blind faith

sometimes we cannot rely on trust or wisdom to keep our world to collapse on us. sometimes the only choice we have is to follow a blind faith.

truth be told, it's merely a matter of modal verbs

the fact that we can do something doesn't mean we must do it. nor does it mean that we should do it. it merely means that we can. and sometimes the best thing we can do is not to do what we can.

now i understand what my high-school english teacher meant when she said modal verbs were tricky.

backbone

there are many things that i despise and yet i can stand liars, for example. everyone lies, and i'm no exception to it (i mastered the art of lying to my parents, but parental lies are a need, not a sin). i can stand dishonesty. i can stand having someone trying to screw me up in every possible way. fuck me, but face me. what i cannot stand is people without backbone. people without guts. people who don't care, people who like to mess with me, while they cannot stare back at me and say they despise me as i despise them.

people without guts and backbone should be treated just as the vermins they are: crushed and wiped away. maybe one day i'll get my hands dirty and do it myself.

an interesting thought

there is no such thing as innocence. only degrees of guilt.

- unknown author

on bullshit

the ammount of bullshit we can listen in only ten minutes is astonishing.

plain stupid

i don't know if what i say and do is not clear for those around me, of if those around me are simply plain stupid. but sometimes i kinda believe the truth lies in the latter.

wake up to call the nightmare

some days going wrong even before we fall asleep. and when we wake up, they can only get worse. oh well. still nine hours to go 'till midnight. guess i'll focus my energies in staying alive.

on people (II)

i like old people. i really do. i remember once, in a long trip back home, the most interesting conversation i've had with an elder, whose hair was white as a snowfield and whose eyes were as deep as darkness beyond us. he had no studies, not as i or most people around my age have. yet he had a life, a long life of experience and valuable knowledge that lies in no book. he had build ships, he told me, in this big shipyard in south africa. and there was nothing that he liked more than ships, sailing through the ocean. he took one, once, to come back to europe. yet he didn't come to work, but to fight, for the world war two was laying waste across the old continent. i was astonished to hear this, to know a portuguese man who fought the war when his nation declared neutrality. for a moment, i thought he was mistaken - but the stories he told me shown no mistake at all. i never saw him again. i don't know if his hair is still white, if his eyes are still deep or if his hands are still shaking like falling leaves blown by the autumn wind. but i'd really like to see him again.

today i met someone inspiring, to say the least (who triggered the memories above). an old journalist with a refined sense of humour, an astonishing knowledge about pretty much everything, and a conversation that can be anything but boring. most people that know me have heard me saying many times that i don't want to get old - what i mean is, i don't want to be a burden to anyone, nor do i want to end my life in pain and despair. but if i get to the age of 80 or something like that, i'd like to be like both these gentlemen: to have a great sense of humour and many stories to tell. and to have someone who would care to listen to me.

on people (I)

no matter how pessimist we are, no matter whether we believe in the human beings or not: people will never cease to surprise us in the best possible ways.

whining

this is not entirely true, but still: we are what we want to be, and our life is want we want it to be. yes, there are things beyond our reach and circumstances that we cannot change. but there is a lot that we can do - and there are many things needing our immediate attention, if not action. we can go on complaining and trying to forget by all the means we have, but that won't change anything - it will only make our waking up more bitter every morning. if we cannot change something, we must learn from it, so we can adapt and eventually turn the situation to ourselves. if we can change it - hell, what are we waiting for? is it wise to keep the whining?

don't try it at home

and no, i'm not referring to the instant messaging application, but to the portal. there are some interesting features on it, but today they featured the most interesting article, about things we, men, should never do when we have a woman with us. allow me to give you some insights:

1. clean your gun: why on earth would someone clean a gun if one has a lady with him? unless it refers to another gun, cleaning a gun gives the lady the right to take it and blow his head off. the head on top of the neck, mind you.

2. check out her assistant, roommate or baby-sitter: forget about it. do it, but make sure neither of them notice. unless, of course, you're bold enough to ask them for a threesome - and if they're bold enough to play along.

3. blow-dry our air: this shouldn't be done by any man in any circumstance. period.

4. forget to carry cash: unless she's a millionaire, of course.

5. flip it, flop it, swing it around, tug on it, adjust it, scratch it, or do anything that will remind us that it's just a goofy appendage and not a mystical source of pleasure and satisfaction: if you do any of these items, you deserve the lady to take the gun from topic 1 and fire at will to your mystical source of pleasure and satisfaction, so it would not even be a goofy appendage.

6. tell us you're going to kiss us. (just get on with it!): she said it all, really. just get on with it.

and the list goes on. check it, it's quite funny.

vanished

have anyone ever wondered what happened to those people who come into our life by chance and vanish without a trace?

nightmare

definition of nightmare: with windows messenger, you open a chat window to talk with your girlfriend. chat windows are personal, as you know. now, you were supposed to be talking with your girlfriend, and you are talking to her, but windows messenger bugged and instead of her picture, it shows the picture of a friend of yours - but not any friend. rather a friend with whom you have some "old stories" and the last person you'd like to date, let alone to have for girlfriend. in other words, your recurring nightmare of love, the person that would make you hesitate if both of you were the last people alive in the world.

i tell you, this threatened to ruin my day. now i'm going to have lunch. with a great dessert in the end - cheesecake, please.

mediocrity

it's still beyond me how people can praise mediocrity as if it was the best thing in the world.

exhausted

there are issues so old and so exhausted that it's pointless to bring them back. if their absense means sorrow, their ressurection would only bring pain and grief. let them be dead.

things that i hate

i hate when i see a "private number" calling me on my cell phone. a long time ago, before the time when everyone could have a cell phone, people complained because they had no way to know who was calling them to their fixed phone. not they do not identify themselves when calling someone else. my landlady told me one, during one of our arguments (not positive ones, mind you), that she had the right not to disclose her phone number when giving someone a buzz. of course, i replied, just as i have the right not to answer if i do not know who is calling, or if i don't get a phone number to call back. and actually i don't. especially since the marketing departments of the operators started to call the costumers in private calls. to hell with them.

heavy metal machine

there is something curious about my music preferences. most people i know tend to think that i'm all for metal. okay, i often dress in black, with steel-toe boots and all that. all right, i love a good mosh, and i like metal (or rather heavy music) quite a lot. and the fact that i wake up every morning with my computer playing slipknot, slayer, sepultura and pantera doesn't really help my reputation. and i assume that one of the best gigs i've ever seen in my entire life was slayer - boy, that was insane, to say the least. yet my favourite bands have little to do with metal. as a matter of fact, the only metal band i've ever considered my favourite band was system of a down, and even though their sound is definetely heavy, it's a bit off metal). if i go all the way back, the bands i've once considered my favourites were oasis, smashing pumpkins, and muse (with radiohead always around).

