June 30, 2008
it can't get any worse, can it?
last day of june, and what cames to my mind is: a good friend who is in the hospital with a serious disease; my grandfather, who is fading away - old age, bad health and bitter sorrow finally taking their toll; and my heart and soul both split in two painful halves who can't stop fight over the eventuality of something that, whether it happens or not, will hurt me like fucking hell.
i'm starting to fear what july will bring me, and it hasn't even started yet.
i'm starting to fear what july will bring me, and it hasn't even started yet.
June 27, 2008
on change (and shock)
i don't know if this is a moment of foreshock or an aftershock, if it is something that's yet to come or if i haven't still living the aftermath of the quake. quite frankly, i hope i'm still to see if there's something coming ahead, but somehow i feel that, if there's something else to come, it won't be good.
it can't be good.
it can't be good.
on change
seldom change is a sudden process, one that we could not foresee. think of it as an earthquake, for example - even the greatest earthquake can be predicted by feeling small foreshocks or by noticing weird animal behaviours, for beasts can feel them coming. same happens with change. it does not come all of a sudden, crashing down on us and changing everything. before the point of no return, when the big change is inevitable, a chain of small changes was triggered, sometimes in such a subtle way that we can't see the big picture coming ahead. but those little change happen, and they happen as a sign. and once we understand the big picture (or are engulfed by it), we finally realise that it was supposed to be like that, for everything moved toward that direction - and, too often, we were oblivious to those events, so we couldn't stop them when we were given the chance.
the right to cross the line
if you want to set an example, then everyone has the right to expect you to be the first to abide by that example. if you don't, then don't complain when someone else crosses the line.
June 26, 2008
requiem for lothorethiel (II)
she was trapped in the ridge and she knew it. she had seen it happening before, with a slight difference though: before, when the demons arrived in force from the sea and the southern lands, the elves were unprepared to face them. they didn't know their strengths and weaknesses, the weapons they used or the resources they consumed. by that time, the elven nation of lothorethiel knew only that the invasor was reckless, restless and bloodthirsty.
but they learned. as the demons ran rampant through the forests, killing all the life and levelling all the elven settlements on their wake, the elves learned. they learned how to fight them, how to pierce their heavy plate armours with arrows, how to disarm them in melee combat. they learned which poisons would stun or kill them, and which spellcraft was more effective against the demonic forces. unfortunately, the elves have learned this when it was too late, when the demons were truly unstoppable, and their path of devastation had reached to the northern shores and to the recesses of the angels' gate. the millenia-old realm of lothorethiel had thus fallen. its ancient king went missing, and the survivors' fate was scattered - some of them joined the angels in the defense of the northern gate, others fled to the contested lands on the southwest, and others banded together with the single purpose of hunting and killing demons.
and that was the purpose of the druid arienoë and her rag-tag band of survivors.
along with scattered folk from the contested lands - minotaurs, orcs and dwarves -, arienoë and her band of elves had won several battles. but as the demons were aware of their resistance, they started to send reinforcements to the southern lands - and those reinforcements were led by a great demon commander. arienoë didn't know his name, knowing him only by the "black beast". but she did learn - and she did learn it quickly - that he was more cunning and cruel than the other lieutenants she and her band had faced before.
and so she and her soldiers were trapped in that once verdant ridge, now covered with grey and black as its lush trees were burned down and its earth was charred and despoiled. after weeks of fighting, of skirmishes, of attrition, both leaders knew exactly how each one's warriors fought, how to defeat them, or how to win a battle. arienoë tried to push her chances by walking into the ridge and get behind the enemy lines - but her move was anticipated.
and once her chances were pushed to their limit, she faced but one choice - either keep on moving, fall into the trap and end up a fight she knew she couldn't win, or retreat, and risk being hunted by the demons. she had seen both situations happening before to know the outcome, so she was aware that whetever she decided to do, it would be risky. but she had to make up her mind quickly, for staying there was not an option. as defenseless as she might be in both scenarios, she was reckless enough to make a move against all odds, and she was also skilled enough to improvise and succeed. but in the end, she and her warriors were mortal - so that choice was a hard one.
