An old yesterday

No, we aren't cynic and nice people for convenience like you.

Before the day is over, we will expel the remaining drops of vomit. Before the day is over, we will say the last words. Before the day is over, we will send your letter even you won't read it or you don't know how to do so. Before the day is over, we will get rid of all these booger, we will allow ourselves the rain to wash our souls, and we will set fire in the memories and codify them for our learning to be helpful later.

We will tear the bread bag around our heads that suppressed our words, that didn't allow us to breathe. We cared about you and your supposed heartbreak, but did you ever feel the same about us?

Words aren't a contract, we should know. Contracts can be broken whenever we wish, can't it? We should as well know that words don't mean anything for those who lie to protect their own ego. Mature speech, childish attitudes. Hypocrisy.

You gave us a bomb that was going to explode in 5 minutes and hinted it was a problem of ours, not yours too. Because we aren't responsible for the feelings we made the others feel for us. Everyone fools oneself because one wants, everyone suffer because one wishes. That's it when you're a cold person.

We don't want and we don't need a coward one like you. We don't want anyeone who only thinks of oneself. We don't want someone who starts a relationship with the first person that interests this one. We don't like frivolous people we don't like people that even respect themselves. We don't want garbage that eats garbage.

It doesn't mean that we still care, we are just undergoing surgery to take off the scissor you forgot inside us that was hurting. We thank God you're really a disgusting person, a lie for us and for you. We aren't cynic and nice people for convenience like you and we really want you to meet people of your level and suffer as much as us did for you when didn't know your true you. We were honest and you weren't. We cared about you, but you don't. We are setting fire in all the evidences for us to be able to leave this old yesterday in the past and feel pure, clean and ready for a new tomorrow.

The beginning of the end

A powerful voice sounded from nowhere and ordered: “Shut up, I want to watch TV”.

The day was sunny, few clouds on the sky, nice temperature. But suddenly, the sky got black in few minutes. Thunders shook the walls forcing the dogs to hide under the beds. The day turned out into night and it wasn't a solar eclipse. The lightnings illuminated the dark sky.

The South wind blew furiously while the housewives were obligating their daughters to take the clothes from the clothesline before the raindrops could reach the soil as bullets. The girls who refused to do so and confronted their mothers saying “go you there” were painfully hit by Havaianas sandals their mothers threw against their heads. The unlucky ones were hit by Crocs'. The windstorm took off the roof tiles that flew against poor people's body. Chaos was taking place.

From the high of the roof of his house, in the highest point of the shantytown, the evangelic minister announced the Rapture. It did look like the Apocalypse. The religious people were crying and speaking in tongues begging for compassion while roof tiles was hitting them as guided missiles. The atheists was just observing them and after the minister was hit by a Brasilit tile in the middle of his face flying to death, they made fun of the religious: “Where is your God now”? So both of the groups slapped the faces of each other defending their believes and their disbelieves.

A powerful voice sounded from nowhere and ordered: “Shut up, I want to watch TV”. And a lightning fell among those who were fighting, killing and silencing them.

And in this scene of final judgment, a group of people were taking pictures in front of the mirror to post them on Orkut: “This is just me getting ready to the end of the world, kisses”. When they look at the mirror, they don't see their own reflexion. They see much more. They see them strong, courageous, powerful. People who were an example to be followed. They saw perfection. Their minds were closed, impenetrable. Their eyes saw what they wanted to see. Their ears heard what they wanted to hear. And around the piercing on their bellybuttons, there were people orbiting, the Earth, the planets, the galaxies and whatever exists.

They were ultra-powerful people. When diving on their minds and seeing the world through their eyes, we can see a reality that isn't real at all, but for them, it is.

If they were a planet, they would orbit a phallocentric system and their moons would be phallus. The envy is the high frequently used noun of their limited vocabulary. It isn't easy to be gorgeous, it isn't easy to be hot, it isn't easy to be a trendsetter, it isn't easy. Having phallic moons bothers envy people who doesn't have it. Others happiness bothers. This is a very envy world indeed.

The ultra-powerful don't need to make friends because the world is on their feet, requests its friendship. They have hundreds of friends. When publishing a shirtless picture, a lot of people like, a lot of people desire “wow in my house”. Flaming proctus. Ultra-powerful people don't regret of anything they did or didn't. They don't care, they don't think of the consequences of the attitudes they had and didn't have. The world is envy just because they are superior.

The Deluge flooded the little city. Noah's ark haven't come. The atheists sank and the religious fundamentalists floated on the water but they didn't go up to Heaven as they wished so desperately. The brick ceiling fell down over the ultra-powerful people heads and they survived to the Apocalypse. They were cockroaches, now ready to eat the dregs.

Now We Are Free by Cathrine Makabali

You should read at this

You should admire Bashar al-Assad.
You should admire who is richer than you.
You should be a trendsetter.
You should be a vegetarian.
You should be against abortion.
You should be against Belo Monte building.
You should be against corruption.
You should be against deforestation.
You should be against the capitalism.
You should be against the death penalty.
You should be against the government aid to the poor.
You should be against the progress for the progress.
You should be against the same-sex marriage.
You should be against the social ascension.
You should be against the socialism.
You should be concerned about others life.
You should be concerned about your reputation.
You should be concerned of all.
You should be cult.
You should be disgusted about the violence.
You should be patriot.
You should be proud of being an African descendent.
You should be successful.
You should believe that celebrities are smarter than you.
You should believe who you believe is as smart as you are.
You should believe you are nothing.
You should boycott Globo Network.
You should buy original products.
You should change your status on Facebook to “in a relationship”.
You should concern about the global warming.
You should dispose your garbage in the garbage can.
You should do a spiritual trip to India.
You should do several things.
You should drink fancy beers.
You should drink responsibly.
You should feel guilty for being born man and white.
You should feel the center of the Universe.
You should feel unhappy if you are fat.
You should fight for a better world.
You should hate terrorism.
You should hate the human race.
You should hate the USA.
You should hate the Workers Party.
You should hate this text.
You should have an opinion about all the issues people talk about.
You should have fun in the Carnival.
You should have your own ideas.
You should hit naughty children.
You should honor your parents.
You should like samba.
You should live in Cuba.
You should live your day as if it was your last day on Earth.
You should love Nietzsche.
You should love this text.
You should make people cry swearing their idols on Twitter.
You should not be victim of envy.
You should not give alms.
You should photosynthesize.
You should plant a tree.
You should practice yoga.
You should pray for the people in need.
You should read a book.
You should read the Bible.
You should recycle.
You should rely your problems on the God's hands.
You should respect all religions.
You should respect the elderly.
You should respect the Pope.
You should respect your boss.
You should save water.
You should share funny pictures.
You should shock the politicians sharing pictures on Facebook.
You should show how superior you are.
You should smoke hookah.
You should speak as if you lived in the 18th century.
You should speak Polish.
You should spend your vacation in Paris.
You should stop breathing.
You should stop buying Chinese products.
You should stop drinking.
You should stop smoking.
You should stop starvation in Africa.
You should stop using plastic bags.
You should support president Dilma Rousseff failures.
You should think you are better than the others because you are rich.
You should think you are the most interesting person in the world because you are hot and gorgeous.
You should to work at Zorra Total as a humorist.
You should use swear words to call others attention to you.
You should vote.
You should walk on the road crossing.
You should watch an alternative movie made in Uzbekistan.
You should watch an American TV series.
You should work out for the summer.