still, i kinda like the metal stereotype. it is funny, to be honest.

and now i'm flattered

really flattered. just got a love mail! well, it missed valentine's day for seven days, but hey - it's a love mail. i haven't got such a thing since... since.... well, it doesn't matter, we don't want me to feel depressed again, do we?

the mail is from julia. note that i don't know any julia, but i'm sure she is a lovely girl. hello. i don't really know how to start writing this e-mail. aaaw, she's shy - and i love shy girls (usually they are not shy at all when it comes to the bed department). i kinda feel embarrassed to talk to you by e-mail, to open myself to you, to tell you how i feel about you. but it was the only way i've found to do it without getting myself hurt again. so this means i've hurt such a nice girl? i'm really a bastard. i swear that you're all that i have ever dreamed about in my entire life. i love being with you. i'm sure you do, sweetheart, i'm sure you do. i've made this animation with some photos of us, i hope you like it... you'll be mine, all mine. i love you. and she sent me the link to the file.

spammers are getting romantic. how cute. it's a shame they aren't getting any smarter.

war

the worst wars are fought at home.

i know i have no children yet and all

but i have a long and somewhat arduous experience of being a son, so i guess that qualifies me to say what i'm gonna say. parents usually say that they only want the best for their children, but most of times that's nothing but hypocritical bullshit - forgive me the rough way i'm putting it. the best for their children is to learn at their own expenses, and especially to make mistakes, many mistakes. what parents want for their children is not what's best for them, it's rather what they think it's best for them. and there is a huge difference there.

quoth the raven (XXVI):

those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.

benjamin franklin

and that's exactly what is happening nowadays, and yet most people fail to see it. liberty for safety is an uneven trade simply because no one is going to give liberty back to the citizens once they're "safe".

ceilingwatching

we shouldn't leave our bed by the morning in some days. like today, for example. sun shines and then it starts to rain. and then the sun comes back again. the wind blows and chills - now and then. it's all so melancholic. today it would be a perfect day to linger at home, alone, devoted to the noble activity of "ceilingwatching". just for a change.

inner beauty my ass

inner beauty is what really matters. this bullshit was invented by beautiful people who wanted to be sympathetic with the ugly. it's as simple as that. especially for guys, mind you. i could be the most interesting guy in the world (which i'm not, but let's stick to the theory); i'd still have twice the trouble into pulling out a girl if compared with one of those hot-shot types. so inner beauty matters little when it comes to flirting, dating and even getting laid.

in the long run, however, things might be different, but that's a different story.

the annoying thing

some things are simply annoying, and there's nothing we can do about them. well, there is something that can't be done, but often the price is too high.

challenge

replying to shelyra's challenge (thanks, dear):

musics on my computer: i'd say a little bit of everything, it depends on the way we see the question. if the answer is about music genres, then i'd say that hard rock, metal and gothic prevail, even though i have a little bit of almost everything - techno, house, opera (yes, opera), rock, pop, and bad music in general terms. however, if the question is about singers and bands, then muse, oasis, system of a down and blasted mechanism are on the top.

last cd that i've bought: can't quite remember. it has been quite a long time ago. the last cd i was given was collision course, by linkin park. and the last cd i have copied (lol) was deliverance to earth, by atlanthea (the one-man-band of my good friend rodrigo).

music i'm listening right now: right now, i'm working (booooring), and i'm listening a recorded interview, and copying it to a text document. in other words, a royal pain in the ass. however, if i could be listening to music, i would be listening to endlessly, by muse.

favourite genres: i'm rediscovering the late seventies and the eighties. therefore, joy division and the smiths are now a constant presence on my mp3 player. i really like that kind of musics, most of them older than me. anyway. for a gig, my favourite kind of music is heavy metal, and a good moshpit. i like a bit of everything, but above all, i like well played music. to give you an example: jack johnson is good, the guy sings okay and plays decently. but he is frankly overrated. he's a good musician - but compare him to tom yorke, from radiohead, or matthew bellamy, from muse. those are different kinds of musics, you might say. true, they are, but still - the way jack plays and sings, many others could play and sing. but yorke and bellamy are unique in their style - and they are the best. jack johnson entertains, amuses, and you have a nice time listening to his songs. radiohead and muse get into your hearts, trigger emotions. and that's all about talent. so i like talented musicians and talented bands, that's all.

okay, it's done. passing it over to angie (again) and alice (again).

quoth the raven (XXV):

it has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues.

abraham lincoln

the castle in the swamp

father: one day, lad, all this will be yours!
herbert: what, the curtains?
father: no, not the curtains, lad. all that you can see! stretched out over the hills and valleys of this land! this'll be your kingdom, lad!
herbert: but, mother--
father: father, i'm father.
herbert: fut father, i don't want any of that.
father: listen, lad. i've built this kingdom up from nothing. when i started here, all there was was swamp. all the kings said i was daft to build a castle in a swamp, but i built it all the same, just to show 'em. it sank into the swamp. so, i built a second one. that sank into the swamp. so i built a third one. that burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. but the fourth one stayed up. an' that's what your gonna get, lad - the strongest castle in these islands!
herbert: but i don't want any of that - i'd rather-
father: rather what?!
herbert: i'd rather... just...
[music]
...sing!
father: stop that, stop that! (...)

in monty python and the holy grail, scene 26: the tale of sir launcelot.

twelve words

four years blogging, and i'm only half-professional. i say half because i believe i've got enough quarrel and drama on my blogs during the last year: the recent ones here, and a very amusing argument with someone from my homeland about the local government's lousy works (in another blog, no longer published). now, to be a complete blogger, i need only to have someone passing over to me one of those chains that we reply in a post, and then pass the challenge to someone else. life's unfair.

anyway, i'm taking over a very popular one that's roaming free on the portuguese blog world. i'm starting here - i have to say my twelve favourite words. the reasons for them to be favourite are not important, i believe, but one can always explain them. so, here it goes:

1) endlessly - i like the way it sounds, really.
2) indeed - quite a charming way to reafirm something.
3) wyvern - same as 1, and it reminds me a very nice m:tg game card.
4) parallax - 'l' is a beautiful sound, isn't it?
5) whirlwind - it is.
6) bleak - indeed.
7) ancient - a respectful and meaningful way to say old.
8) scratch - it sounds funny. and it reminds me of scrat, the sabertooth squirrel disaster of ice age.
9) sybil - back to the 'l' - thank you, mrs. vinge, for this one!
10) underworld - self-explanatory for anyone who knows a little of myself.
11) mushroom - it also sounds funny.
12) piggyback - the things we learn by translating articles on information technologies.

done. now i pass it over to shelyra, alice and angie. in portuguese, of course - i'll do the same on my other world.

retribution

once in a blue moon, life allows us the attonement that only an unexpected retribution can deliver.

c.s.i.

horatio (showing a 9.mm gun wrapped in a transparent plastic bag): do you recognize this gun, mr. callahan?

callahan: y-yes, that's my gun, i recognize it.

horatio: and you're aware that this was the murder weapon? the weapon who killed that girl in your living room?

callahan: yes, but it wasn't me.

horatio: and where were you in that night, when she was shot?

callahan: at home, watching television.

horatio: at home, watching television. so you're trying to convince me, mr. callahan, that you were at home, watching television, while a girl was murdered in your living room with your gun and it wasn't you?

callahan: yes. it wasn't me. i'm innocent.

horatio: and you don't know who did it?

callahan: no, i don't. and i say it again, i'm innocent.

horatio: you might be. yet the evidence tells a different story.

(mind you, this is pure fiction)

watch your tongue, lad

says an old lady, offended by a loud fuck i let go in the street. sure, said i, sure i can watch my fucking tongue, lady. boy, she was pissed.

i blame the telly. it so wants to reproduce the real life, but no one swears in the shows. that's so lame. yes, i know all that yada yada about showing some respect to old people, but that won't keep me from saying what i want the way i want.

things we find out

well, thanks to all the drama below, i've discovered something curious. the statcounter i've installed to track my visitors shown me that i have some readers in the united states and in france. funny.

denial

denial is one of the most predictable human reactions.

flood

and now, the blog can finally resume its regular activities. had my little village on the telly last night, in a new debate program on the public channel. it was about big floods, and i remember all too well the floods on my homeland eleven years ago, in the evening of november the fifth.

remember, remember, the fifth of november...

i remember a storm powerful as probably no other that i've seen in my entire life. i remember leaving odemira in the bus, it was raining pretty heavily already. i remember the streams along the way running wildly and threatening the bridges along the road - in that road, no bridge was left standing when the rain was over. i remember arriving at my village's downtown, and my mother there, waiting for me, telling me to call a friend of mine who lived in the countryside. he had to stay with me that night, because the flood had already cut the access to his home. i remember walking home under rain and wind and lightning. i remember power going off, not to return in the next days.

fortunately, my home was not affected by the rain or the flood. yet i remember leaving home in the following morning and going downtown. and it seemed that we had been bombed or something like that. there was mud and debris all over the place. shops were thoroughly destroyed by the force of the water. cars were smashed against concrete walls. and concrete walls went down. seeing the images of the wreackage was good and weitd at the same time. good because now i know how we got over it. weird because the images brought back a memory that no one who were there in that evening will ever forget.

late reply and introduction to the science of IP

[warning: wall of text below]

no, mate, i haven't ran out of arguments. as a matter of fact - and forgive me the arrogance - i don't think i'd ever ran out of arguments with someone like you. i've simply opted to spend my weekend with my girlfriend and away from the internet. which makes sense, considering that her company is far more appealing than the company of someone annonymous in the blog world, wouldn't you agree?

now look. i could come and tell that you've never been in my homeland so you can't really tell. i could tell you that you've no idea how is life in the countryside, and that you strike me as one of those city-born folk who think that everyone who was born in the country is half-wild while they, the self-proclaimed elite, have never seen a real sheep in their entire life. i could tell you that globalization has anything to do with what's going on with the portuguese countryside, and that our problem is another one: it lies on education, and it explains why ireland some years ago was a rural half-developed country and now is the strongest economy in europe. i could tell you that compliance with the new communitary rules is killing our tradictional products for modernization's sake, while we fight against modernization in other sectors that really need it (industry and agriculture, for example). last, but not least, i could tell you that the european union is not a complete part of globalization, but rather a protectionist market that is quite responsible for some human misery in the so-called third world.

i could say all this, and you wouldn't care simply because it wouldn't match your mindframe. that's why i have something far more interesting to tell about you.

i found it quite curious that all the page views i have on the blog on the exact time your comments are posted are the same. how do i know that? your ip (internet protocol) address tells me that. like most bloggers nowadays, i have a way to track some information about my visitors: i know their ip, where are they from, where did they come from, and the nearest base station. hell, i can even know their operative system, their screen resolution and the browser they're using.

you should remember that the internet is not a safe place, especially for amateurs. mind you, i include myself among the amateurs, even though i'm probably more aware than most people about security issues due to my job. as i know some solutions as well.

now, another curious fact, peter: you and maggie share the same ip address. and while most isp nowadays provide dynamic ip - meaning, they are randomly generated and allocated, and refreshed within a time span -, maggie's ip address appears to be static, for it hasn't changed since friday. so this brings me to three possible explanations:

1) you've hacked her account - too unlikely for me to believe.

2) you are her personal acquaintance and used her computer to send the comments - and this would prove that she lied when she told in her blog that she didn't know you; also, this would prove that both of you have "cooked" the discussion and some personal attacks that i've found rather amusing.

