thoughts in chaos

long is the way and hard that out of hell leads up to the light. [john milton] the mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. [oscar wilde]


May 31, 2008

funeral blues

stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
silence the pianos and with muffled drum
bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
scribbling on the sky the message he is dead,
put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

he was my north, my south, my east and west,
my working week and my sunday rest,
my noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
i thought that love would last for ever; i was wrong.

the stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
for nothing now can ever come to any good.

w. h. auden

11:55 PM 2 comments

 

nine a.m.

never has it been as worth to wake up at nine a.m. in a saturday morning. once more, you saved me by merely being there for me, when i could find no other. and for that, i shall forever thank you.

and don't worry, dear, if i ever decide to leave, you'll know it . before everyone else, you will know it.

2:50 PM 0 comments

 

existencialism?

funny. according to this quiz (yes, i know that this kind of quiz is silly by nature, but hey, it's fashionable in the blogworld right now), the philosophy that i follow is existencialism. well, i knew already that, as jean paul sartre said once, we are doomed to be free, and that it us to ourselves to give our lives some meaning, yada yada. still, it comes as a surprise. i always thought that i followed hedonism, or even strong egoism. meh, living and learning.

1:15 AM 0 comments

 

quoth the raven (XXXV)

je meurs comme un chien et cette putain de bovary vivra toujours.

it is said that flaubert said this when he was dying - in despair, perhaps, by realizing that the character he created, madame bovary, would live forever, while his body was failing him. "i'm dying like a dog, while bovary, that whore, will live forever", in another of my rough translations. i feel eerily tempted to translate these words into something else, but i must resist the temptation. for tonight.

12:57 AM 0 comments

 

May 30, 2008

finally, some warmth in this long winter:

6:29 PM 0 comments

 

negativity

many people tend to believe that i am a very negative person, pessimist and cynical, sarcastic and without much hope. their belief, though, is only half-right. and to be quite honest, i'd feel must better if i was as hopeless and as pessimist as people think i am.

4:14 PM 0 comments

 

to count on

it's easy for people to say "you can count on me for everything you might ever need". but can we? can we really count on them for everything? what if we cannot count on ourselves in the first place?

1:19 AM 0 comments

 

May 29, 2008

twist your tongue trying

i'll buy a drink to anyone who can say (so i'll have to hear it) this:

three witches watch three swatch watches. which witch watch which swatch watch?

without twisting your tongue into a knot. and - i'm feeling generous today - i'll make a dinner for the one who can say correctly (emphasize on "correctly), without swallowing the tongue and spit everyone around , the following sentence:

three swedish switched witches watch three swiss swatch watch switches. which swedish switched witch watch which swiss swatch watch witch?

oh, the things we get on our e-mail boxes nowadays....

(and yes, i am aware that i've been posting more silly things here than usual - when i thought it was impossible - but i'm running out of inspiration, that's all)



11:59 PM 3 comments

 

i'm a fucking genious. it's a shame i don't know it.

and i need no more evidence that freud was right all along. our unconscious mind can really play some devious tricks on us. well, at least my sense of humour keeps making fun out of my misery. let's keep walking.

... or perhaps flying, since i am an owl. lol.

11:39 PM 0 comments

 

a quick glance, and surprise burst in my eyes. my mind immediatly races towards a possible explanation (and everyone knows how good i am in finding plausible explanations for everything.....). i try to block it, i swear, but to no avail. anyway. the first possible explanation that comes right into my mind's eye is, and i quote,

bullshit.

now move along, john. there's nothing to see here.

11:33 PM 0 comments

 

oxygen

the daily waiting for a stranger's words and the quests for a way out - with all the excitement and chills they bring - are the small particles that make the few oxygen that's left in the dark basement they call life.

edit: forgot to mention the postgirl. don't ask. i find freckles sexy, what can i do?

10:34 PM 0 comments

 

owled

i thought that my "sleep disorder" made me a vampire, or something as evanescent as any evil mithological creature, but my dear friend angie killed my illusions: the fact that i can't sleep before 3 a.m. (don't ask me at what time i usually wake up) does not necessarily mean that i'll start craving for blood one of these days - in medical terms, it just mean that i am an owl.

yes, an owl. like this one:

and i knew the funny whistle i can produce with my hands was not an accident (it reminds the owl's whistle, really). and at least, i look nice in the picture - quite nice, in fact. and smart. and wise.

maybe this will improve my chances with women, who knows.

6:02 PM 5 comments

 

to know that someone knows

i was about to start this text with "if there is one thing that i hate, it is...", but within my mind popped up an instant warning: i hate a lot of things. actually i hate more than i love. so, it's easy to realise that such an introduction would be an outrageous lie.

instead i'll start by a simple "i hate". sounds better, no?

i hate to meet people who know. i'll elaborate: imagine that something happened - something that shouldn't have happened in the first place, but since it did, it would be much better if no one knew about it. but there's always someone who does, and it's weird when we meet that someone. because you don't feel comfortable to talk about it, because you don't want anyone to pity you, because you're ashamed. and the one you met knows, and is obviously curious about it (you can see it in the eyes), and doesn't talk about it; but lets you know that he or she knows, without revealing the thoughts about it. i hate when that happens. it's a complete pain in the ass.

moreover, it is for me reason enough to walk away from that person. to avoid contact. fortunately, it seldom happens with close friends - it's more common with acquaintances, with people that doesn't call me or have the habit of talking with me by instant messaging. still, it's annoying.