Rotten water fountain

It did not mean that he still cared about it, but that fountain was now a source of inexhaustible inspiration about the putrefaction of the things.

And after walking without a destination, lost and thirsty, engulfed by madness and hopelessness due to the lack of a way to follow he found a fountain. A fountain once beautiful of very clear water. He drank it. It did not take a long time and the water became rotten. He felt sick and as he was in the desert, he could not take any medicine or going to the doctor.

However the illness had gone and he was found and rescued by a group of Bedouins that was crossing the desert. The fountain was still there, gushing rotten and contaminated water, full of faecal coliforms.

It did not mean that he still cared about it, but that fountain was now a source of inexhaustible inspiration about the putrefaction of the things.

DIONNE BROMFIELD - If That's The Way You Wanna Play

Parachutes

The dream was the fulfillment of a desire, not clearly exposed, but recognized and suppressed by your mind.

It is perfectly possible to save some money if you are open minded. Because when your mind is closed, either you go to a specialist in the issue or you rely on common sense believing that you know enough about yourself, and it is mainly a mistake and that fallacy easily noticeable. Dreams are a link between the known and the unknown, the key that opens the doors to the unconscious. If you are really open minded and humble to recognize to yourself your own weaknesses, it will be possible self-analyzing better and understand the reason of your attitudes, fears and desires.

The dream was the fulfillment of a desire, not clearly exposed, but recognized and suppressed by your mind. Some time ago it would be something you could believe as viable, even though it could require too much mental energy. Today it is acceptable its remote state. Chances exist, but it is accepted that it would be wise not to cross the borders. It sounds Greek, but it is just a reflexion, an echo.

The gates were supposed to be closed, but the carelessness was the opportunity the teenager needed to practice the larceny. They imploded the whole place because it is not wanted, it is not desired the rebuilding. It is only desired that the trucks take the mountain of waste to somewhere far away. But it is wished to connect and disconnect for some time and then untie right after.

It is easy to deal with it when character is something one does not have, when a selfish, cold and indifferent behavior are features of one's personality. Let's be sincere and let's admit that the hugeness of the coeur plus the goodness and naivety are a problem, even they are not something disapproving.

It would be preferable to be together for some time, using each other with the consent of both. No promise, no dissimulation, no lie, hypocrisy, cowardice. Let the time to bring the oblivion and converts the energy of a tsunami into a inoffensive and graceful ripple. And if there is the wish, play the tie-break. But is wanted that there will not be falls and the closure comparable to the mysterious Korea DPR.

The apple returns to the tree

And in this world of paranoiac and unbalanced people, I will see everything to fall down, indifferent, barefoot on the sand having my good drinks.

Perhaps the biggest balance of the things is on the unbalance. Seeking for it may be just a mere utopia, unreachable ideal that if it was possible, it would bring us the true chaos. We already know that there is not rich without poor, that a leader has no authority without followers, that the beautiful does not shine through if the ugly does not exist, what would it be of the protagonist without the bit players, what would it be of the red if everybody liked the blue? This is the balance of the things; we have already reached it but, due to our eternal stubbornness, our eternal focus to make things worse than they already are, we do not see it, we do not note it and then we ruin it at all.

And being part of a minority is not so bad as they say, people love to dramatize. There are times that it really exhausts us, we would like to be one in a million, deny ourselves, overturn ourselves, because sooner or later the crisis of being part of the minority comes, but it goes. In the world of the artificiality and superficiality, a short and restricted group set the trends, the fever that the alienated and obtuse mass will consume for them to feel part of the gloomy majority. Say minority is weird, at least they have a refined taste and a richer culture. People are too coward to enjoy the extremes of live justifying then, all their silly fears, their mediocrity and their need of self-affirmation in the I-am-awesome and fool without arguments behavior.

These are not worthwhile thoughts. If it was a speech, people would be unfamiliar to it, talking among them about trivialities: the weather, the soap-opera, the Avaí's last match..

Thinking is good. The balance is for some. And there be those who do not think, there are those who are just a body occupying a place in the space, there are those who are a paltry passenger in a train without destination, paltry part of a gear that moves all the systems ahead. Someone who plays a bit player in the piece of theater of life, someone who accepts the insignificance as their destiny. And there are those who think too much. A scary seek, almost schizophrenic, for love, happiness, wealth, whatever. It is pathetically obvious that who needs to scream for everything and everybody all the time, being proud of having something everybody seeks for, it is because he noticeable does not have, but he has this necessity of getting it and spread the illusion blinding himself.