3) you and maggie are one and the same person. and since i know her personally, "peter" is nothing but an alias, an avatar she created or used to fuel the discussion and to be able to say some things that she wouldn't otherwise.

after all the time in the internet, i say the option 3 is the correct one. ip addresses don't lie, after all.

the reasons for this behaviour are unknown to me - and to be quite honest, i prefer not to know them, since i would probably have to get personal to explain them. i can't understand how someone have patience to make such a scheme, especially when there's nothing to win with it. you know that you can't change my mind, my ideas. and you should know that it takes much more for me to feel bad about blog flaming. i really don't know what you've earned with all this, but i hope it was something good enough to justify.

next time, however, try not to hide under ridiculous avatars. in the end, this machination of yours says more about you than me. anyway, thanks for putting my rethoric and investigation skills to the test. i really believe that i've succeeded in both.

and this is the last thing i'll say about this subject. it really pleases me to discuss most of subjects, being politics one of my favourite topics. i love a good argument. and mind you, it's really easy for someone to change my mind - as long as they're smarter than me and their arguments make more sense. yet i prefer to do it with real people, and not with someone who hides behind a nickname. i'm sorry. i'm individualist, remember? i believe people must stand for what they believe. if one is confident that one's views are the right ones, then one should stand for them - not hide. if one can't do it.... well, cowardice is quite common anyway, isn't it?

on sacrifices

we never like the idea of walking with our head high through the same streets where we have been dragged in shame across the muddy floor. still, some sacrifices must be made, so i guess i'm as ready as i will ever be.

dynamic ip

no one's privacy is safe on the internet. if a dumbass like me can discover, with little investigation and little trouble, the secrets of some ip addresses, then i wonder what can a skillful hacker do.

actually i don't wonder, since i have to write about the subject on a daily basis. believe-me - it's freaking scary.

hi·lar·i·ous

hi·lar·i·ous, adjective: very amusing, extremely funny.

like the following blog's post. go check it out:

[global warming kills nessie]

and don't forget to read the comments. i laughed really loud with this one:

i’m still waiting for “santa’s north pole home" sinks into the ocean due to global warming …. elves left homeless.”

pure brilliance.

curiosity

sometimes we just need a little spark to change some "principles" and do something we always refused to. and curiosity is indeed a powerful fuel to set it ablaze.

and no, this has nothing to do with sex.

start a revolution

[warning: huge wall of text below]

i'll sum it up. in the blog of my friend maggie took place one of the most interesting and amusing discussion. it started about barack obama and hope for america, and ended talking about anything but it. it envolved me, maggie, and two other people identified as 'peter' and 'grace'.

i played the bad guy. of course. flaming for the win. yet i feel i was misread in several occasions.

i assume myself as conservative, pessimist and selfish. conservative because i believe that some values can not be forsaken and are above everything - namely, the human life. ironically enough, this very same standing makes me think that medical technologies like cloning, for example, should be studied and followed. or that cloned embryos should be studied due to the regenerative abilities of their cells. and again, because of the lifes that could be saved by cloning organs, regenerating lost limbs or healing lethal diseases. so you see, i'm conservative, yet not an amish. i'm quite liberal as well, as a matter of fact. if there is one thing that i believe in, is in the individual. i'm pessimist because that's the only way to keep my sanity. you can say it's a defensive stance, and i would kinda agree with that. pessimism, however, does not keep me from following my ambitions and doesn't make me fall in disbelief. it simply reminds me all the time that things can go wrong, terribly wrong. finally, i'm selfish because i believe in the individual. quoting ayn rand, the smallest minority is the individual. those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities. mankind will have no rights whatsoever if the individual lose its rights for it - mankind is made of individuals, after all. so you see, it's not about praising social differences and gaps, it's not about wishing everyone to burn in hell, it's not about not be willing to help the next one. it has nothing to do with that. misreading for the win.

i do not see violence and war as something good, rather as something necessary. and let's face it, to fight is in our nature. it's embedded in our genetic code since the dawn of the world. for god's sake, we've been fighting each other since we left the caves. now, our rationality makes us think different and try to avoid open war. okay, nothing wrong with that. yet sometimes we simply run out of options. anti-war speeches doesn't appeal to me. especially since most of nowadays' so called 'pacifists' whine about iraq and israel, but keep their mouths shut about darfur. yes, darfur. do you know where it is, or what's going on there? most people don't. and the reason is, you can't blame the americans or israel for that slaughter. it involves no american, no economical interest, no oil; thus, it's not fashionable. threfore, no media coverage, no angry speeches on prime time. bloody hipocrisy.

i stand for less state interfering on citizens' lives. on that regard, i think i'm liberal. some people praise the welfare state. well, if you ask me, welfare state should be kept, but on a minimum level, only to help those who really need it (who, ironically, are often the ones fucked up by the same welfare state that was supposed to care about them). the state spends millions in the welfare thing; it would do better if all that money were to be fairly distributed by everyone instead, allowing each citizen to chose its doctor, the school for their kids, and so on. people must understand that healthcare and education would work much better if they were considered a service, and not a right. as we stand now, we allow doctors to me incompetent and education to be lousy. and we whine and whine, but the situation does not change.

also, i don't like to have the state interfering in every aspect of my personal life. the state must provide justice, security, minimal services and that would be enough. could provide education and healthcare, but on a different model as i explained above. enough. i don't want the state telling me i can open a vegan restaurant, but not a restaurant where my costumers can't smoke indoors. i don't want the state to tell me that i can't smoke, drink my scotch, eat my chips because it's bad for my health. no, i don't want to have the fucking state watching over my health at all. i don't want to have any fucking enlightened bureaocraut telling what i can give my kids to eat or not. hell, i don't want to be watched by a videocamera in every move i make, and i don't want the state, one day, to come and tell me how should i fuck my girlfriend/wife/lover/whatever. what i want is the right to make my own choices, no matter if they lead me towards a great success or a major mistake. and i want to handle the responsability and the consequences of both my successes and my failures. i'm tired of moral statements, i'm tired of watching the state trying to lurk into every aspect of our lives. i'm pissed for tradicional food products to be risking extintion because the sometimes century-old methods of their making are now being banned for the sake of public health. they are not secure for the health, the bureaucrats say. fuck the bureaucrats. what the hell do they know about it? it's not their damn business.

and - supreme heresy - i'm in for globalization. boys and girls from the cool left wing, i'm sorry to be the herald of the bad news, but the globalization become inevitable when the first portuguese ship left our shores more than five hundred years ago. and no, it won't make every individual equal. globalization allows us to trade at a scale never possible before, to get more information than what we can actually learn, to be in touch with people from so many different countries, cultures and religions. globalization appeals to our creativity and adaptability. okay: as the world gets smaller and bigger at the same time, we have to struggle to retain our individuality, to adapt ourselves to a world that changes faster than ever before. but from that struggle will emerge a better human being, since we are given far more options and possibilities to express ourselves.

and you know what? i'm tired of empty words, of meaningless speeches. to say something pretty ain't difficult. to mean something, on the other hand, is quite hard. i'm damn tired to live in a society that does not push us to be better, even to be the best. merit, excellence, have been thoroughly banned from the political speeches nowaday. we're all (supposed to be) equal, after all; how can anyone be better than anyone? so we live under false modesty, and if we dare so raise our voice and say out loud that we're good, we are automatically labeled as arrogant brats, as self-centered sons of a bitch, even if we are indeed good. nowadays kids learn shit. schools are chaotic. subjects like the holocaust or the crusades are being removed from the history books because some people can be culturally or religiously offended. for fucks sake, insanity has definetely taken over. those who deny the holocaust should speak to the american and russian soldiers who broke into auschwitz.