5:36 PM 0 comments

 

out of the blue

.... on the other hand, i have despised few people in my life as i despise you. it's funny, isn't it? the theory of chaos revealing itself: change the initial conditions and you'll change an entire chain of events - and if we put this into perspective, by events we could mean feelings or thoughts, for example. and it's funny to think how something apparently so small (though bigger than a butterfly) can make such a difference, can change so many things - events, situations, thoughs and feelings. and everything has changed. we may argue that everything was set in to motion already, that everything was drawing near, that it was all inevitable. it probably was, yes. but still; that little beating of wings changed everything by destroying it all and by leaving nothing alive in its wake.

and now that it's all said and done, we're left to wonder. was it worth the sacrifice? was it worth having a small illusion of freedom in exchange of.... nothing? had we fallen so far that we were no longer worth that much (or that little)? if i was the one to answer, i'd say no without a second thought. sometimes the consequences are too great, sometimes the hurricane is too powerful, and it's better if we kill the butterfly before it starts beating its wings. but that answer is not mine, for i had no part in this play: i was the audience, watching the self-annihilation of a soul up in the stage. so i had no butterfly to kill - all i got was the hurricane. and it came. and it will take a while for it to be over. in the meanwhile, there is sorrow, there is hatred, there is a deep loathing as my imagination is scattered to the four winds during the storm. nothing that i can prevent from happening - i've seen it before, after all. there are good things also, positive things. but those are tied into a knot of tangled wire, and i am unable to untangle them. it rains outside, you know? i'll just leave it be. the tangled wire will eventually get rusted and weathered, finally untying the knot to let it all to be reborn. in the meanwhile, sorrow, hatred and loathing.

3:11 AM 0 comments

 

May 28, 2008

hold it

hold it... hold it... hold it...

(it's hard as hell not to breathe when you most need to)

12:34 AM 1 comments

 

May 27, 2008

a song out of darkness

now there is the expectation, the eagerness for something that once brought a smile to my lips, but from now on will only leave a bitter taste. now there is static, where once (a long time ago) a beautiful song could be heard. now there is another ghost in the gallery of the fallen, one that cannot be forgiven or forgotten, forever cursed. until one day. for a time will come when the expectation will give way to indifference. when the eagerness will turn into nothing. when the sorrow will become a memory. when the static will give way to the silence, first, and then a song - a different song, one that does not allow the past to be forgotton, but that doesn't not blind our eyes from the future. then i shall open into the gallery of ghosts and open the window - turning them all to stone again, exactly as i have seen them for the last time. all the curses will be broken then, and i will be set free.

6:10 PM 0 comments

 

one, two, three, four, five.

in the first time i was unable to understand the reason, the why.
the second time vanished from my (bad) memory. probably to irrelevant, as there is nothing left of it.
the third time was a powerful blow that knocked me down to my knees. i remember all to well the fury running deep, that made wish i could set the world ablaze.
the fourth time was even more violent. an outburst of rage took me over, and the purest anger set my self destruction into motion. i survived, of course, as i always do. apparently i like the drama.
but in the fifth and last time, anger and hatred lasted a few seconds, maybe one minute. then everything i had left was resignation. it was a quiet peace, a weird feeling of inevitability as i watched my dreams stumble and fall. nothing was truly shattered in the process, for everything that could be shattered had already been shattered - and fixed the best way it could be fixed. but something are beyond fixing, beyond healing, even beyond hope. somethings are simply impossible, and meant to be that way. and then anger or hatred become irrelevant. sorrow doesn't, though; but seldom does sorrow last forever, eventually fading away. in time. but truth be told, time is the essence of everything. hopefully, it won't be any different now.

5:07 PM 0 comments

 

not in the mood

i cannot understand the coldness, the roughness, the way you suddenly started to look down on me somehow. we are different, i know that, but it has never been this way. well, perhaps i can understand what is wrong (or what was wrong), but if my thoughts are correct (and recently they have been sadly correct most of times), then the issue is futile, to say the least. but screw it. be that way, if you like. i'm not in the mood to care, to be honest.

4:48 PM 0 comments

 

butterflies and hurricanes (II)

a mathematical definition of love:


because if the beating of a butterfly's wings can cause a hurricane, then i shall assume the hurricane as the inicial status, and will wait for a butterfly to beat its wings somewhere and change my world. i shall be the hurricane, then.

12:35 AM 0 comments

 

May 26, 2008

it's a day as good as any other, i suppose

so it's time to stop wasting... time. we can't let our lifes pass us by because of anyone. it's not that we have nothing to lose, for we always have something to lose (it would be much easier if we didn't). but we can't afford to think too long about the risks, and we must take all the steps we need to - embracing the adventure, forgetting the risk, running towards something we want, even if we don't know exactly where that is, where we can find it, or whether we will find it. but all those questions become irrelevant when we no longer feel at home, where there is nothing (no one?) to warm us, to make us feel there is still hope.

only, there is any.

hope has long left the wastelands where i dwell. and i wonder why i only see it now. blindness is the answer, like it has been before in other circumstances - every little detail, every sign told me that, but i was heedless. deep inside, i believed (i'm not as pessimist as some of you might think; what i am is a good maskmaker for myself). but in what? that there is someone worth our sacrifice, the fall of our dreams?

if there are any dreams to fall. that's another question: whether these are really my dreams, or just delusions of mediocrity. i don't know, i'm clueless as a matter of fact, but the only way to know it is doing it, daring everything, and try to get something out of it. regret later, maybe, but regret something done. whatever, i'm beyond caring - i just need some action, for a change. and change. yes, change would be good. years and years making the same mistakes, for the love of god - damn it, it's about time to make different mistakes. so it's time to start a war, a revolution. or to die in the making - but it does not matter, as long as i do something. for a change.