And it might be empty being idolized for people you do not love, that never were and they will never be part of a supposed family. The mice put their idols on a pedestal. And it might be frustrating being admired and have your thoughts shared by people who did not understand what you meant, Clarice Lispector looked at them with a blasé look. And He might have gotten bothered of those who manipulate and are manipulated by words He might have never written because, if He is what they say He is, why would He have lost His time writing a dubious and controversial book speaking about love within a hate policy? Perhaps the Earth would like to eject everybody across the universe annulling the gravitational power, so it would get rid of these human bacterias that are making it sick.

Vast emotions

The annoying shrilling sound the alarm clock produces reached to my ears in a day that even the prettier sonata gave me a headache, no, it is not a hungover, reader, neither the end of semester syndrome that prevented me to write here for such a long time, but my traditional bad mood. Perhaps it would be less complicated to throw the alarm clock against the wall as I did, in a thought, instead of pressing the buttons to turn if off. 'The contemporaneity makes me angry', said the pseudocrap cult that lives in the last century. Sometimes I would rather live in the XIV Century, in Europe, with all my bad habits and beliefs in an Evil God and Revengeful Devil to explain the Black Death. Perhaps I would be happier.

The Reader allow me to say that the days no longer drawl as I already wandered about through these digital lines that worth anything. The days run more and more and take with them the vast emotions I have never had, neither you, the ultraromanticism is dead, only the emos did not realize yet. If the image of a colorful phallus disguised in a picture is able to touch this poor and rotten youth that have their natural imagetic determined by the TV alienation, I will paint it in t-shirts with very cheap prices.

'Being banal is natural', said the fashionista, and among the decorations that will build the allegory of the human misery, it is possible to foresee the unforeseeable, is it going to rain today? Good, not so good, more than good, it is perfectly clear allow yourself to be read in the between lines, but who likes them? I can note life has no sense anymore, neither in having, neither in undoing, generically perfect. It is me. Sure getting carried away is more than renting a brain because and empty mind flows upon the puddle of excrement that we call 'erudite culture', or would it be 'mass culture'? Never mind, the part that fits me stinks as much as. And then I hide myself in my room and sleep embraced with my pillow, that listens to my screams and scream deafly at my ears, for me to take a new breath, maybe to open the window. We are not the same we once were, and life goes on.

…

“Vast emotions” (Vastas Emoções) was a text written by Rubens Rosza Neto on July 10, 2010 on his blog, Borradela, and it was translated into English by Peterson Florindo for his blog, Thinkable.

In the end

In the end, you get what you deserve.

People say it is impossible a relationship between rich and poor people to go ahead. Who is rich would get bothered with the lack of good manners and the self-indulgence face small things. Who is poor would get embarrassed face to the rich vocabulary, cultural experience and a totally opposite lifestyle. But if there is not the willingness of building something together and overcome the social barriers and the inferiority complex, poor people will end up with the poor ones and rich people will end up with the rich ones.

People say it is impossible a relationship between pretty and ugly people to go ahead. Who is pretty would get bothered of not having a “presentable” one to his parents and friends. Who is ugly would have jealousy and insecurity crisis frequently due to his appearance complex. But if there is not the willingness of building something together and overcome the barriers of the beauty standard and the lack of confidence on yourself and on your partner, ugly people will end up with the ugly ones and pretty people will end up with pretty ones.

People say it is impossible a relationship between out of the closet guys and in the closet guys to go ahead. Who is out would get bothered whenever he feels he imposes embarrassment to his boyfriend. Who is in would get embarrassed to show affection in public and come out homosexual to his parents and friends. But if there is not the willingness of building something together and overcome the barriers of homophobia and rejection complex, in the closet guys will end up with in the closet ones (or even by themselves) and out of the closet guys will end up with out of the closet ones.

People say it is impossible a relationship between worthy people and idiot people to go ahead. Who is worthy would get bothered by the lack of honesty and someone who values him. Who is an idiot would miss the liberty of getting no strings attached lovers to be able to discard them when it is convenient for him. But if there is not the willingness of building something together and overcome the barriers of selfishness and lust, worthy people will end up with the worthy ones and idiot people will end up with idiot ones.

That is the way the things end up. In the end, you get what you deserve. If a relationship did not go ahead as you wanted, it is because it was not supposed to. It is very common for the people to end up with their equals because the way is easier: they have things in common and live similar realities. The opposite to it would require a fight few are those who are willing to fight for. Because when you really like someone, you go for it and face whatever it comes because your love is bigger than your fear. And when you do not, you give up earlier and leave the ways opened to each one to get what they give.

Antiophidic serum

Making unusable the wisdom of a setback in your life is ignorance, is learning nothing and is to be susceptible to relive it sooner or later.

Some diseases are acquired once in a lifetime and, after healed, the person becomes immune to them. The venom of snakes, spiders and other venomous animals can be used as a counter-poison to the treatment of those who got their bit. It is not so different compared to human beings relationships.

There is always a positive side even in the worst situations. It is not very intelligent refuse yourself to see it through Pollyana's eyes. And it is not cliché to see opportunity in the difficulty. Making unusable the wisdom of a setback in your life is ignorance, is learning nothing and is to be susceptible to relive it sooner or later. And unless you are masochist, nobody wants to feel back the same pain, the same suffering.

People who bothers us will appear along our lifetime even if we try to avoid them and be at their environments. People like these are in every family, every company, every social class... The reasons may be diverse.

Then someone offends you, humiliates you, destroys you... You may forget the words, but you will never forget how you felt. There will always be a first time to live these bitter sensations – and situations like these are not few and there will always be a new one. The more you listen to your family and friends advices, read books, you will only really learn not to lower yourself after having seen the good side that the suffering implied to you after had felt it on your soul. This is when you develop the so-called immunity to it and that is why that is important to make use of the opportunity the difficulty is giving to you, otherwise, it is probable that you will end up making the same mistakes in the future.

When you are annoyed, you may end up learning more about yourself regarded to your vulnerabilities. You discover what hurts you and you can work on it and try to find a solution if it has a psychological background.

After some time, you find yourself in a conflict situation with a new person who is trying to let you down. Armed with the weapons you got from those difficult situations, you learn how to defend yourself and fight back. And one of the most curious weapons you have is one you inherited from an enemy. You may use the same words or even have the same attitudes of someone who hurt you because you know how much it hurts, the how much you bled. Perhaps Freud has already written something about the transposition of the pain...