but they learned. as the demons ran rampant through the forests, killing all the life and levelling all the elven settlements on their wake, the elves learned. they learned how to fight them, how to pierce their heavy plate armours with arrows, how to disarm them in melee combat. they learned which poisons would stun or kill them, and which spellcraft was more effective against the demonic forces. unfortunately, the elves have learned this when it was too late, when the demons were truly unstoppable, and their path of devastation had reached to the northern shores and to the recesses of the angels' gate. the millenia-old realm of lothorethiel had thus fallen. its ancient king went missing, and the survivors' fate was scattered - some of them joined the angels in the defense of the northern gate, others fled to the contested lands on the southwest, and others banded together with the single purpose of hunting and killing demons.
and that was the purpose of the druid arienoë and her rag-tag band of survivors.
along with scattered folk from the contested lands - minotaurs, orcs and dwarves -, arienoë and her band of elves had won several battles. but as the demons were aware of their resistance, they started to send reinforcements to the southern lands - and those reinforcements were led by a great demon commander. arienoë didn't know his name, knowing him only by the "black beast". but she did learn - and she did learn it quickly - that he was more cunning and cruel than the other lieutenants she and her band had faced before.
and so she and her soldiers were trapped in that once verdant ridge, now covered with grey and black as its lush trees were burned down and its earth was charred and despoiled. after weeks of fighting, of skirmishes, of attrition, both leaders knew exactly how each one's warriors fought, how to defeat them, or how to win a battle. arienoë tried to push her chances by walking into the ridge and get behind the enemy lines - but her move was anticipated.
and once her chances were pushed to their limit, she faced but one choice - either keep on moving, fall into the trap and end up a fight she knew she couldn't win, or retreat, and risk being hunted by the demons. she had seen both situations happening before to know the outcome, so she was aware that whetever she decided to do, it would be risky. but she had to make up her mind quickly, for staying there was not an option. as defenseless as she might be in both scenarios, she was reckless enough to make a move against all odds, and she was also skilled enough to improvise and succeed. but in the end, she and her warriors were mortal - so that choice was a hard one.
June 25, 2008
knowing the rules
one of the greatest lessons i've ever learned came from my high-school phylosophy teacher - who happened to be the best teacher i've ever had. he taught me the importance of knowing the rules of every game, for only a deep knowledge of those rules allows one to find is fundamental flaws (and since human beings are flawed by nature, everything created by them is flawed as well) and use them for one's own benefit. in the end, there's no need to break the rules, as one can play by them and yet use them to one's gain.
that's the name of the game right now.
that's the name of the game right now.
June 24, 2008
into the water
it has been a long while since the last time i've gone to the beach. it was fun when i was a child, but as the years went by, it started to become boring - not only because i can't swim, thus looking quite ridiculous while in the water (as if i don't look ridiculous enough outside the water...), but also - and mostly - because i hate sand, and i find the feeling of having sand stuck to my skin rather annoying. call me a weirdo if you like. but anyway, i'm not writing all this nonsense to explain how i've kept going to the beach, but moved from the sand and the sea (which i love, by the way) to the beach bars, with the company of a cold beer, the best friend one can have in a summer afternoon. i'm writing this because the experience i had as a kid of going to the beach is quite similar to my life right now. one goes to the beach - puts everything on the sand, passes sun protector all over the body, and starts doing something (reading, playing something from cards to football, flirting with the girlfriend, etc) until one gets too unconfortable under the flaming sun. and then it's time to go to the water, to the cold water that always makes us hesitate: should we plunge at once, or takins short steps to get used to the difference of temperature? to be honest, i never really knew the answer, and for reasons explained above, i don't think i'll ever know it. but my life have become too uncomfortable under the sun as well, and i'm wondering what exactly must i do: should i start changing everything slowly, changing this now and that when the right time comes, or should i say "fuck, what the hell" and jump into the water at once, regardless of its temperature, and changing everything that's wrong (which is basically everything, by the way) in the most violent and disruptive way? questions, questions. i wish i had an answer - even though right now i really feel like showing the finger to everything and everyone, saying a loud "fuck off" and start it all anew.