6:14 PM 1 comments

 

on wait (IV)

and yet, all the time we waste waiting on a daily basis becomes irrelevant if we consider the time we spend waiting for someone. especially because most of times, we're doing something else while waiting for someone - we might be sleeping (or trying to), working, having dinner, watching the telly or getting laid. but we are there, waiting, left on hold like a phone call no one wants to answer, nervously watching the clock ticking away while waiting for a warm smile that would make the sun to shine upon us, or for the word that will drown us in bleak sorrow. and that hurts, that stings like hell, because as we work and cook and go out it might seem that we're carrying on with our lives, but the truth is, our lives have stopped, have reached an halt. in fact, we're not exactly living - but surviving, with a semblance of order that hides a handful of fierce and chaotic nightmares.

4:37 PM 0 comments

 

May 25, 2008

unsuspecting

it's ironic that the source of the only beams of light i can see in the darkness around is the most unsuspecting eyes.

10:57 PM 0 comments

 

atlanthea

i expected it to be good - but it was far more than that. the first (?) live show of atlanthea, the musical project of my friend rodrigo was yesterday, in odemira. and what a show! with some friends singing and playing drums, guitar and bass, rodrigo pulled out more than one hour of pure entertainment, filled with tremendous songs and a couple of funny gags (hello, static). the crowd - yes, it was a crowd, the room was full - was more like a family, where everyone knew each other, and everyone knew someone in the band. that was enough for some amusing moments. after all, how many live shows you've seen with the crowd introducing the bass player... to the crowd?

soon, if i can get pictures or videos from the show, i'll post them here, so the two of you who read the blog (lol) can see what you missed. in the meanwhile, just follow the link to atlanthea's myspace page on the right, download the albums, listen the songs and have fun :)

(yes, it's legal to download those albums)

10:41 PM 0 comments

 

smile

i wonder if any tears have ever touched me as deep as those. i felt sad, really sad when i noticed he was crying, for i could understand the feelings of that old, weathered man; and yet i felt happy at the same time, because my short visit was enough to make him feel that someone cared about him. when he said good-bye to me, he was crying - and he was smiling, as if thanking me for the handful of words we exchanged, and the questions i asked him (when i wasn't even there to visit him).

for a moment, i felt like i had a purpose, i swear. reality, though, took care of making me feel like shit shortly after. but still, for a moment, i felt happy. i smiled.

9:52 PM 0 comments

 

May 24, 2008

gasoline

i should have known - at least from past experiences - that i always fuck up when i try to put out a fire with gasoline. water, john. water, as cold as possible. remember that next time.

9:04 AM 0 comments

 

outage

not wanting to me mean, i'll just say that there is never a power outage when we need one.

9:04 AM 0 comments

 

May 23, 2008

boom, headshot

well, some people clearly know how to take aim. or perhaps they don't, and hit the mark without having the slightest idea of what they're doing. yeah, it's probably it. anyway, it was amusing - get the gun, load it and boom - headshot!

i shouldn't be laughing because of it, as it was so sad. but i can't help it.

10:21 PM 0 comments

 

the game of loss

in the end, it's a game. two teams in each side of a field, throwing the ball at each other. each team element trying not to be hit by it - the idea is to avoid it, to deflect it in some way. and then to grab it, and to toss it back to the other side. aiming at the head, pushing it back for a deep, strong throw. and then the hit, and the guilt of letting the ball find its target. and again, catch the ball and take aim. on and on. until no one is innocent, until all the flaws are revealed and no one is able to leave the pitch unmarked, unscarred. until there is no one left to blame, for it does not matter who was hit first one being hit, or the last one. until there is no more guilt to fire, and no victory to achieve.

mankind has been playing this game since the beginning of times. when it is over, no one remembers any more who started it, who tossed the first ball. who was marked by shame first. what is remembed by all players is how it ended. and no one who have ever played it can pride oneself for leaving the field victorious. there is no cup awating in the end, no medal to receive while standing on the top of the podium to a cheering crowd. there is only the anger, before it starts. the upheaval, while playing. and the emptiness, when it's over, after the last ball was tossed and the last innocent player was found guilty. it's not a game meant for a team to achieve victory - only to inflict defeat.

9:21 PM 0 comments

 

crossing the line

thin is the line between the space needed to breathe and sheer indifference. it's easy - too easy - to cross it, even without knowing it. as it is easy to break it. and, as everything else, once that line is broken it's quite hard to put it together again. after all, nothing comes together as easily as it falls apart.

8:35 PM 0 comments

 

a promise. a curse. written on a bond tag

in a night never to remember, in a place never to return to. cold wind whispering through lips made of leaves, dying threes barely holding up under the failing lamplights. the black bond tag on my hand, a white-ink pen on the other. a promisse and a curse, shaped in fading characters read only by my eyes, felt only by my heart:

one day i'll set myself free. until then, i'll have no choice but to love you.

2:05 AM 0 comments

 

interrupted

valerie: what would you have said to her?
susanna: i don't know.
(pause)
susanna: that i was sorry. that i'll never know what it was like to be her. but i know what it's like to wanna die. how it hurts to smile. how you try to fit in, but you can't. how you hurt yourself on the outside... to try to kill the thing on the inside.

girl, interrupted, 1999

1:38 AM 0 comments

 

May 21, 2008

innocence

the problem of innocence is, it does not last long. once you lose your innocence, you cannot get it back. ultimately, that's why the radiant smile of the first date never returns. after a while, we know better.

6:55 PM 2 comments

 

on roughness

yes, i know i was rough. quite rough. but living is not a smooth walk in the park during the spring, with pop-corn or an ice-cream by the sunset, before going home. to live is to endure, to survive, to know in every moment that there's someone out there better than we are, better than we'll ever be. and, above all, to live is never letting that knowledge humble us, lower our ambitions. the place where we come from, in the end, is basically irrelevant. what matters is not our background, but what we can do with it - and despite of it.