With the sorrow, we develop our antiophidic serum, out immunity. With the sorrow, we discover our weaknesses to work on our spiritual strengthening or hiding them, or project them on the others. And remembering the sorrow, we may attempt to hurt someone in the same way someone had hurt us...

Silence the weapons with flowers

He had seen the good side of the heart of that man and, even he had sacrificed himself to save him.

[1] Silence...

The diplomat went out of his house, closed the door and left. He knew the consequences, but there was a hope that he could solve that distressing problem with a sincere and open-minded dialogue. When he arrived, he took a deep breath and knocked the door of the house of the man whose indifference was hurting him.

The man inside asked who was knocking. The diplomat introduced himself and was ignored. He knocked the door once again. No one replied.

He insisted to knock the door a third time after begging “please”. Someone went downstairs and answered it. The diplomat got scared about what he saw. Even though he could foresee a possible hostility, he never thought the things would end up that way.

The man then said what the diplomat was getting ready to hear and, as if he was not hearing what the diplomat was saying, he came in defensive and with weapons on his hand. And, with no mercy, he shot the diplomat twice that fell down on the ground having, as a last memory, the darkest side that those man allowed himself to show.

[2] ...the weapons...

In that gray and sad Friday the priest did the last homages to the murdered diplomat. He was a honest, kind, generous man that used to see the human side of people, and he did believe that this side could bring those who was in darkness back to the light.

While his family was crying his death, the murder was not feeling anything about the diplomat, actually, he was having fun with a prostitute. Barely she knew these were her last minutes of life too.

[3] ...with flowers.

The population and the press did not want to understand the forgiveness words of the diplomat's sons to the murderer of their father, even they did not have exchanged a single word with him. For them, he could express his hate and they would not hate him anyway. Their father had gone, there was nothing to do. They were considered “fools” for many people but they knew their father would be proud of the attitude they had. He did not want his children to compensate a mistake making other and that harboring hate would just poison their hearts.

Someone lied flowers over the diplomat's grave in the middle of the night. It was not his kids, but an old friend. He got down on his knees and started to cry, regretful of the harm he caused. He was not alone. The diplomat was by his side, in spirit. That night mission was finally accomplished. He had seen the good side of the heart of that man and, even he had sacrificed himself to save him, he had set that man free of what was killing him and everybody around.

ERIC CLAPTON & ROGER WATERS - Wish You Were Here by petersonflr

Learning how to die

You will learn how to die in order to learn how to resuscitate.

So this is the death. The coffee and the bread do not swallow down due to the lump in the throat. The hot shower could last forever. So did the rest if it were not for the flashback moments that never happened, but it was a dream in black and white, with no Sun, no heat, no touch, no caress. Sleeping in the middle of the night and relieving the last hope minutes. But here I am, alive. Dead but alive. Maybe I am at the Limbo.

We are dying every moment. It sounds tragic, do not you think? But we die because we are changing, the world is changing, the people and with them, our dreams and feelings. It is not the same thing as it was once ago. Sometimes it can the good, a blessing in disguise. And sometimes, the death is slow and painful. You implore to the Death to take you away, but she watches everything, indifferent, polishing her fingernails with her legs crosses, sat in a bench.

That is why we should be prepared to die. Every one will have to find their point of balance sooner or later, like it or not. I am trying to avoid creating expectations in order to not get hurt while I pursue my dreams. Or desires, needs, whatever, only in the end I will know what was it and at the Limbo, I will figure it out. If you do not prepared yourself, it is going to ache unbearably. You will fall and the world will not stop to wait you stand up. If you are prepared, yes, it is going to hurt, but soon you will recover and reborn from the ashes.

Phoenix. It dies and reborn from its ashes, always beautiful with its red fire color. Always.

Dying is not easy, it is not nice, none of us wants to die. But the death is a lesson, a learning. Yes, my friend, life is sadist and expose us to the pain for us to learn how to die. You will learn how to die to learn how to resuscitate. Its medicine has a bitter taste, the time. Dying is not the end, but a new begin, learn with your mistakes but never, ever corrupt your soul, your essence, yourself, to people who does not have patience, tolerance and that refuses to love and respect you the way you are. Dying is not the opportunity to revenge, but the opportunity to be humble and recognize mistakes and forgive the others and ourselves. We are human beings, we make mistakes and we kill sometimes people we love, with or without intention, for them to have the opportunity to reborn.

Ugliness of the world

“Do not pity the dead, Harry.

Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love”.

Since Amy Winehouse's death last July 23, several people over Facebook have been paid tribute and lamented her death. For many she had fame, money and a big talent even being very young, being then a pity the way she passed away. However, few are those who wonder why, even having fame and money, she was so self-destructive, being several times being caught red-handed drunk and drugged?

We do not need to wait a known worldwide artist to die due to overdose for us to wonder what drives one to drugs and alcohol. A lot of you, readers, might have someone of your family or some friend of yours who has problems with these narcotics. However, few are those who try to help them someway, and lots of people prefer to judge, to avoid and ignore their existence.

The Brazilian people have the big imperfection of refuting everything that can harm their precious “happiness”. The myth that Brazilians are happy is due to their irresponsibility and cowardice to face any situation that may displease them. It is easier to judge and elaborate theories that are totally unfounded and prejudiced. Vapour tears and a need to disguise revolt face the barbarian crimes are nothing but an attempt of showing a humanity that no longer exists since they adopted the carpedienzism of the emotional disguise dictatorship as a life philosophy. Who is not a bigot carpedienzist is labeled as someone unhappy, negative and who should be avoided.

It is necessary, however, to have the discernment to not to appeal to extremes. Nobody needs to be the pathetic bigot carpedienzist – who is the gear that moves out society back –, neither those who are always focused in making the world a better place wanting to help every one. Nobody needs a Bible and being a religious person to fully understand the meaning of “brotherly love”.