so yes, i'm full of anger and i could make a revolution right now. pity simply can't make me move for it, though, especially when there is so much more at stake. to care about how miserable are the others is very beautiful and noble. as a matter of fact, i know a lot of people who really care. however, i know few people who actually do something about it. act local. act local. act local. it's not that i don't care. it's not that i don't give a shit about it. i simply don't wave that battle standart on the morning wind when i'm not doing that much about it.

and yes, i'm pessimist. does that mean i don't fight for what i believe? no, it doesn't. does that mean i have no dreams or ideals? no, not at all. i have a lot, if you ask me. but i don't believe in the world, because the world is not something to believe in. i believe with what's possible, and what's impossible i keep for my dreams while i sleep.

and that's pretty much all about me. happy valentine's day.

death and taxes

in life, one can be sure of two things only: death and taxes.

about anything else we can't be sure, we're left with wild guesses, thoughts and beliefs. i, for one, believe that violence is not something to be proud of, but it's sadly necessary sometimes. and i believe that human beings are not equal. they must all have the same righs, but cannot be treated the same way. we are individuals, and as such, must be considered individually. and oportunities are not free. everyone should be granted the same "access" to opportunities, but to get them should imply merit, excellence. we must deserve what we get.

there is too much whining out there, if you ask me.

to fix

something might work as indended, or even pretty well for most of time, and yet collapsing now and then. yet the break down is not like forever, see? it's just for a while... then everything gets back up. now is it worth fixing?

quoth the raven (XXIV):

there are three kinds of people in this world: the wills, the won'ts and the can'ts. the first accomplish everything; the second oppose everything; the third fail in everything.

unknown author.

the elephant man

in lisbons' downtown, by one of the most famous cafés of the city, dwells the elephant man - he has a very rare disease that turned his face into a chunk of rotting meat. i remember the first time i saw him; the feeling of my entrails revolving comes back when i think of it. that man, however, could be cured. over the time, several doctors and surgeons - national and international - offered to treat him for free, since he's a homeless, and has no way to afford treatment. yet he refused. the reason: the treatment implied a blood transfusion, and apparently it's against his religion to do. recently, however, an english doctor offered him a new treatment, that does not imply a transfusion. i don't know whether the elephant man will accept it or not.

even so. i can't pity him. okay, he has a rare condition that i wish for no one, not even for the ones i hate the most. yet he had the opportunity - several opportunities - to be cured and try to have a normal life. and he refused because "it's against religion". fuck religion, for god's sake. i'd never help a man like this one - miserable by his own choice, because as long as people pity him, he won't have to care about anything.

it's not the only one like this that i know, unfortunately. life is hard, the world is a tough place to live in. i've met many people whose misery was self inflicted, for as long as they passed as miserable, people would do anything. one of them almost drove me insane five summers ago. i can hardly fee pity on anyone, let alone folk who chose the easiest way like this.

illusions of grandeur

think global, act local. it's a nice slogan. shame most people can't see it while they are so lost in concerns about the human misery and the social gaps the world has. because it's so easy to help the guy next door. it's so easy to bring a smile to someone's face with something so little and yet so full of meaning, so full of intentions. but this is the way we live our lives: we argue about the perfect world that is never to come, while never caring about changing the little chunk of earth that lies around us. we call for the world to change, but we do nothing to change what's within our reach. we say that society is wrong, but the society is ourselves, and we are so obsessed with the society's problems that we forget the ones around us. we want to make a big difference, and we complain that we cannot. we could, however, make a little difference. but alas, we don't.

zeros and ones

the funny thing about the internet world is, people seldom are what they seem to be. and we can seldom see beyond the binary code. so it's easy to make assumptions and moral judgements. sometimes i'm left to wonder what would some people think if they could see the true colours of reality instead of zeros and ones.

the bottom line

the bottom line, however, is: i don't hate myself and my life as much as i pretend to. i mean, i hate it and i love it. it destroys me on a whim and brings me back to life with a heartbeat. it kills me every day, and everyday i am reborn. the problem with the choice lies there: i've seen the alternative way before. i lived there for eighteen bloody years - and a part of me is still burioed there. and returning there now.... i don't know, it'd feel as if i'm taking one step back, and not one step further.

change

i don't mind taking risks. i actually like to do it. to challenge myself. i just don't like this choice, and the risks it implies: i'm stuck in my life at the moment, and i hate it with a passion, but following the alternative path might not be my brightest idea. okay, financially speaking it can't be worse (and if is, there is no choice whatsoever), and it will probably much better. but does it make it up for everything - and everyone - i'd leave behind? would it really be a good change, or just a silly mistake? and this time it won't be neutral. no, this time it will be like it was before, when it was time for another great change: there will be pressure, there will be threats, there will be blackmail.

lay of the land

i'm walking on familiar territory, and yet i act as if i've stepped into the unknown. it shouldn't be like this. i've known the lay of the land for a long time - for too long, if you ask me, and better that i would probably need. and i don't know why i keep walking the same roads i walked before, why i keep drinking water in the same plagued fountains, or picking up the same rotten fruits to eat.

whirlwind

some things can never come back, as they are lost in the spiral of time. entire worlds can be left behind in the whirlwind. ethereal memories vanished, artifacts of the old buried forever. sometimes we wish things to be different, we wish them to be back. and yet sometimes we're glad that's something impossible.

endless

some of the best debates i've ever had were about religion and the existence of god. by the time i was more a believer than what i am now (now i simply don't care), and my friend didn't believe at all. there is a deep respect between us, which means no one was trying to "evangelize" the other in any way, just sharing and discussing ideas.

it's an endless discussion, religion. to be honest, most of the subjects can provide an endless debade if the discussion is rational and civilized. and those are the best ones. to stop the debate by saying "it's pointless, this could go on like forever" means only that we wanted to make the other change his or her mind, and was unable to. to "evangelize", however, is not to teach.

readers' blog: liquid bones

(this title shows very little light on the following words)

the first thing i really need to explain you about is quite dramatic (let me put it as honest as it gets): mankind is a complex problem of the world. you believe poetry is some sort of an answer to your pain and end up facing the very truth: that's an enormous lie! now you're probably saying this doesn't make any sense (can hear you from here). it's quite similar to god, actually. you want to stop pain to run through you as if it was your blood, but no poem will save you (believe me, i'm sick, got loads of books talking to each other on my desk and ain't feeling any better). that's why this problem i've first told you about has no solution.