5:36 PM 0 comments

 

upside down

when one feels a warm breeze coming from the northern peaks and a blizzard coming from the southern sands, one knows that the world is upside down, not working as it was supposed to any more. and this is not about latitude or longitude, but people - which only makes it all more messed up.

4:23 PM 0 comments

 

quoth the raven (XXXIV):

dying
is an art, like everything else.
i do it exceptionally well.

i do it so it feels like hell.
i do it so it feels real.
i guess you could say i've a call.

sylvia plath, lady lazarus

1:08 PM 0 comments

 

good night, moon

it felt exactly like the old days. the ancient days, before history itself. a window opened to the night, facing a dirty backyard. the moon high in the sky, peeking through slate clouds. and i, sitting on the lattice. alone with the slim cinder that will consume me and eventually, one day (perhaps too late?) will kill me.

i felt sore. i felt like a tangled piece of scar tissue. just like in the old days, i was hurt, ripped by too many wounds. some of them were recent, bleeding on the surface of my skin. some of them, however, were old, very old, running deep through my inner self, oblivious to flesh and bone. all of me was an open sore, left aside without hope or care. all i had was night's cold embrace, a dirty backyard with dying trees to stare at, a cigarrette. and loneliness.

relatively speaking, i might well be lucky, as many have never even had that much. but leaving such considerations aside, i simply felt like dying. again. somethings simply never change. and no one can afford to be so naïve as i have been, for the price to pay is often too high.

12:34 PM 0 comments

 

May 20, 2008

roughness and indifference

i walk between extreme roughness and sheer indifference. even the falling rain doesn't bite me. not that i'm looking for it, but the truth is, i'm in no rush. why should i? it's not like i have anything waiting for me at home. or anywhere else, for that matter. nothing, no one. the rain seems as good as anything else.

7:10 PM 0 comments

 

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

there are three different ways for you to avoid speaking the truth: you can cover the truth, you can lie.... or you can show some statistics.

6:05 PM 0 comments

 

words and meanings

words are, by nature, full of meanings: some are obvious, some are hidden deep inside. and then, there are the meanings we give to some words, because they remind us of someone or something. and yet the nature of words, the same nature who surrounds them with inner meanings, makes it so easy for them to lose everything special about them, to become insignificant, irrelevant, automatic - something we say not because we mean it, but because we are so used to say it that we don't think about it anymore - that we don't feel it any more. words become empty shells then, cast ashore during the storm and left forgotten there.

but regardless of their meaning, words are meant to be spoken. to be heard. to be traded, if you like. a word unspoken is as meaningless as a word weathered by routine.

5:10 PM 0 comments

 

we pretend that love never dies

one day i'll ask him to write this blog for me. really. he can almost guess my feelings. here goes another (failed) translation, by myself, of a remarkable text:

death never truly dies, for time sees to its constant ressurection. love dies though, and dies regularly: sometimes in the very moment of its conception, as a newborn, and sometimes due to an extreme lack of caring, of nurturing, forsaken through the storm.
death hides in pictures, behind blocked windows, under our nose quite often. as it does not live, it does not die. it is always there, strong, tangible, true.
we pretend that love never dies because, truth be told, we believe in spiritualism.


by filipe nunes vicente in mar salgado - another brilliant piece of the odi et amo series. to read what he writes is often an experiece as remarkable as it is frustrating.

2:20 PM 0 comments

 

May 19, 2008

what she said (not)

nothing. nada. zero. rien. not a word, not a smile. nothing. as if it was meaningless, empty, unimportant, useless. useless was my effort, as my feelings. useless and worthless - as ever.

5:01 PM 0 comments

 

waste

.... and so we waste one entire day looking for someone that is not showing up.

4:54 PM 0 comments

 

irresponsability breeds creativity

the problem with responsability is, it curbs one's ability to improvise. and while improvisation usually doesn't allow a regular quality of, let's say, work, it is critical for some strokes of genius and, of course, to save one's sorry ass in some situations. when shit hits the fan, what does the responsible one usually do? to stress out, to climb up the walls in despair, to outburst at everyone. and what does the irresponsible one do? summons creativity, and finds a way out.

the reason is simple: the irresponsible fellow has a long "training" (and therefore, excellent skills) on making up for his (constant) failures, forgotten deadlines, excess (or lack) of characters in the text. why? because the "enemy" lies everywhere, since that early hour in the morning when the alarm clock is tossed against the nearest wall to the moment of getting to bed, which is never coming because the internet is funny and, surprisingly enough, the telly is not broadcasting any reruns (or is broadcasting quality reruns, which is the same). the irresponsible does not think about deadlines (or doesn't take'em seriously) - when they come, they come, and then we'll see what happens.

and no, this is not a personal excuse for anything. or it might be, but it doesn't matter right now, as this bullshit has the sole purpose of replying to a recent "judgement".

4:40 PM 0 comments

 

indifference

i would laugh at the smiling faces if they were to show anything else but sheer ignorance and, perhaps, indifference.

1:02 PM 0 comments

 

the starting point

it came as no surprise, even though it was clearly... exagerated (as it always is). it's all right, it's never too late after all. and yet, there is a fundamental flaw in all the justification. some people might well claim they have no advantage over anyone, and that they're willing to sacrifice just as much; in the end, such a speech is empty, because the starting point is different.

12:33 PM 0 comments

 

pain over pain

a broken body seemed to somehow appease a troubled mind and a shattered heart. it didn't last long, though, and even though the flesh and the bones still scream with pain, the cracking sounds of a failing heart can now be heard. again.