What drives one to alcohol and drugs? What all the addicted people have (and do not have) in common? They are all people without a way to follow and that look for relief to their inner desperation through some chemical substance that give them the pleasure sensation. The pleasure ends and they will want it more and more and, without realizing that, they will be losing friends, family, mental sanity and mainly, damaging their heath. Lots of them do not have anyone who can give them psychological comfort that all the human beings need. Of course some people try those substances influenced by friends and the propaganda of a supposed “liberty”, but will be hard for those who have a good mental and familiar structure to cede and use them.

The origin of many problems is the lack of love, either the lack of love from the others to you or the lack of love for yourself. It is not necessary to spend some years at college and graduate as a psychologist or psychiatrist to learn how to develop feelings – and in their case, they are often artificial. Anyone who has sensibility, humanity and social responsibility will not be the one who will criticize the drunks and drugged to hereupon turn them away, but will be the one who will try to help within the limits the sick will establish based, as well, in their willpower to help themselves to go out from their misery.

The addicted people need to look for help and go to rehab and carpedienzists Brazilians need to extirpate their egoism and develop brotherly love. All of us need love.

***

*Opening phrase credits to J.K. Rowling for her book “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”.

July falls

What could take you from heaven to the hell? How is possible to tremble due to cold at Sahara desert? How is it possible to sweat to the heat at Antarctica? How to explain this journey from two extreme points?

It is not the first time we have falls in the month of July. Winter here in Southern Hemisphere, summer in Northern, but the leaves still fall from the trees when it is no longer fall anywhere.

At the begging of the second half of the year, our body's strongest muscle works overtime and the mind is studied by psychologists and undergoes to resistance exams in laboratory.

Glory comes in the begging of the month with e-mails written with purple letters and a new diamonds mine is discovered in South Africa. We get fascinated by the new colors and brights.

We will be surrounded by a fire that warms us during the coldest nights, a heat that make us so glad that we want to contaminate and warm those who feel cold. We are burning, the house is burning and then it happens: KABOOM! The gas cylinder explodes and fire runs out of our control.

You need gas to new explosions and feed the flames, but they fade and the fire extinguishes by itself. The red, yellow and orange disappears to be substituted by the blue. Ashes remain.

Call the fire department! Leave and bring me Delilah, quickly!

Buenos Aires

No estoy más respirando con dificultad, no estoy más ahogandome con la contaminación del aire.

Vivi en la oscuridad. Cerré el portal del parque de diversiones, pero dejé la llave bajo el felpudo. Y la sacaste y andentraste. Las luces volveron a brillar nuevamente. Mi intuición, que no costumbra fallar para las cosas dolorosas, detectó algo diferente. Algo bueno, sincero, transparente como el água de un lago helado islandés.

No estoy más respirando con dificultad, no estoy más ahogandome con la contaminación del aire. Ahora yo respiro buenos aires. No necesito actuar para gustar a alguien. No necesito temer lo que decir y no estoy ansioso con el futuro porque tengo la tranquilidad y la seguridad que yo necesitaba para estar en paz. Puedo mirar a través del água limpia del lago. Todo viene a su tiempo.

La bateria está cargada. Las luces estan brillando. Las flores, florindo. Y el aire está limpio y a mi me gusta respirar estes buenos, buenos aires.

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I lived in darkness. I closed the gates of the amusement park but I left the key under the doormat. And you took it and went inside. Lights got back to shine. My intuition that is not used to fail to painful things, detected something different. Something good, sincere, transparent like the waters of an Iceladic cold lake.

I am not breathing with difficulty anymore as well as I am not suffocating with the air pollution. Now I breath good airs. I do not need to act to please anyone. I do not need to be afraid of what to say and I am not anxious about the future because I have the tranquility and security I needed to be in peace. I can see though the clean water of the lake. Everything comes in the right time.

The battery is charged. The lights are shining. The flowers, blooming. The air is clean and I enjoy breathing these good, good airs.

Iceberg floating on the Antarctic Ocean

A sailor saw it from afar and immediately rang the bell to alert all the crew to the imminent crash. A huge iceberg was in the route of the powerful superliner.

Summer afternoon. Blue sky with no clouds. The calm sea. An iceberg moving through the iced water waves of the Antarctic Ocean. A picture with different hues of blue. The gather of the three states of matter: the liquid of the water, the solid of the iceberg and the gas of the freezing wind. The element of life. What do you see: coldness or inertia?

There is the possibility of founding something very precious in the iceberg core. What might have inside is not certain, just like we do not know if it lasts or not. But whatever it is, it is something that everybody wishes for some period of time.

Break the ice someway, let's pioneer it, figure out what it hides, what is the Kinder Surprise. What about using a pickaxe? But is not it dangerous to damage it? Let's lick the ice. But is not it dangerous for our tongue to be glued on it? Let's perforate it with our fingernails, or dry with a towel. But do not we run the risk of gangrening our hands?

Hey, what about some heat? Yeah, safe and effective. However it requires patience, a lot of patience. Many times waiting the ice to melt tires us, so we leave to explore another iceberg – that will also take too long to melt. How to reach its nucleus? Sun is powerless here. The concentration of the heat of the sunray of a shy Sun through the lens of the magnifying glass does not help much. Global warming and the ozone layer hole have accelerated the melting process, but it causes destruction and chaos.

Almost a century ago, Titanic crashed against an iceberg in a late night on April 1912. The unsinkable ship sank. And together, sank the dreams of a new life in a new land. Was Titanic moving too fast or was it the inertia of the big block of ice floating on the sea that damaged it?

It is fascinating and instigate us to figure out its reward. We may explore it and find out nothing at all. There is the risk of the iceberg cracking and falling on us. It is like our lives rely on this prospecting. Mysterious, motionless and quiet. It sees itself being breaking and invaded, but it does not react. Need it to be broken? Hard, impenetrable, letardy and cold... it kills the treasures hunter, makes him angry, upset and disappointed.

Even with the penguins company, the iceberg can live both with their company and without it. Alone and independent. It looks transparent but nobody can see through it. The iceberg is surrounded by the water of the Antarctic Ocean, being carried away by the waves, either about to be explored or about to destroy the ships that come to its way.