June 23, 2008
the big picture
everything important, everything of any consequence, lies in the little details. the big picture will often show you nothing.
time is overrated
they say time mends all the wounds. i agree, but if time is to heal all the wounds, we must survive long enough. which does not happen all the time.
untitled
i make you laugh. i guess i always did, but apparently none of us seem to grow tired of it. but it just flows naturally, you know? we get together, and i feel good, instantly good. yes, the problems remain, the sorrow still eats me from the inside, but somehow it does not matter as long as i am with you, because you always make me say a lot of bullshit that make you laugh, and that end up making me laugh as well. it's funny... but i look at you and, while i have never loved you (as a lover, mind you), i feel i could share with you my life without any trouble at all. actually, it think you'd make me feel... happy. it's funny, isn't it?
June 21, 2008
randomly
arguing about the evolution of life was interesting, but it's far more interesting to think about the evolution of our very own lives as individuals. as life itself, our lives are the result of a spiral of random events. the place where we live, and the places where we've lived. the friends we've made and lost, the friends we keep, the enemies we hold at bay. the people we've loved, and the reasons why, at some point, we've started to hate them, and to love them again. even death is a random event, as cold and merciless as it might seem to be.
we're the random result of an equation made by random numbers. how could we ever be predictable, then?
we're the random result of an equation made by random numbers. how could we ever be predictable, then?
paradise lost
1. the city. it's still the same. from the train, at night, the same old lamplights in the distance, a sight long known. and the train station, and the old streets. yes, somethings have changed. some details are now different. but everything is still the same, exactly like i remembered it. and it has been a long, long while since the last time i've been here.
2. people. people, of course, are no longer the same. but i've never known many people around here, so i can't see much difference. of course, now i'm older, and everyone seems a kid, a teenager - while they are exactly as old as i was when i used to come here. with some differences, though: i drank heavily, dressed casually, kept a low profile, listened to linkin park, system of a down and oasis. today's kids drink heavily, dress... funny, keep a high profile pushed by a high-pitched voice, ans listen to linkin park and... tokyo hotel.
3. animals. my friend's turtle is still the same. i'm not sure if it recognizes me; but it surely recognizes my feet. well, at least it still likes to bite them. but now the old turtle is no longer alone - the house and the hideout turned into a sort of personal zoo. and it was fun to grab a snake after so long, and feel it crawling in my skin, around my arm. and even more fun: watch it hunting and eating a little rat. for a moment, i felt inside one of those national geographic documentaries. and for a moment, i felt like i was eight years old again, and nothing had ever changed. and it was nice, it was really nice.
4. friend. there are things meant never to change, never to be worn out, never to be eroded by time and rain and wind. there are things that echo through the silence, that traverse time and space, that last forever. sometimes i forget about it, but half an hour was enough to understand something quite simple: i will never have another friend like him, for a relationship such as the one we both have is unique, and meant to be unique.
5. technology. this computer is freaking me out. i hope you can read this. if you care to read this, of course.
2. people. people, of course, are no longer the same. but i've never known many people around here, so i can't see much difference. of course, now i'm older, and everyone seems a kid, a teenager - while they are exactly as old as i was when i used to come here. with some differences, though: i drank heavily, dressed casually, kept a low profile, listened to linkin park, system of a down and oasis. today's kids drink heavily, dress... funny, keep a high profile pushed by a high-pitched voice, ans listen to linkin park and... tokyo hotel.
3. animals. my friend's turtle is still the same. i'm not sure if it recognizes me; but it surely recognizes my feet. well, at least it still likes to bite them. but now the old turtle is no longer alone - the house and the hideout turned into a sort of personal zoo. and it was fun to grab a snake after so long, and feel it crawling in my skin, around my arm. and even more fun: watch it hunting and eating a little rat. for a moment, i felt inside one of those national geographic documentaries. and for a moment, i felt like i was eight years old again, and nothing had ever changed. and it was nice, it was really nice.
4. friend. there are things meant never to change, never to be worn out, never to be eroded by time and rain and wind. there are things that echo through the silence, that traverse time and space, that last forever. sometimes i forget about it, but half an hour was enough to understand something quite simple: i will never have another friend like him, for a relationship such as the one we both have is unique, and meant to be unique.
5. technology. this computer is freaking me out. i hope you can read this. if you care to read this, of course.