12:31 PM 0 comments

 

primordial mud

it was funny to see some people again - and to see how they have not changed, how they remain as insignificant as they have ever been. it's the only reason that makes it worth to enter my old world again, to watch everyone still crawling in the same primordial mud, and to realize by their attitude towards myself how unconvenient i was a long time ago.

there were, obviously, some exceptions. two hot exceptions.

12:27 PM 0 comments

 

May 17, 2008

laughter

i'm almost forgetting the time when it was different, when laughter came spontaneously - for both of us.

8:20 PM 1 comments

 

May 16, 2008

bus (I)

he: d'ya wanna come with us in the weekend? p. can come with ya if ya like.
she: we broke up, ya know.
he (surprised): really? how was that?
she: no big deal. we broke up, we're no longer together. simple. but we'll be back.
he: why d'ya say that? d'ya still like him?
she: yes, of course i do. and so does he. so i want him back, and he wants me back. we're just not getting back this weekend, that's for sure. i wanna have some fun.
he: *laugh*

yeah, being a teenager is to be sure of everything. i remember that.

4:43 PM 0 comments

 

what we want, what we need, what we like

bingo.

as for myself, i think i want too much. i mean, it's not too much - to be honest, what i'd like to get is quite insignificant. i've lost most of my illusions of grandeur long ago. it doesn't mean, however, that i get it. i wish i did.

1:14 PM 0 comments

 

May 15, 2008

a long, long time ago

we sat together in the old fountain. i remember a snake, a little snake, peeking through the stones to stare at us, dancing at the rhythm of the falling water, of the cold, whispering breeze... it was winter, a beautiful winter evening with crystalline light breaking through the clouds, moving slowly but steadily towards the nightfall - eternal cycle of day and night, of light and darkness. darkness. quietly, darkness crept around us, surrounding us with its embrace without really touching us. and there we stood, siting together on the fountain, sharing secrets never told,dreams never spoken, and a promise. in the silence we talked, as if in a reverie, surrounded by the grays and greens of a nature unspoiled by human touch. i had long since forgotten this feeling; and even though i had never been there before it felt like home, as if everything i could see beyond the moss-covered stone walls was mine, ours, ours alone. there and then i felt no time, no pain, no sorrow... only peace, grace, evanescence. the sweet evening dissolved everything under a blazing sky. and suddenly nothing really mattered, and suddenly we drank in the discovery of the world, in the discovery of our inner selves, revealing to each other. i saw the light falling far, far away, when the night started to make herself heard - quietly, though, not willing to disturb us. i felt the future drawing near, revealing in the sweetness of you.... a future when light is allowed, when i dare believe in it...

a perfect moment.

6:03 PM 0 comments

 

what she said

if i'm not to believe in coincidences, then what possible explanation can i give to that? i mean, of all the words i have forgotten, hers were just the ones which would be delivered right into my hands - as if fate itself was telling me "you can forget what everyone told you, but you can't forget what she said". and what she said was truly mind(and heart)blowing. and it all came back to me now - of all moments, right now.

5:49 PM 0 comments

 

May 14, 2008

no questions, no answers

it is better never to ask, never to reply. its true. quite true. and not only about the past before us. sometimes we need to get a reply, an answer, an explanation. but the question will only hurt someone. and the answer, if given, will only hurt us.

the silence might be deafening sometimes, but it can also be wiser.

quote from vontade indómita

5:42 PM 0 comments

 

curse. promise.

it was cold outside, but not that cold that makes us with for a bed full of warm blankets. it was confortable, now that i think of it - you know when it's cold and you feel quite confortable in spite of it. anyway. it was cold, it was night, and i went out. the walls of my bedroom suddenly seemed to me too close, too tight, choking me. i went out, trying to find solace somewhere else. and a wasteland shaped like a dark garden, with its weathered benches, dying trees and mind-numbing silence seemed perfect.

and there i stood. for how long i cannot remember, but it must have been a while, having the intermitent street lights and the soft rustling of leaves as the only company. silently, i let my mind wander, and my eyes were locked into my bond tag. i removed it, and almost without thinking i inscribed something on its inner black surface with white wink. a curse. a promisse. in the end, nothing, for the writing vanished few days after.

i no long wear a bond tag, but i'm still as caged as i used to be. i know it still lies somewhere - and while the words i wrote vanished from its surface, they never vanished from my memory. a curse. a promise. in the end, nothing at all.

4:38 PM 0 comments

 

wish it was only a recurring nightmare

i've had recurring nightmares
that i was loved for who i am
and missed the opportunity
to be a better man

muse, hoodoo, in the album black holes and revelations, 2006 #10

2:07 PM 0 comments

 

line-up

01. take a bow (black holes and revelations)
02. hysteria (absolution)
03. map of the problematique (black holes and revelations)
04. butterflies and hurricanes (absolution)
05. new born (origin of symmetry)
06. city of delusion (black holes and revelations)
07. plug in baby (origin of symmetry)
08. forced in (hullabaloo)
09. bliss (origin of symmetry)
10. apocalypse please (absolution)
11. hoodoo (black holes and revelations)
12. invincible (black holes and revelations)
13. supermassive black hole (black holes and revelations)
14. starlight (black holes and revelations)
15. time is running out (absolution)
16. stockholm syndrome (absolution)
17. citizen erased (origin of symmetry)
18. muscle museum (showbiz)
19. i want to breakf free (riff) (cover)
20. knights of cydonia (black holes and revelations)

this was the line-up of the songs played by muse the last time they were in lisbon (october 26th, 2006). starting to wonder already whether they'll play the same songs again on june the 6th, or if they will change it. it will be great nonetheless; but if they tossed micro cuts and showbiz on the list i would be the happiest person in the world. during the show, of course.