VANGELIS - Antarctica by petersonflr

Amusement park

The amusement park has closed. After so many accidents, it was decided that it was the right thing to be done. It was time to a reconstruction, an analysis and stop the amusement rides engines.

The environment was often visited by children. And it was not just an amusement but but a little universe to be explored. The lost treasure, the dukes swimming on the lake, the picnic under the Pohutukawa Cornwallis tree, the sunset and the emerald mountains.

A mysterious voice came from outside and a curious child had heard his name. The voice told it would want to come in and the child, innocent and willing to bring the unknown friend to those wonderful world he already knew, was ran over by a truck when trying to cross the street. That happy place had gone sad.

Some weeks later, the joy returned. One more call, one more child trying to bring the one who was calling hum. One more death. The joy ceded to sadness a second time.

After these deaths, thing were not the same, glad and happy as it was before. Having fun had became harder. The smile was no longer being spontaneous, but a grin to show a false fun and sympathy.

The public was decreasing. Internal accidents caused more deaths. One child flied from the roller coaster. Nobody noticed. A child broke her legs in the bumper car. Nobody went to help her. A child yelled for help while he was being swallowed by a boa constrictor. Nobody neither saw nor heard. Nobody wanted to believe. They decided to ignore.

The marketing was not working anymore. The more promotion, the less people. Even all the good things the amusement park could offer, nobody wanted to go there. At most, they called the children expecting them to risk their lives and get hurt – or die. They glanced through the cracks on the wall. They presumed the place was a crying shame and that nothing interesting could be in the inside then, they turned around and walked back to home.

Then it was decided to close it. It was not easy to resign from the joy of those who had already had fun in that little world barely known, but it was necessary. It was necessary to fix the amusement rides, to water the flowers, to mow the grass, to clean everything and to put garbage into the garbage can. It was necessary recreate, revitalize and it could only be done with the doors closed.

Who wants to come in must wait the reconstruction to be finished in order to not get hut. The administration believes that is not necessary to spend time and money on marketing, because there is already too much. Who wants to enter after the reconstruction will be welcome, those who does not want, should be away and this one will never know what is losing and what could be enjoying.

We inform the amusement park is closed for revitalization. Nobody will suffer an accident anymore. We no longer will invest in ads to avoid a bankruptcy. Those who want to have fun here now must wait the revitalization to be over.

Smell of caramel

Everything has begun in that cold morning, when the Sun painted the city of orange and filled my day of heat and light.

That Tuesday could be like the previous days: boring! But it was not. And it had the ingredients for such a thing. Sleeping just three hours in order to get medical examination in a public health center with a shit pot inside the backpack, as well as the cold of the fall could have made the day harder.

A lot of people complain of waking up early. It is not very pleasant having to wake up, leaving the heat of the bed to face the cold and all the annoying situations at work and a possible morning traffic jam indeed. The morning period can make all the difference during the rest of the day. It is the prettiest period of the day of all.

When the Sun rose and illuminated little by little the cars of the federal highway, the billboards and facades of the stores with its tones of orange, more vivid and intense every minute, filling the city of life, it was foreseen that the day was going to be good. The confirmation came when Andrea Corr started to sing “Tinseltown In The Rain” on my mind. Thank you, Andrea.

Some people can be so close, but so far from others. And one of them was on the other side of the highway. I reminded him when I was coming and I saw the red with white waves logo. And he has been figuring my thoughts every day since I met him – virtually. Obviously, he might have no idea of it. I wondered of what he could be doing but, mainly, what he was feeling.

Loving is a very good feeling, the best one person can ever feel. The pain on loving and do not be loved is proportionally inverse. Time is a bitter medicine and it is not in small glass vials, but in barrels. It was not love, it was not. It was not love, it was a trap. A sadistic smile upon the face of the one who had the heart broken by the beloved one. The affection object now was also suffering the pain of loving and not being loved. He focused in the wrong one and ignored that one who could be the right one. It serves you right!

It was not a brilliant day, but it was a nice day. And deserved. After weeks of stress at work, finger slashes, oral mucosa slashes and food reservations, and the committal days to put the things in order, a happy day was more than deserved.

The smell of caramel was somewhere in the room. Or was it steeped on the cloak? The laugh came easily, even in the presence of crabby people. The reflexions too and the sureness that those Tuesday was being a happy day, without the need of being perfect. The things flew as if I had drunk a dose of Felix Felicis.

Just like love, happiness is a feeling so nice that it does not matter if it is true or not. There is no space for fears and doubts when a person feels that. He only wants to feel it and make it last forever, if possible.

Everything has begun in that cold morning, when the Sun painted the city of orange and filled my day of heat and light.

The poet

Love is not for the weak ones.

What goes around, comes around. The poet, even with his wonderful speech, his sweet and irresistible words, his big heart full of love, sleeps in the sink, sleeps in the bench of the square, sleeps alone. The fact of you knowing something deeply, does not mean that you worth it or really know it, or want it.

Love is not for the weak ones. The poet does not know what he wants. He wants to be loved, but he does not allow himself to love. He writes poetry on the restrooms doors, reads Sabrina, reads Twilight, watches chick flicks movies, listens to romantic songs, he collects love letters. He is graduated, post-graduated, master, doctor, postdoc in Love Science. But he has never experienced it

The poet is an emotional homicide, perhaps a serial-killer and a suicide as well, why not? Poor are those hearts that fell in love with him, got hurt and tried a second, third, forth, fifth chance to the poet to love them. Oh, but the poet is superior, too intolerant, too proud, too inflexible. No one is at his level.

Who loses in love game? Who loses in the divination game? Who can read the poet mind and enunciate all that he wants you to say to him, all he expects you to do? In order to love the poet, you have be his dreamboat riding a white horse.

What's up, poet, have you been kissing lots of frogs? Frogs that hurt you when they play with your heart, just like you did with those who loved you and were forlorn? Oh, my God! You were cheated and became a Horned Frog? Cry, poet, cry. Love has passed so many times by you and you always rejected it due to your fear, pride, intolerance. His superior love only brought you insomnia, worthless lessons, unnecessary scars and your everlasting loneliness.