god is a complex problem.

special guest star: alice

(thank you so much for the wonderful text, dear; and forgive me for the slacking)

on hope

hope is a luxury cheap to afford but rather expensive to keep.

conservative

a friend of mine asks me in whom would i vote if i were american: hillary clinton or barack obama. and she's shocked when i reply "in none of them; were i american and i'd vote in mccain". "what?", she asked, incredulous. "you'd vote in the republicans? do you want more war, more bloodshed?"

now, this brings us back to the war in iraq. and no one apparently can answer me these questions:

1) if there were no mass-destruction weapons in iraq, why was saddam hussein trickin the u.n. inspections led by hans blix? if he had nothing to hide, why was he making a fool out of the u.n.? the united nations need no help on that department; as institution, it's pretty good in making a fool out of itself.

2) while saddam was in power, there was no was in iraq. small wonder; the guy killed anyone who sneezed against him. really, does anyone miss a tyrant like that?

even if the democrats - obama or hillary, no matter - win the ellections, the war in iraq won't be over. and if they decide to withdraw america's armies from there, they will be more irresponsible that the ones who started the war.

besides, the real change that both obama and hillary bring is based in the obvious differences - he is black, she is a woman. in this regard, senator mccain is quite different: a veteran hero of war, one who understands better than any other candidate what's at stake in iraq, and in the international context. he's somewhat coherent, and appears to be a nice guy. and he's not getting any votes because of his genital organs or his skin colour - every vote that mccain gets is due to his personality and his ideas. so it wouldn't really be a hard choice for me.

besides, i'm a conservative guy, even though most of my friends tend to forget that detail.

pop-corn

just to say that on the right links, under the reflections sign, there is a new blog: the deviant art web page of pipokaz (sorry for not writing it correct, dear, but this blog has a very strict code concerning capitals... i'm a weirdo, all right). and she has really nice pictures there - go check it out.

i've also added her blog to my blog list on the right.

and by the way, i'm not british, american, australian, from the second moon of saturn or the seventh sphere of hell. no, i'm really portuguese, even though sometimes i don't really feel like it. the reason why i write in english... well, i like it to be honest, and i see it as a challenge. it forces me to practice every single day my written english, which is always useful, isn't it? :)

arguments

i can't deny i like arguments (disagreements, discussions). i really do. especially when anger and a little resentment takes over. then it becomes a test to myself, a real yet somewhat clouded show of power from all parts involved. and few things give me so much pleasure as winning an argument by having someone saying "look, i think this is a waste of time".

bitterness inside

i hate hope. it's terrible to feel it. to experience it. hope leads to expectations. expectations lead to illusions. illusions lead to disappointments. disappointments lead to bitterness. and to be quite honest, i'm tired of being just another bitter son of a bitch walking over this filthy world.

maybe i should go back three years ago and finish what i left unfinished.

filth

maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea after all, you know? to leave. to walk away from the mess that my life has become, and start anew. to make a new world. i know it's utterly impossible to purge all the wrongs, to clease all the filth that has taken over; but maybe it is possible to breathe again.

coherency

i can't see what difference would it make. well, to be honest i can see it, and i can see it pretty well; it only makes no sense. guess human beings were not made to be coherent after all.

killer hope

now i understand the true meaning of don't ever tell anbody anything. if you do, you start missing everybody, the immortal words of holden caulfield in salinger's masterpiece the catcher in the rye. somethings should not be told, never, under no circumstance. they only bring us pain. like pain, for instance. or trust. two things we can't quite help but feel. two things that will eventually kill us in the inside.

notes from danmark (VII)

the stormy skies of copenhagen. minutes after this picture was taken it started to snow - as if the snowfall we got on the way to the city had finally arrived. i remember this day, our last day in danmark, as if it had been only yesterday. the farewell to our norwegian friends, the snowfall before and during the one hour and a half trip to copenhagen. it was the first time i saw snow, the first time i could feel the cold snowflakes in my bare hands. the museum (a museum that would put to shame all portuguese museums together), the streets where the negative temperatures did never stop people from riding a bike. the chinese restaurant (we had no time for hot-dogs that time, a pity), and the wandering around the city. the docks, the cosy pub. and then the queen's palace, the royal guard, and smoking cigarretes under minus twelve celsius degrees (yes, -12º). if asked to go back there, i'd go at once, without hesitation.

tomorrow, barcelona. work work, apparently. unfortunately, it won't be this time i'm leaving without a return ticket. history repeats itself in many ways.

notes from danmark (VI)

death and the maiden, statue in exibition in a copenhagen museum whose name i can't recall. can't recall the name of the author as well, but it surely caught my eye.

whim

sometimes we are destroyed by a whim.

trailers

the problem is, i have little patience for movie trailers. most times they're such a disappointment. they show glimpses of the story that sometimes don't even figure in the big picture. and they reveal too much, or too little. no, i'm not a trailer guy. i prefer the whole picture. i always did. and now, perhaps, more than ever.

envy

if there is one person that i envy, is daniel, my best friend. not only does he have a remarkable talent for drawing (he's a genious on his own, and the bastard doesn't even practice it), but he also lives without a cellphone. i mean, he has a cellphone, of course, but he never even turn it on. god bless someone sane enough to do that nowadays!