1:55 PM 0 comments

 

quoth the raven (XXXIII):

it doesn't take a telepath to know what you're thinking.

sarah kerrigan to jim raynor in starcraft

1:16 PM 0 comments

 

this was written in march, kept as draft in the dashboard, and i have no idea what it was all about. but it's true nonetheless, so here it goes:

our mind can make some weird associations on a purely unconscient level.

1:08 PM 0 comments

 

old habits die hard (or do they die at all?)

it's funny how routines can creep into our lives in such a seamless matter. weeks, months and even years can go by, and we keep doing the same things unable to notice how dependant we are on them. i mean, dependant is not the right word - it's not like an addiction, like i'm addicted to nicotine, for example. it's an habit, more than a hobby, something we enjoy doing and therefore we keep doing it.

they are different from addictions because we can easily survive without them. there is no biological, mental or emotional craving: we did something, but we do it no more. and yet we can't help but feel that something has changed. we miss doing it. and sometimes all that what we need to get back to those old habits is a little encouragement, a brand new perspective, a little fire that can spark our enthusiasm again.

1:06 PM 0 comments

 

expiration time

this product's expiration time is over. please throw it away and buy a new one. gee, thanks for the warning.

1:02 PM 0 comments

 

lesson #2

do never, in any circumstance, doubt the power of google to find the oddest and most unlikely stuff. seriously.

2:16 AM 0 comments

 

May 13, 2008

unrequited pain

the first trial failed because, in the end, i am of little consequence. it failed not because i don't matter, but because i do not matter enough. it as plain and as simple as that.

the second trial's failure, however, thaught me a lesson: do never keep yourself from doing something you'd like to do because of someone; do never keep yourself from doing something you wanted to do just because you are afraid. afraid to open your heart and hit a concrete wall. afraid of wanting something and get a plain "no" as reply. afraid of being denied by someone who was supposed to accept you, to embrace you, to hold you to the end of the world and dawn with you for a bright new day.

together, both trials thaught me something else: in the end, we are always alone; and that while mutual love is joy, unrequited love is pain. the purest form of pain.

11:28 PM 0 comments

 

memories. hotel in paris, nightfall. december, rain outside.

and out of the blue i stepped on something i didn't remember any more. memory, like god, works in mysterious ways. it is as if that memory was burned, and vanished from my mind altogether. but now i remember - i remembered it all when my hand suddenly picked up that sheet of paper with something written with black ink. black ink, as black as the night that was falling back then. as black as the darkness i was drowning into.

december. night was falling. i think it was raining outside, but i can't remember that well. i was in the outskirts of paris. alone. alone during the flight, and after the company's driver dropped me at the hotel, i was alone again. it was late, too late to go out and find a restaurant where i could have dinner. left my bag in the room and went downstairs, to the hotel's bar - hoping for a sandwich, a couple of beers, some cigarrettes. my notebook and my pen went with me. and i wrote.

i wrote because i couldn't talk. there was no one there to talk to. no one there to listen to me. other than me, only the bartender, two german businessmen around a laptop and an old english couple drinking tonic gin. eventually they all left, as expected. on the telly, some crappy french rerun. and i was there, alone with my beer, a sheet of paper and black ink.

and i remember. i remember how i quietly cried out for someone, knowing that no one could reach me. never in my life i wanted so much to have company, to be with someone, not to be alone. i couldn't cry. i can't even cry, bloody wretch of a human being that i am. so i poured it all on the paper with black ink. on and on it went. hatred, rage, despair, loneliness. dry tears written on paper, for there were no eyes that could cry them.

and today i found that sheet again. today i've read it again - and i felt it all again. and i understood why i had apparently forgotten it. it never really went away. i never really let it go. i cried over the paper, and the paper gave those tears back to me. and today, when i picked it up, everything came back. everything.

a fair bunch of things i note down - thoughts, memories, word-shaped mementos - is translated to the blog, sometimes a lot of time after they were written. but not this time. i dare not doing it. it is too strong, too painful. and too true to be codified, too real for me to mask it with metaphors and images. no, it can never be told. somethings must never be told.

11:02 PM 0 comments

 

getting started

dear alice, i'm not going anywhere. see, the trouble of writing everything in this blog in a "codified" way means that sometimes it might seem that i mean something when i don't. that was the case: i just quoted a bit of a music whose lyric is telling me a lot now, and made a joke out of its title (transmission).

so rest assured, this blog has not reached the end of transmission. i can't say what happens tomorrow, but if you ask me now, i think i'm just getting started.

by the way, allow me to congratulate you for your book - i'm quite curious about it, but i'll wait till you show it in lisbon to read it. this time i wanna be there, so make sure you appoint it for a day when i can, all right? :)

10:53 PM 0 comments

 

(end of) transmission

and we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
and hide from these days we remained all alone.
staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
touching from a distance,
further all the time.

joy division, transmission, in the album still, 1980 #16

4:21 PM 1 comments

 

choices

i remember a situation, a long time ago, when i did something that wasn't obvious. caught in the crossfire between two people (in that case, a couple, being he one of my best friends), i stood by the side of the one i didn't knew (his girlfriend). in other words, i left one of my best friends alone and went after his girlfriend, sat down with her and talked for hours. she knew me for what? two days? something like that, yes. i remember her staring at me, suprised. "why haven't you stayed with him", she asked. "because i know him", i said. "and i can't be of much help there." and it was so true.

i know it wasn't the obvious thing to do, but it worked out pretty well. he came 'round later, they talked, and everything was cool for the rest of the weekend. me and him, we remained as friends as we'd ever been - and she became my friend as well (even after they broke up, which eventually happened some time after that). and yet, this course of action so effective back then did not produce the same results when i put it to pratice again, years after. again, it seemed to me the right thing to do (and to be honest, i don't regret doing it). but this time, i think i've fucked up something. it's just a feeling, for the time being. but a bad feeling.

people are different, so what works once might well fail when we try it again.