June 20, 2008
and today...
... i'm going back to my pre-teen piece of paradise. it has been a while - last time i've been there was... well, it was before i got a beard, a damn long time ago. it's a shame i'll be there for so little time, but it might well be better than nothing. have a nice weekend.
June 19, 2008
an·aes·thet·ic
the problem with anaesthetics is, they don't stop the pain. they just make us oblivious to it by numbing our feelings. but once the effect wears off, it will sting us again and again.
i have yet to find
... if this song makes me feel happy or insanely sad, but it soothes me somehow. but despite the effect, it is definetely one of the most beautiful songs i've heard in a long, long while.
okkervil river, the war criminal rises and speaks (live gig@rice university)
and thanks for showing me this - you know who you are*
June 18, 2008
someone should forbid this
and by this i mean the cute lil'habit of dedicating a song to the one we love when that love is just a newborn. you know what i mean, don't you? all relationships have a song, usually a romantic song that instantly makes both lovers leap at each other whenever (and wherever) they hear it. of course, this is something related with love - and, as everything that it's related with love, it eventually backfires. and it backfires exactly when shit hits the fan, or, in other words, when that beautiful love is broken by some reason. and then that song, that beautiful song you so much enjoyed (actually, you liked it so much that you've dedicated it to the one you've fallen in love with) is unbearable to your hears. and that's a shame, because you've probably wasted one hell of a good song.
i tell you, the songs we dedicate to our lovers should be reusable and recyclable. okay, they are, but it might not be the wisest thing to do. i mean, i'm a close friend of my first girlfriend (yeah, i know it defies nature and common sense, but it was a long time ago and she's a nice gal), and imagine i get a new girlfriend (i know it's hard even to imagine, but let's try at least). eventually they get together, and the first says "john was so romantic back then, when we started to date he's dedicated the song wonderwall, by oasis, to me". and the current girlfriend would say "the bastard! he doesn't have any imagination! he dedicated the same song to me!" and then i'd get there and it would be like
i tell you, the songs we dedicate to our lovers should be reusable and recyclable. okay, they are, but it might not be the wisest thing to do. i mean, i'm a close friend of my first girlfriend (yeah, i know it defies nature and common sense, but it was a long time ago and she's a nice gal), and imagine i get a new girlfriend (i know it's hard even to imagine, but let's try at least). eventually they get together, and the first says "john was so romantic back then, when we started to date he's dedicated the song wonderwall, by oasis, to me". and the current girlfriend would say "the bastard! he doesn't have any imagination! he dedicated the same song to me!" and then i'd get there and it would be like
*spanks* *bites* *kicks*
okay, i assume that the spanking and the biting parts could be... fun, but in another circumstance.
oh, and yes, i've dedicated the song wonderwall to my first girlfriend. wasn't that romantic? as a matter of fact, i think noel gallagher wrote that bloody song so people from all over the world could dedicate it to their lovers. it's a lovely song. i still like to listen to it, but somehow it feels weird. it brings back too much memories.
so, if one can't re-use or recycle love songs, one should avoid them as hard as one can. better to stay out of trouble, and keep enjoying a very nice sound. or you risk ending up without any decent song on your playlist.
not entirely true
the saying "far from the sight, far from the heart" is not entirely true, i admit it. but being not entirely true doesn't make it completely wrong, does it?
dreams are made winding
it was definetely one of the weirdest dreams i've ever had. it was me and her, laying down in a bed (but whose bed was it? i couldn't recognize the space), talking about ourselves. about our past, our common past, our failures and open sores. it was everything there - the bleeding, the sorrow, the feeling of loss, of failure, of a fallen love that struggles to stay alive through the memory when there's nothing else to feed it. the pain was also there, when we wispered i miss you. it was me and her. only, it wasn't her, for the midnight hair, slate-black eyes and ebony skin were not hers, they were from someone else. someone else i've met a long, long time ago, and who i haven't seen since the day we met for the first time.
and then everything was blurred. the ebony girl vanished in the mist, and i was in some unknown street. there were other people there, but despite the all-too familiar conversation we were having, i knew none of them. i was alone with everyone. and we were talking about loss and loneliness, about the recurring thoughts i have about the long-time future. about darkness and despair.
and then i woke up. and dizziness took over.
and then everything was blurred. the ebony girl vanished in the mist, and i was in some unknown street. there were other people there, but despite the all-too familiar conversation we were having, i knew none of them. i was alone with everyone. and we were talking about loss and loneliness, about the recurring thoughts i have about the long-time future. about darkness and despair.
and then i woke up. and dizziness took over.