(and by any means i'm being ironic here, i really mean every word written above)

outside

things do exist before we are aware of them. before we give them a meaning, a name, a definition. we deceive ourselves by playing the god of names, who knows anything and who can bend anything to its will. things exist outside of us, emtpy souls drifting around between birth and death. they do existe despite of ourselves.

we are no gods, only the powerless children the gods have forsaken.

razor-sharp shards

and today there will be silence. pure silence, pitiless and unbreakable. and by nightfall, dreams will tumble down from the stars and shatter in thousands of razor sharp shards on the floor. they will cut my skin and draw my blood, the only warmth letf in this world as the darkness takes over.

no rest for the wicked

it will be just like it was before. perhaps a bit sadder this time, due to the unforeseen turn of events. i will return to the nothingness, and there will be no smile waiting for me down there. there will be no sun or starlight to guide me. there will be no warmth; only a cold despair running deep, a frightening sense of loneliness and claustrophobia, a dead chill down my spine. there is no rest for the wicked, after all.

far from the sight, far from the heart

i think i studied this five years ago on my psychology subject. it was about freud, of course, and the psychosexual development of the human being. the first eighteen months of life are descried by old sigmund as the oral stage: children's pleasure centres are located in the mouth. my psychology teacher used to say that for a children this old (or this young), the world is whatever they can stuck into their mouths, and despite freud's apparent obsession with sexuality, the theory has some very interesting points. however, this is not the point of this post. i want to talk about something else, but my good friend wikipedia has just told me that passive fixation in oral stages of psychosexual development include smoking, eating, kissing, cunnilingus and fellatios; now, i don't remember my teacher mentioning blowjobs or anything alike back then. passive, hum?

anyway. back to psychology, and now to piaget (i was mistaking the theories; shame on me). according to piaget, the first stage of the cognitive development is the sensorimotor stage. this stage includes a curious phenomenon called object permanence: imagine that you place an object, let's say a ball, in front of a child's eyes. the child sees it, acknowledges its existence, and probably tries to reach it (and stuck it into his or her mouth, if we go back to freud). yet if you cover the object (let's be cheap and use a piece of cardboard), thus hiding it from the child's sight, he or she will simply forget about it. because it is no longer there, in front of the eyes, and the child cannot comprehend that it is, in fact, still there, but hidden. so if it isn't there, it doesn't exist. simple.

unlike freud, piaget hasn't described, to my knowledge, any kind of fixations. yet i could name some fixations related with object permanence. maybe another time.

beyond healing

it happened as i thought it would be. it's like being walking, seeing a trap in our way and say "shit, i'm screwed" when it's so easy to dodge. but we don't dodge, we do nothing to avoid falling in the bloody trap. i knew one day i'd scorch myself beyond any possible healing. i knew it and yet i did nothing to avoid it. actually, i embraced the fire, i kept going on recklessly. now i barely hold myself together, and there's nothing left for me but to wait for it all to be over.

never forget. never forgive

and this year, i dare say, the oscar for best actor will be given to johnny depp. and no, it won't be due to his outstanding acting in the non-less outstanding sweeney todd: the demon barber of fleet street (another masterpiece by tim burton). it's simply because the academy owes depp an oscar since edward scissorhands.

the golden compass (III)

his dark materials: northern lights, the original name for the book, in the u.k.. what a poignant, mysterious title for a book. the golden compass? well, it doesn't quite have the same impact, does it? the use of the american name of the book for the film really didn't bother me at first, but as early warning signs come, it doesn't get much more obvious than this; we should have guessed from the off that this was going to be a very different beast to the book.

as a huge fan of philip pullman's epic trilogy, i had been eagerly anticipating this film adaptation for at least a year; even more so because i was an extra in one of the scenes. i had fallen in love with the books a while back; not due to the fantastical elements, but due to the way it introduced this fantastical parallel universe to the reader in a slow, subtle, familiar way and made it feel real and tangible. the books are gritty, rugged and at times violent, and the stories' themes are philosophical and even spiritual in a way. It grieves me to say that the film misses the point; concentrating instead, on the fantasy, the action and the giant talking polar bears (panserbjorne).

this is a review of the golden compass movie, writen by john sutherland at imdb.com. i sign below, the guy is right from the beginning to the end. and yes, i'm picking up an old subject, but t still pisses me off that they adapted such a wonderful tale so badly.

readers' blog: the path of fate

for countless years i tried to give my life a meaning, seeking order in all the different realms of human existence. i’ve walked. i've ran. i’ve tried shortcuts. i’ve stepped into crossroads and made my own choices - maybe the right ones, maybe the wrong ones. i don’t really think it matters any more.

and when i felt myself right in the void, with all the hope to open my eyes and see what was around me gone, and gone for good, i fell. like a stone, i fell. like some piece of debris cast ashore, hardened and motionless. empty of feelings and full of nothing. and there i stood, lying fetal on the cold grounds, until i felt the revolution of the skies. the world thundered on my head, and everything around was roaming with rage. chaos had just broken free, relentlessly assaulting me. a hurricane of sensations flooded into my chest and sent me tumbling down again.

when the tumbling stopped, it was as if my head was misplaced. chaos had arrived to my life, to my very existence. it hadn’t come alone, however; it had brought along with it something i had searched for so long – sheer and strong sensations, unrelenting feelings and passions.

the chaos saved me.

special guest star: shelyra

readers' blog

i've asked some of my (few) readers to write a post for the blog. no rules, no schedules, nothing. just write something, i asked them, anything you like, the way you like it. so from now on, hopefully i'll have some special guest starts with me here. feeling kinda lonely here after two years.

if someone i haven't asked wants to post something here, use the e-mail address on the right. and for those i asked, well, thank you very much in advance, and even though i asked for one post, you can write as many as you like.

it's that silly time of the year

when everyone in portugal thinks that we are in brazil, despite the cold and the wind and the rain. good day not to leave home.

low

if people do something from us (that we may or may have not asked for), what's the point of shoving that right into our faces when they want us to do something for them? or when we do something they don't agree with? why falling so low? they completely lack respect for us when they do it - and they lack self respect as well, event though they seldom acknowledge it. it's sad. quite sad. i've endured that my entire life - that's why i can live pretty well being a selfish, self-centered son of a bitch. to be honest, people deserve no less than that.

erased, not forgotten

there is one important lesson i took out of my exile from her. we can erase someone from our life, from our routine. try it. you can delete a phone number, burn photographies, remove mementos of the past from your bedroom (and home in general), clean the space around you of items that can bring memories back. nowadays, you can easily change your cell phone number, your e-mail address. you can block and delete someone's contacto from your instant messaging, and even from your social networking profile. but is that worth it? does that really works out? far from the sight, far from the heart, they say. they are wrong, totally wrong. unlike our (technological) surroundings, our mind and our memory cannot be erased by merely pushing a button. we are powerless there: we do not forget or remember what we want, but what our mind wants us to remember and forget. we might well erase someone from our life, yes. but our life never really erases anyone from it.

full emptiness (II)

the school's view in that rainy day astonished him. despite the clouds there was light all around. everything was bright, noisy, full of life. "yet it's amazing", he thought, his sad eyes seeking a familiar face in vain, "how can this crowded place feel so empty when she's not around..."