3:30 PM 1 comments

 

May 12, 2008

on fundamentalism

a fundamentalist pointing the finger towards another fundamentalist is always a sight worth seeing. ah, the wonders of contradiction, always up to bring a smile back.

6:30 PM 0 comments

 

mask

it's simply beyond my ability to handle. i try. i'm trying. every day, believe me. unfortunately, i cannot wear a mask for too long, it soon feels heavy and itchy. i remember what happened the last time i've tried to do that, and it ain't pretty.

4:48 PM 0 comments

 

blade runner


now i understand where has it all began. ghost in the shell, and the doubts of major motoko kusanagi, a cyborg who was once a human, but now has a metal shell and wonders if she is a life; and the puppet master, a setient being, a conscience without a body who emerged from the endless crossroads of information of the net, claiming for rights as it is an existence. the matrix, and the relationship between men and machine, between intelligence and artificial intelligence. and i could go on and on - it was all there, back in 1982, when ridley scott decided to bring to the big screen the book by philip k. dick do androids dream of electric sheep?.

blade runner is one hell of an achievement: made in 1982 and still outshines many modern movies when it comes to visuals. the plot is dense, as we follow the steps of the blade runner deckard (harrison ford, and it's funny to see him so young again). his mission is simple - to put an end to four replicants, a class of androids who rebelled themselves and were due to deactivation. but what seems as simple as shooting four tin-humans turns out to be a complex mission, as deckard meets a fifth replicant (rachel). through an interesting set of characters, the movie raises many questions - many of those are yet unanswered.

put a soundtrack by vangelis over the top and you've get a rare cake here.

11:31 AM 0 comments

 

May 08, 2008

nerdish blogging

the memory is too full, the hard disks are slow, the redundancy systems are failing, the I/O interface is broken. nothing works anymore, and yet the system is still running.

i suppose this is what they call "virtualization".

4:24 PM 0 comments

 

May 07, 2008

the stormherald

different attitudes towards people imply that people act differently with us. obviously. so if one decides to be a stormherald just for the fuck of it, it's pointless to complain when the storm hits hard. as it is pointless to point the finger and throw sand at someone's eyes just to cover one's own guilt.

7:48 PM 0 comments

 

quoth the raven (XXXII):

deep into the darkness peering, long i stood there, wondering, fearing
doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
but the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
and the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
"lenore?", this i whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,

"lenore!" merely this, and nothing more.

edgar allan poe, the raven, 1845

4:54 PM 0 comments

 

no alarms and no surprises

i guess everyone can be caught off guard. and quite easily, as a matter of fact.

1:33 PM 0 comments

 

haven

for years you live as a harbor, as a safe haven for anyone who needs solace. for years you commit yourself to stay there and listen, to listen to everyone who approaches you, to give them back a word of comfort, of wisdom, of hope. or merely an understanding silence. but years went by, and while you stood there waiting for everyone to come to you, you've not noticed that no one was coming for you. and without knowing it, you've spent all your comfort, all your wisdom, all your hope on someone else. until one day you find yourself alone, your haven in ruins. spent. you find yourself spent, without anything or anyone coming for you.

12:54 PM 1 comments

 

May 06, 2008

under pressure

the only thing that does never break under pressure is time, because it is bent and twisted by nature. and in its wake, it twists and bends everything. so everything breaks, eventually. it's not a matter of how - that question is irrelevant. the question is when - and once more, we step into the domains of time.

3:53 PM 1 comments

 

somethings really never change

and almost three years after, the answer would still be the same: no one.

3:31 PM 0 comments

 

the shard

the brother's war ended with the death of mishra and the ascension of urza as a planeswalker - an ethereal, god-like being of endless power, with the ability to walk the multiverse through the nether of the blind eternities. urza the artificer became a planeswalker when he poured all his memories into a bowl-shaped artifact, the golgothian sylex, in order to defeat his crazed brother; and by doing so, he produced a cataclysm that wiped the continent of argoth from the world and sank the entire world of dominaria into a millenium-long ice age. the thran powerstones that were the reason why both brothers fought so fiercely - the weakstone and the mightstone - were lodged within urza's skull, taking the place of his eyes. and both stones were the source of his tremendous power, for they contained the essence of glacian, a nascent planeswalker of the thran who used his lifeforce through the stone in order to lock the hellish spheres of phyrexia from dominaria.

but by releasing the power of the sylex, urza did not only "engineered" the ice age - he also locked the dominarian nexus of worlds in the multiverse, trapping everyone inside, and himself outside. no one, not even a planeswalker, could walk in our out of the shard words. dominaria was apparently safe from everyone - including him and phyrexia.

among the planeswalkers trapped within the shard was freyalise, goddess of the elves. once a child of red mana, freyalise turned to the green colours of nature when she became a planeswalker. while urza was the responsible for the beginning of the ice age, freyalise was the one who brought it to an end when she cast the world spell using two artifacts: the reflecting mirror of the archmage jodah and the ice cauldron. the world spell was a powerful and destructive spell, which ended the ice age and brought spring back into a long-frozen world. it also repaired the shard, leaving the dominarian nexus unguarded - thus allowing the return of phyrexia, and urza right after that. while freyalise can be blamed by being reckless - she could have destroyed the world with her spellcasting, and she allowed the evil of yawgmoth to return -, she also gave dominaria the chance to live again - for living is not without danger.

i guess freyalise is needed, once more.