June 17, 2008
how to spend one hour without noticing it
see the bar over this blog? then start clicking on the "next blog" button, and browse. if you step on a page without the blogger bar, then just browse back and push "next blog" again. and have fun.
you'll probably be surprised to see how many blogs there are out there about babies and families with kids. but you'll also found some blogs with drawings and photos quite remarkable. i'll link some of them if i find'em interesting enough.
you'll probably be surprised to see how many blogs there are out there about babies and families with kids. but you'll also found some blogs with drawings and photos quite remarkable. i'll link some of them if i find'em interesting enough.
that joke isn't funny any more
one day it won't be a joke anymore. a delusion. something distant. no, one day it will be real, quite real, so real and so close that it will scare the crap out of me. yes, it might well be a mistake to do something for the wrong reasons. but as a friend told me some days ago, sometimes we want something, and we try to get it. and we do everything wrong, we are driven by the wrong reasons, and we end up getting what we want nonetheless.
i'm the captain, by the way
somethings require a second reading, so we can understand how right they are. or, if you want, how they fit.
June 16, 2008
change in the air
yes, it is probably better for me to heal alone, just as i did before. but that was a very long time ago - and back then, everything was different, from the people around me to the depht of the wounds. but the times have changed, and everything looks harder now. there is too much change in the air, too little hope to summon. and while time has changed, i have not, or at least some fundamental characteristics of myself have not changed that much. in other words, i'm still a dreamer, even if i'll be damned for it.
fed up
i'm tired of people.
in the end it's all about time. more than one year after finishing my studies, i'm left to wonder about the people i've met in my university years - and, inevitably, the people who will remain throughout my life. and the number is so small. three, for sure. one month ago i'd reply five, but one is forever lost and the other is trying her best to make me walk away from her. there will be a couple more, eventually, but no big deal. four years studing in that god damned school, and a maximum of five people have remained. what a crappy score, i tell you.
of course, i'm exlcuding acquaintances. i mean friends, real friends, people who love me and who i love and to whom i'd share everything (or everything that it's possible for us to share). acquaintances are irrelevant here: i might meet them someday while walking down the street, and we say hello, chit-chat a while about the life, remember this funny episode, make that remark about the always bloody weather. and then we both go away, memories of that random meeting fading as we go to our daily job or to our homes. these are good to bring back some memories, and to see how good (or bad) our life has been (forgive me the futility). but friends, real friends, people who will always be with you regardless of the life both embrace, regardless of the distance and the (lack of) communication - how many of those have remained?
three for sure, maybe two more. for four years, probably the most important years of our lives when it comes to meet people. it is so sad.
and yet, it must also be enough.
in the end it's all about time. more than one year after finishing my studies, i'm left to wonder about the people i've met in my university years - and, inevitably, the people who will remain throughout my life. and the number is so small. three, for sure. one month ago i'd reply five, but one is forever lost and the other is trying her best to make me walk away from her. there will be a couple more, eventually, but no big deal. four years studing in that god damned school, and a maximum of five people have remained. what a crappy score, i tell you.
of course, i'm exlcuding acquaintances. i mean friends, real friends, people who love me and who i love and to whom i'd share everything (or everything that it's possible for us to share). acquaintances are irrelevant here: i might meet them someday while walking down the street, and we say hello, chit-chat a while about the life, remember this funny episode, make that remark about the always bloody weather. and then we both go away, memories of that random meeting fading as we go to our daily job or to our homes. these are good to bring back some memories, and to see how good (or bad) our life has been (forgive me the futility). but friends, real friends, people who will always be with you regardless of the life both embrace, regardless of the distance and the (lack of) communication - how many of those have remained?
three for sure, maybe two more. for four years, probably the most important years of our lives when it comes to meet people. it is so sad.
and yet, it must also be enough.
not always a bliss
while ignorance might be a bliss sometimes, it can also be a royal pain in the ass. especially when those who should know better are the ones playing that role.
stain
i wish it had been different. ot not, since it's pretty much irrelevant to me. what i'd like, perhaps, was not to know about it. the picture was good, a very good one, probably the best in many years, and the last thing i wanted was to see it stained by a shadow that will never fade away. well, another lesson taken: as out of reality as i might live, i do still know the difference between reality and imagination.