Yes, poet, you are losing people, closing doors, locking yourself inside your SHU and throwing the keys out under the door. While you go crazy because of your never achieved love, people your hurt thank to God you kicked out them from your sad life. You avoided them from more unnecessary scars, from a confusing and worthlessly painful. They do not run the risk of suffering for someone who was too low of your emotional extent, of loving someone who knew too much about love in theory and nothing about love in practice.

NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS - O Children

Cancer

What really kills us is the cancer.

The doctors can declare us dead whatever they want, but what really kills us is the cancer. There is no way to escape from this disease, we are exposed to it since our very first day of life. It is unavoidable because we live with humans... there is not another creature as carcinogen as this one.

Researches show that the most severe cases of cancer occurs in areas where there is a huge spiritual misery concentration, a reflexion of the other cases of misery. However, those who are most likely to suffer its symptoms are those who have a better intellectual development, once they notice that their intelligence does not help much either themselves or the others.

The core of our society has a malevolent tumor that has been mowing the life of a lot of people. The spiritual death comes before the body death, people are just zombies. The familiar institution does not exist since a long time, except for few families where love and moral values bright as lightning bugs on the farm. Home violence, children defying their parents, parents that do not respect themselves. Alcoholism, drugs, prostitution, early pregnancy, toss off marriage. No family can be strong this way.

At traffic, either inside your car or inside a public mean of transportation, we feel so much anger that our hairs fall down. It is not baldness, it is not a fallout due to chemotherapy, it is just this fucking cancer. Traffic jam, mad people of the evening. The idiots give us a show of lack of respect when they sit on two seats, the seat provided to the elderly, when they want to share their musical bad taste through the cell phone, or when they make the jam as stressful as it already is by honking excessively.

Children learn at school that most of them will have no future and that they will be at the bottom of the social inequality pyramid. We learn how to read and write, the government want us to be stupids, so everything can remain the way it is, where the rich men keep rich and poor men keep being poor. What a wonderful world.

Let's drink our cyanide juice. Let's cheer the death. Viva Jim Jones! Viva the religious bigotry. Viva the hate, the prejudice, the sadism, the tragedy, the dishonesty, the never-stopping criticism.

It is not necessary to be ran over by a drunk driver, to be stabbed by your husband, to have a head shot, to suffer due to cirrhosis or have a heart attack and agonize in a hospital corridor to die. We are already died since a long time, we are zombies. What really kills us is this cancer, it is having no choice but live together with these less intelligent suicides that want to take us with them. It is the cancer that kills us day buy day, little by little, slow and painfully...

The obvious non-proved

If I could foresee the outcome of the obvious non-proved, I would get less stressed than the usual.

No dog barking, no child crying, no woman yelling. There is peace at 4am and ideas take shape when the lead pencil slides on the paper without so many interruptions caused by hesitations.

The boy wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up. He did grow up and he was not a boy anymore but not yet a man. In an ordinary day, he was noticed about a voyage to the Moon by Twitter. He decided to know more about, to let the organizers know, showing he was interested.

In the begging, his e-mails used to be answered but after some time, he stayed in the vacuum – not in the vacuum of the Space. The inbox remained empty. One month later, when researching about this promotion over Google, he found out that the space shuttle had already gone. He felt two different feelings at the same time: relief of finally knowing the outcome of the promotion, but unhappiness of not being selected.

Since then, his head, that had already been busy with anxiety due to not have any reply during this one month, reserved some space to more doubts enemies of the peace of spirit: where did I go wrong? Have I lost so many time beating around the bush due to my necessity of having the total control of the things? Should I had gone straight to the point? Was not me good enough for the voyage? Was not the voyage good enough for me?

Now he could only theorize. What if...? Perhaps... Ellipsis... Perhaps this was not the time and I should wait for one more opportunity... opportunity that does not appear any time. Perhaps it would have been better and I would have spared myself from something unpleasant. Perhaps I did lose the chance of stepping on the Moon, and check if it is made of cheese. Emmental or gruyère?

Now the space shuttle had already gone and all the man-boy could do was to accept the facts and choose to either chew his doubts or swallow them at all. Perhaps the voyage was one more of his desires, but are a necessity and a desire just frivolous wishes? Perhaps the crew of the shuttle will have a unique, wonderful, unforgettable experience and the man who wished to become an astronaut will never have. Or perhaps they are going to meet the Death by being devoured by the Sun.

If I could foresee the outcome of the obvious non-proved, I would get less stressed than the usual.

Chicken pox

There is the wish of understanding... or shutting up.

It was not a metaphor. It was just a narrative of how is being sick. Narrating the fact is something mechanical. Metaphors exercise the brain, develop creativity, instigate curiosity. The implicit can be more exciting than the explicit.

Writing relieves. It is a way to get rid of what makes us restive. A lot of times it helps more than a transparent conversation. We talk to ourselves. We are not naive to believe that an agreement head move means that there is empathy or total comprehension. There is the wish of understanding... or shutting up. It is a monologue and only us are those who can understand it.

Screaming is unhelpful because everybody screams at the same time than you. When you throw a flare to the sky, you get disappoint when you know you have done this on January 1st at the midnight. There is a hope that someone notices your S.O.S. signal within the tsunami of egocentric and worthless information. Do not count on it.

We should be sleeping, we have an appointment tomorrow morning, but we are here hearing about a horse race on snow at BandNews while we write. The stomach complains of hungry. We neither have the desire of sleeping nor the worry of being tired all day long. We do not have the desire of waking up when we are sleeping as well.

There are some things we do not like to talk about, neither to show, but we would like people to notice them. Once more anxiety drives us to bad mood. We are waiting for an answer that never comes. We are wondering about what they really want and why that person who used to be kind, polite and receptive turned into a mute one who ignores our presence.

It will not last forever, we know. The slash on my finger will heal itself and the stress will die down. We are begging some respect and attention just like everybody. We want to get rid from this evil-minded people. We want our freedom, time and friends back. We want to feel the heat of the Sun, the wind, the rain, the cold again. We want to live one more time and feel sincerely happy. Where is that smile that used to be upon our faces?