2:54 PM 0 comments

 

five years

and five years later, we met again.

it's funny to think about it, you know? five years. i, who can remember no face, remembered yours. you still remembered mine after so long and so many changes. it would be normal if, during the course of these five years, we had seen each other a couple of times at least. or if we had been life-long friends before losing contact. but we've met during a day, one of the best days of my life - one where i felt i learned something that will last for my entire life. it was the day when i learned that there is no shame in defeat so long as the spirit is unconquered - and our spirit in that afternoon was unconquered, and undefeatable.

it was a lesson we both learned that day, something to be proud of - and it was very nice to remember it all by seeing you again after so long.

12:31 PM 0 comments

 

May 05, 2008

blockade

me and you, my dear, we are alike. we both have chosen to bury our heads into the earth not to see the truth. we both cling to an irrelevant past, foolishly thinking it still heralds a future. but how mistaken we are! that past, as meaningful as it has been, is past, and it's lost within the sands of time. and so are the feelings - what remains of that past is an empty shell made of need, and nothing else. by ignoring that fact, my friend, we are only keeping us from feeling that way again. by clinging to a time that should be forgotten already, we are merely building a blockade around our hearts. a blockade like a stone wall made for not letting anyone or anything in.

9:31 PM 0 comments

 

May 03, 2008

fading out

it's fading out, at last. i'm surprised it lasted for so long. but everything eventually dies, and it would be no exception. yes, it is dying. it struggles hard for life, to take one last breath that would give it strength enough to carry on. but it is dying; and one day i will wake up and it will be gone. one day i will wake up and there will be nothing left but the empty space it had taken for so long, the empty space where once it had lived and died. yes, one day there will be nothing left - and in that day, i shall finally be free.

9:54 PM 0 comments

 

May 02, 2008

now waiting

three long, long weeks. oh well.

10:46 PM 0 comments

 

something is amiss

when we are afraid of stating the obvious, of telling the true, of trying to point out something so important, then something is wrong. terribly wrong.

6:33 PM 1 comments

 

on redundancy

the things we learn while working as information technology (it) journalist. for businesses, redundancy is a very positive thing: if a system is redundant, it means that it can recover faster in case of failure. redundancy is a way of backing-up, a way of getting things back on track if somehow they left it. and yet common sense tells us that redundancy is a bad thing - if one says something that is qualified as redundant, it means that one is repeating oneself, adding nothing useful, and could probably be quiet that no one would notice. i dare say, if one is redundant, one is irrelevant.

it's a shame, actually, that i'm not an ordinary it system, but a person - and redundancy will slowly kill me by making me meaningless. again.

3:46 PM 0 comments

 

quoth the raven (XXXI):

life sucks. i would kill myself but i would go to hell then... and that would be redundant.

10:18 AM 0 comments

 

chaos will always prevail. it is better organized.

thoughts and chaos by

  • john raynes
  • [ jeraynes[at]gmail[dot]com ]

present past:

  • suicide note
  • euphoria and broken glass
  • tear drop
  • requiem for lothorethiel
  • self-inflicted pain
  • the girls we followed home
  • untamed
  • the stand alone friend

guest stars:

  • anonymous
  • delerium14
  • alice
  • shelyra
  • jill
  • virginia

second home:

  • jardim de micróbios
  • viagem a andrómeda

friends:

  • Damn, life, you scary!
  • era um manual de instruções, por favor
  • hoje voltei a ver
  • i'm just killing time
  • lady chatterley
  • tudo e nada

personal favourites:

  • a lei seca
  • aurea mediocritas
  • complexidade e contradição
  • locus amoenus
  • ouriquense
  • postsecret
  • the tugboat complex
  • vontade indómita

early morning laughs:

  • bug comic
  • sinfest
  • xkcd

politically speaking:

  • blasfemias
  • delito de opinião
  • estado sentido
  • o insurgente
  • portugal dos pequeninos
  • 31 da armada

outside world:

  • a forum of ice and fire
  • dead air space

recent chaos:

  • Eulogy
  • Spaceport
  • Lifeless
  • Undertow
  • Smoke and mirrors
  • Mistakes
  • Cast no shadow
  • Love will tear us apart
  • Lady Winter
  • Music doesn't really get any better than this

the past (un)perfect:

  • October 2005
  • November 2005
  • December 2005
  • January 2006
  • February 2006
  • March 2006
  • April 2006
  • May 2006
  • June 2006
  • July 2006
  • August 2006
  • September 2006
  • October 2006
  • November 2006
  • December 2006
  • January 2007
  • February 2007
  • March 2007
  • April 2007
  • May 2007
  • June 2007
  • July 2007
  • August 2007
  • September 2007
  • October 2007
  • November 2007
  • December 2007
  • January 2008
  • February 2008
  • March 2008
  • April 2008
  • May 2008
  • June 2008
  • July 2008
  • August 2008
  • September 2008
  • October 2008
  • November 2008
  • December 2008
  • January 2009
  • February 2009
  • March 2009
  • April 2009
  • May 2009
  • June 2009
  • July 2009
  • August 2009
  • September 2009
  • October 2009
  • November 2009
  • December 2009
  • January 2010
  • February 2010
  • March 2010
  • April 2010
  • May 2010
  • June 2010
  • July 2010
  • August 2010
  • September 2010
  • October 2010
  • November 2010
  • December 2010
  • January 2011
  • February 2011
  • March 2011
  • April 2011
  • May 2011
  • June 2011
  • July 2011
  • August 2011
  • September 2011
  • October 2011
  • November 2011
  • December 2011
  • January 2012
  • February 2012
  • March 2012
  • April 2012
  • May 2012
  • June 2012
  • July 2012
  • September 2012
  • December 2012

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