June 15, 2008
lie
i like it when people lie to me and i know they're lying and they don't know that i know they're lying. it's messy, but it's also funny.
timing
i hate people without a sense of timing, of knowing the right moment to say something. especially when it's something important.
June 14, 2008
not learned
there are people who are unable to learn some lessons - like me, for example. i guess pavese was right, after all: lessons are not given, they are taken. maybe it is about damn time for me to take them.
in a way, the media came as a surprise, and i have yet to understand what it means exactly. the media is the message, after all, said macluhan - and his theory has only got more accurate with time. i've said it countless times, when we say something to someone, the way we say (i.e., our tone, our atitude, etc) it is as important as what is say (sometimes it is even more important). but nowadays we have more ways to communicate with someone - cell phone, e-mail, forum boards, short message scripts, besides the traditional phone and the (old-school) letters*. but when we decide to get in touch with someone, is the media we chose more or less irrelevant, or does it means something along with what we say?
*wondering: since e-mail killed letters, what effect would have an old-school love letter nowadays?
June 13, 2008
quoth the raven (XXXIX):
one stops being a child when one realizes that telling one's trouble does not make it better.
cesare pavese
then it is just as i suspected.
quoth the raven (XXXVIII):
one can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.
gustave flaubert
June 12, 2008
quoth the raven (XXXVII):
if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.
friedrich nietzsche
threads of thought
my threads of thought are funny to observe. for example, when i started to write the text below, what i had in mind was to say that i was (and i still am) so tired that i could barely think, let alone feel anything. in other words, that physical collapse made my mind (and my heart, let's put it that way) more or less irrelevant. then it moved towards the idea of physical pain as a way to stun our emotions when they're threatening to sweep us away. then, it moved to the concept of self-inflicted pain, and what drives people towards that. and i started the text by a conversation i've had with my sis about amy winehouse's live show. damn, i'm amazed.
self-inflicted pain
some days ago i was talking with my sister about the curious live performance of amy winehouse here in lisbon, when she went to the stage completely drunk or stoned (or both). but what we discussed was not her "phase-in, phase out" condition, but rather the bandages covering her wrists. suicide attempt? maybe. maybe not. i know of people who have cut themselves, and while i haven't really tried such a stunt, i believe i can understand what drives someone to do it. through medicine (drugs), one can control a physical pain - morphine, as the last resort. but how can we control a surge of emotional pain? one driven by the loss of someone dear, by the fall of our love, by the betrayal of our dreams? there is no morphine to soothe such a pain, to tears enough to cry for what or who we've lost (assuming one can cry, for not everyone can), no friend close enough to provide comfort. one can sleep, but in the morning the sense of emptiness will still sting. one can reach oblivion by getting drunk, but that never lasts long enough and backfires quite often. in case of a lost love, one can use someone to forget the past, but that's ordinarily a futile attempt, and one that ends up causing way too much damage, usually carrying someone else into our personal chasm. what hurts here is the memory, the breaking of all routines. and it really hurts - memory can be a tremendous gift that we were given, but sometimes it can also become a seemingly unbearable burden.
the self-inflicted pain is a way to reach oblivion. as we cut ourselves we feel our sorrow dissolving in the falling blood. it doesn't necessarily mean that we want to kill ourselves, or that we are looking to gather attention from someone else. no, it's something we do for ourselves, and for ourselves alone. it's nothing to display (even though eventually someone will see it and get the wrong picture). it's something meant to hurt - a controlled pain that is meant to ease a pain that is completely out of control. one might thing that it is an act of desperation. it is. but to live is to despair. and sometimes, despair and recklessness are the only ways we have to keep ourselves from shattering and collapse - both phisically and emotionally.
the self-inflicted pain is a way to reach oblivion. as we cut ourselves we feel our sorrow dissolving in the falling blood. it doesn't necessarily mean that we want to kill ourselves, or that we are looking to gather attention from someone else. no, it's something we do for ourselves, and for ourselves alone. it's nothing to display (even though eventually someone will see it and get the wrong picture). it's something meant to hurt - a controlled pain that is meant to ease a pain that is completely out of control. one might thing that it is an act of desperation. it is. but to live is to despair. and sometimes, despair and recklessness are the only ways we have to keep ourselves from shattering and collapse - both phisically and emotionally.
