see you at the bitter end)
let us reach inside,
grab the gentleness inside.
then I cried,
six months time.
see this trap of madness,
prepare the end.
(see you at the bitter end)

placebo, the bitter end, sleeping with ghosts, 2003 #5

civilization missed the flight (II)

continuation. and yet, the busy airport of frankfurt, in the civilized germany, is perhaps worse than lisbon's. i mean, for those who do not smoke, is all right. but for the smokers, there are some little glass cages that have space for like... three people standing (more turns the cage into some fucking tin), with poor ventilation. i swear, i felt like a fucking monkey in the zoo, or like a bloody freak on a freak show.

to make things worse, there was another portuguese inside (besides me and my friend). we are not safe anywhere.

late reply

and i believe you like me. i really do. unfortunately, that is not enough for me.

are you smiling at me, buddy?

there is always one more way down

no matter how bad are the things we say, we can do worse. always.

grave

but anyway, since it is the day of the dead, if anyone would be so kind and leave some flowers in my grave it would be really appreciated. it feels kinda empty.

the day of the dead

the day of the dead is probably the only holiday worth celebrating. we remember the ones who left us and praise the fact that we are still here, sometimes doing well, sometimes lingering around like a ghost, but alive none the less.