it was true more than two years ago, when i wrote it. now the background have changed - i'm no longer at school, and our lives have considerably changed meanwhile. yet i still have this feeling. the feeling of emptiness when you're not around. when i know nothing of you. even on instant messaging - one gets so used to talk to someone, to constantly see someone's virtual presence, that when the presence turns into absence one feels somewhat lost.

this to say that i'm constantly checking my instant messaging window, even without being aware of it. kinda miss you, you know?

waste not, want not

angie says i have a positive way to face life. with all due respect, angie, you're out of your mind. if there's one thing that i'm not, it's optimistic. tried it once, and hated it. it's dull and empty. i can't simply hope for the best all the time, because i know reality is twisted. things tend to go wrong, awfully wrong. if we let nature follow its course, chaos will prevail. believe me.

about those words that i've written here: they're not optimistic. that phylosophy is not positive. waste not, want not. it's that simple. throughout life, we desire many things; yet how many of those desires is fulfilled? we seldom get exactly what we want - so, we must learn to want what we get. we must learn how to do a lot with the little we're given.

of course, it could be worse. but it could be better as well. a lot better.

and angie, we all think too much. even those foolish enough to say that they act before thinking actually think too much. it's not that we have too much time to think; we merely have nothing better to do.

black and white

coloured images, they are modern. they are fashionable. they're full of life, reflecting the multicoloured eye of reality. yet there is nothing as romantic, as genuine, as the black and white pictures of the old days. as modern as we might be, eventually we get tired of the colours. colours are fun and warm, they hold the life of reality itself. black and white pictures, however, have no life of reality - and all its shades of gray have a life, a soul of their own, revealing the darkened reality's true meaning.

saint anthony revisited

have you ever felt like you're preaching to the fishes?

things that really matter

when will the guys from windows live messenger, msn messenger, e-buddy, web-messenger and all the other instant messanging software add a status that says "away for a smoke"?

don't they have anything better to do?

this week, visão magazine published a long article about the biology of love, passion and attraction. i wrote about this a long time ago, and i still don't get it: don't scientists have any other subject to research about? i mean, they could try to find a cure for aids, a new technique to heal cancer, i don't know, there are so many useful things science could provide us. but no, oh no, they prefer to slice and dice through love.

i mean, i favour scientific knowledge and progress and all that crap. but i don't like to think rationally about love. what's the point, do the scientists want me to tell my girlfriend you know, it's the hormone A, combined with that scent of yours made by the segregation B, that makes me feel this way about you while i kiss and lick her earlobe? is this even remotely funny?

science boys and girls: call me old fashioned if you like, but if you don't mind, i'll stick to the good and old i love you instead, when it comes to my girlfriend, all right?

a lesson to learn

nothing ever goes as we want it to. we have to learn to like the course things follow - and if we don't, we have to pretend we do. there's little choice beyond that.

on planning

seldom do things go as we have planned them. i'll be there at half past nine, and by eleven o'clock i have yet to leave home. we'll go out for a coffee, we say, but then it starts raining. planning, however, is not useless, not at all. it allows us to imagine things as they should be. and as reality is uncertain and somewhat tricky (the bitch), it forces us to adapt and to improvise. therefore, planning is useful as a guideline - even if in the end, we have been forced to improvise so much that we've followed a totally different approach.

randomly

s. asks me how can i handle the uncertainty, the possibility of betrayal. she asks me how can i trust - and, if you ask me, i think she asks the hard questions only. i can handle the uncertainty as i can handle the life - the most unlikely, uncertain thing on the face of the earth. i'm serious here. there is nothing with a motion as random as life. we never know what is going to happen next. two months ago i would not, definetely not, imagine january as weird and insane as it has been. and it has been weird. and insane.

the possibility of betrayal? please. we are betrayed all the time, half of them by ourselves. the concept of betrayal implies a "serious" relationship, something that not even i believe. there are several kinds of relationship, and all of them imply a feeling of ownership, of possession. it's our nature. i can't say i don't care, but believe me, i try not to. it's pointless. back to the uncertainty of life: i have no clue about what in a thousand hells is going to happen tomorrow. hell, not even this evening.

how can i trust? i trust the world, and i trust no human being but myself. life is not a social walk over the world; it's more like to be standing alone in a cage.

memory

if we start thinking about it, my dear alice, everything is useless for the simple reason that eventually we'll die. and there's nothing we can take down with us but the gold coin to pay the boatman. in life, we may be rich, wealthy, powerful; or poor, miserable, covering our body with rags and begging for a piece of cold food. we can be creative, and give birth to many worlds; or we can merely be an empty shell randomly walking by. we may be deeply in love, or full of hatred. it makes no difference, in the end. once dead, all differences are gone, and we stand naked and powerless as we face death's cold stare.

i remembering feeling that way too, once. you know i'm a writer wannabe, mostly in science fiction and fantasy. for years i've been creating and reshaping worlds, making them come alive with characters and wars and tales of heroism and despair. i was sure i wanted to keep writing fantasy when i saw the lord of the rings movies - which, as you know, i loved. then i read the books, and found them astonishing. i thought for myself, i wanna be like him (tolkien). and then i read the silmarillion, tolkien never finished masterpiece. and i thought, what the fuck? it was hard to bear. i had just read the greatest fantasy story ever told, and i remember thinking no matter what i do, i will never achieve one tenth of what he did. nothing compares, nothing can ever compare to this. and i thought of giving it all up. it would be futile, i thought back then, to keep up.

yet i kept up? why? hard to say, really. well, if one day someone would come and tell me i was one tenth of what tolkien was, i'd feel damn proud of myself, really (even though they would be obviously giving me too much credit). but i am what i am, and i intend to be like no one else but me. it's not that i have someone who really likes what my tales - well, there are some people, two or three, no more than four or five for sure. i don't have much people who cheer me, who push me to continue, to keep up. and yet i do it. i need to do it.

truth be told, we all die. and the only way to cheat death is to stay on someone else's memory. my goal, as a writer wannabe, is not to be a worldwide known best seller (i seldom dream that high). i would just like to have someone who liked my tales. and who would show them to someone else younger who would like them too. and so on. one person for each generation would be enough - one, only one soul, who would know me, john, the guy who wrote about the underworld and narayan and evaila and raïne merèdhril. my body would be long gone, and my soul would have vanished years ago; and yet, i would have cheated death.

that's worth a lifetime, if you ask me.

(and my dear, forgive me for replying, again, on the blog; but i felt like this would be too big for me to leave in your comment box. at the same time, this confession is too personal to be kept in a mail box; but i will reply to you there nonetheless. have had a busy week.)