June 11, 2008
quoth the raven (XXXVI):
one mustn't look at the abyss, because there is at the bottom an inexpressible charm which attracts us.
gustave flaubert
June 10, 2008
moral judgements and nervous energy
we will eventually survive this, of course, just as we have endured the erosion of distance before. but we won't be the same, for we both have stared into each other's eyes and seen the truth. and the truth is, you would despise me for the way i am, for it is contrary to everything you believe and your prejudice always surfaces. i can't take myself too seriously, i can't help being negative, and my ultimate priority is my own freedom - and for that, i do not deal that well with moral judgements and nervous energy. it will survive, yes. but fading away.
June 09, 2008
the aftermath
the aftermath has been like riding a hurricane. the waves are too high, the winds are too strong, and we do little but to try not to be swept away. and we revolve with fear, hatred, despair. we revolve with a strong - and painful - sense of longing, of woe for what has been lost, and of illusions built in a rush to cover the cracks that cannot be covered or even mended. and what for? for nothing. and why? for something so small that in another circumstances it would have little impact - or it wouldn't have happened at all in the first place. but for weeks everything has been set into motion, in such a subtle way that we could see that something was coming, and yet we were unable to see what it was. and we held and we held, until the last drop has finally fallen to blow it all away. what remains is a terrible sense of waste, of loss, of seeing everything breaking apart in such a silly way.
on friendship
friendship: probably, the only relationship that really takes in consideration the first impressions of someone. after that, it's easy to see that some friends have everything that it takes to hate each other deeply.
yes, love relies strongly on first impressions too. but love is, by nature, a weak feeling - thus generating a weak relationship. think of everything that can destroy it. most storms that eventually break love could hardly scratch a friendship.
yes, love relies strongly on first impressions too. but love is, by nature, a weak feeling - thus generating a weak relationship. think of everything that can destroy it. most storms that eventually break love could hardly scratch a friendship.
bang
i hadn't thought of it before, but as i did, a weird feeling of nostalgia hit me like a sledgehammer. it wasn't supposed to be like that; and yet, as the wounds have not had enough time to heal, it doesn't exactly come as a big surprise. but it's true, it's so true, and it's the last evidence that everything has changed and that nothing will ever be as it used to be.
and because of that, soon i'm going to leave witha bang, with one hell of a bang, just for the fuck of it.
and because of that, soon i'm going to leave witha bang, with one hell of a bang, just for the fuck of it.
June 08, 2008
feeling good
it was too bad that muse have had so little time to play. still, it was great, too damn great. since the opening song, knights of cydonia, to the moment of improvisation in newborn (matt's guitar failed somehow), to see dominic trying to speak portuguese (and that was the funniest moment of the whole night). oh well. there was a lot of songs they haven't played (muscle museum, butterflies and hurricanes, citizen erased), but feeling good was there. someone is lucky, i don't know... lol.
about the rest of the "rock in rio" night: kaiser chiefs was quite funny, the offspring was remarkable (i felt a teenager again), and linkin park killed the night with a remarkable show. not bad, not bad at all.
about the rest of the "rock in rio" night: kaiser chiefs was quite funny, the offspring was remarkable (i felt a teenager again), and linkin park killed the night with a remarkable show. not bad, not bad at all.
June 05, 2008
hullabaloo
today i've learned that the distance that separates my home from my work is one hullabaloo.
obsession
it's so easy to fall into obsession. it's so easy not to notice it. and it's so, so easy to turn everyone's lifes into a living hell while we're at it.
to spoil
in the end, the long conversation can be summed up by this: "don't you dare spoiling my dreams, you bastard! but hey... now that i notice it, your dreams are pretty good to spoil. may i?"
June 04, 2008
no free lunches, no free sunshine
well. at least i learned how much does it cost to have the sun shining upon us for more or less twenty five minutes. yes, not even that is for free any more.
and yet i can't stop caring
and there are somethings that make me afraid as hell. and not because of me, because i'm not involved at all, but because of people i know, people that matter for me, people who i wouldn't lose even if i was to depart to australia never to return. and while i'm happy for someone, in a way, i'm also afraid, terribly afraid: love can make us feel good, really good, but can also destroy us faster than a hearbeat. and while the good feelings love give us are easy to handle, when shit is the fan we fall into a test that's everything but easy. yes, it's hard but we learn. but a broken heart can only teach us something if we survive to mend it, not if we break ourselves with it.
papercut
yes, the silence stings, hurts, feeds a shadow of hatred that looms eerily around us. contrarily to what some people usually say, it doesn't allow oblivion. silence cuts through our old habits and routines like a paper in our skin - it doesn't seem sharp, it doesn't seem threathening, but if you're not careful it will cut you and make you bleed quite a lot - and everyone knows how papercuts sting like fucking hell. no, the silence is not as harmless as we might think it is. and it takes a lot of time, a lot of pratice, to get used to it, and to use it to our benefit.
for now, it simply hurts.
for now, it simply hurts.
useless
i'm not even allowed to believe that i'm just one more selfish son of a bitch. i try, believe me - it's a sort of comforting thought, as weird as it might seem to be. but no, i'm not allowed that. it happened quite often recently: i got in touch with someone, and i wanted so badly to talk about myself. i needed to have someone listening to my illusions and delusions, to my dreams and sorrows, to the things that make me sad and the things that make me... sad (joy took some holidays, apparently). and yet i end up listening, supporting, hinting at something that no one cares about. it's funny, isn't it?
slash
i wish i had never learned some things. if i hadn't, i could try and fail now. and cause some impact, some damage. but i have learned it, and there's nothing i can do now. my true intentions would be pretty obvious to everyone.
June 03, 2008
this is what happens when hell freezes over and only a sabertooth squirrel remains (II)*
since i'm scrating, here goes an award-winning video featuring scrat. apparently, it is included in ice age 2: the meltdown dvd pack, but i haven't bought that one. yet, that is. anyway, here it goes - no time for nuts:
Link: sevenload.com
June 02, 2008
this is what happens when hell freezes over and only a sabertooth squirrel remains*
or scrat: a retrospective of ice age movies and the best trailers ever. to r..
ice age (2002)
ice age 2: the meltdown (2006)
ice age 3: dawn of the dinossaurs (incoming 2009)
ice age (2002)
ice age 2: the meltdown (2006)
ice age 3: dawn of the dinossaurs (incoming 2009)
(so you see what you've been missing - hope you like it*)
slow death
the most painful frustration does not follow an outright failure, something impossible to avoid because we'd pushed our efforts to the limit and yet we couldn't prevent it from failing. the true and painful frustration follows the downfall of something (or someone) when we are aware that so much more could be done. true frustration is caused not by the futility of our efforts, but by our sheer lack of will.
in the end, it's a slow death.
in the end, it's a slow death.
there are things that time does not mend, for it is not meant to.
a girlfriend once told me that it was impossible to forget someone we once loved. while love dies, and eventually we learn to love someone else, we never really stop loving someone we once loved - there will always be a small part of our hears that never lets go. and she was right, as painful as it might seem. we might stop loving someone in the usual meaning of the word: we might stop thnking about them, we might stop desiring them, our hears might learn not to beat faster when they are around. but they are truly unforgetable. as if the hold they once had over our heard had faded away, but not entirely; they remain present in a small part of it, and in a very special way, that part will always love them. it doesn't keep us from falling in love again, it doesn't prevent us from taking the fall and go after our heart's desire. but it remains there. not like a ghost, or a shadow, but as a memory of a sweetness and joy never to be erased by the awful things they might have done to us.
my girlfriend was right, so right. and perhaps that little shard of love is one of the true foundations of hope.
my girlfriend was right, so right. and perhaps that little shard of love is one of the true foundations of hope.