THE SMITHS - How Soon Is Now

United States of Mine

For every environment, in front of every person we adopt a unique posture, we adopt a suitable “me”, a language and a particular behavior.

It is interesting how a reality show like “Big Brother Brazil”, strongly criticized by its “bad examples” to our puritan and conservative society, can a be a source of relevant themes to be debated in what pertains to human and society behavior. Just to give an example, one of the main concerns of the housemates is being themselves. But what is it be yourself?

Perhaps one of the most plausible answers is “to behave as you usually do being coherent with what you think and feel”. This thought makes sense, however, it is important to keep in mind that is impossible to establish a kind of profile about who you are.

First of all, we all know that we change as the days, months and years goes by. We might have enjoyed very much something in the past and today we do not enjoy it anymore, or the opposite, we might have hated something in the past and now we love it. Second of all, what is the expire date of a relatively trustworthy profile about who we are?

Not only time can change our vision we and others have concerning our personality. The environment also “shapes” us, as well as people that share this environment with us. For example, the vocabulary we use and jokes we make not always are those we use with who works with us. A person may be glad, playful and funny with a certain group of people, at the same time this one may be more serious and tough with others. Have not this one being “himself” in some of these situations?

In a Big Brother, a housemate may feel intimidated by the cameras, to the exposition and constantly judgment from his house colleagues and the TV audience. He may end up out there being someone he have never imagined to be perhaps because he measured too much his words in order to not displease anyone, as well he may have walked over who dared to try to stop his plans. We can discover a new “me” in situations like these. And we are a bunch of “mes”, we have multiple profiles , almost all of them very similar in its essence, but never identical. For every environment, in front of every person we adopt a unique posture, we adopt a suitable “me”, a language and a particular behavior.

What is “being yourself”? Which are your different “mes” to different people and environments? And when are you being loyal to your essence and when are you fooling others and yourself?

Creativity, where are you?

What happened to creativity during the 20th century? Will we be always with an eye in the past looking for something pseudo-new?

In 1997, the British writer J. K. Rowling released the first Harry Potter series book, “Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone”, that became a worldwide best seller and then a movie by Warner Bros in 2001. Since then, Harry Potter became a global phenomenon, breaking selling books records when a new one was released and of viewers at the movies. Central theme: witches.

In 2008, another phenomenon among teenagers also went out from the books straight to the big screen: the Twilight saga. It was not as successful as Harry Potter, but it made lots fans around the world to fall in love with the story, as well it was strongly criticized. Central theme: vampires and werewolfs.

In 2010, the American TV network Fox releases “The Walking Dead” after the end of one of the most successful TV series, “Lost”. Central theme: zombies.

These are some examples of movies and TV series that made a worldwide success. Their central themes included witches, vampires, werewolves and zombies. What do they have in common?

Well, they are all fiction stories, fantasy. We can also notice that tales about these beings and creatures are not anything new. Even Disney's fairytales tells us stories with the same characters: the prince, the princess and the evil witch. What happened to creativity during the 20th century? What about the 21st?

We do not live in the Dark Age anymore and church no longer has the power to send supposed “demons” to the bonfire, we can not blame anyone due to sorcery for our “sin” to be understandable. We are so enlightened and skeptic that imagination is missing and even children are told since they are very young that the Easter rabbit and Santa Claus do not exist. Magic has gone. They become adult people with a little creativity, the grow up pale, skeptic, too much down to Earth.

Will we be always with an eye in the past looking for something pseudo-new? Will fashion always looking something retro or vintage to the model to show in the fashion show walkaway? Will the movie makes always be looking the best seller books list to know which of them could turn out to be a movie?

Inspiring in ancient tales helps to keep the folklore are mythology alive. Witches, zombies, werewolves, gladiators, god and demigods will not the forgotten soon. Will we be a generation of restores that will not contribute with anything new due to our lack of creativity?

Fever

I can not think, I can not feel. I just know I am not well. I am in stand by, I am operating in automatic pilot. I am in lethargy state, I have a fever.

I hear the sound of the TV set coming from somewhere, but my ears are muffled and I can barely hear, besides I am even paying attention on what they say.

There are some black clouds in the sky. I do not know if it is hot or if the temperature is nive. The Sun is warm, its bright is not glittering and the colors are pale, as if I was inside a 1970's color TV.

I am sick in on my bed covered from my toes to my hairs by my blanket. My body is tired and even the more I remain laying down, I can not rest. I do not know who I am feeling. I am not in a good mood, but I am not in a bad mood. I am not happy, but I am not sad. I do not want a companion, but I do not want to be alone. I am not feeling like living, but I do not feel like dying.

I can not think, I can not feel. I just know I am not well. I am in stand by, I am operating in automatic pilot. I am in lethargy state, I have a fever.

BOLSHOI - Sunday Morning by petersonflr

Changing to please

They expect a perfection that does not exist, they do recognize perfection is unreachable, however they demand perfection the same way.

Tusky has thrown his stars to the sky. Would he want to extravasate his hopes and dreams that suppress him delightfully? Would he want to decorate your sky with stars, illuminating your dark night? He probably wanted both.

What a controversy they expect from us. They ask us for us to be sincere, but they are not mature enough to face the truth, not nice all the time. They say that making mistakes is natural from human nature, but they are always ready to throw Sakineh's stones against your head. They expect a perfection that does not exist, they do recognize perfection is unreachable, however they demand perfection the same way. Everything must be measured, thought and rethought, polished and disposed. We lost spontaneity.

Amortentia and witchcraft do not work for us, the stupid muggles. However, even they would work, love would not be sincere and natural but imposed. Slaves of a spell, an unilateral love. Love yourself, a shotgun wedding would not make your man to marry you for love, he would do it for obligation.

Would you like to love unilaterally anyone, a friend, a boyfriend, whoever? Do you really have to stop being yourself in order to change to please someone that does not love you enough to accept you the way you are?

Be yourself. Do not follow a script written for some stupid guy that wants to hear only the things he want. Is it worth to sacrifice your values, opinions, feelings and believes for someone who does not care about you?

Lady Gaga said the God makes no mistakes, that you are beautiful in your way, you were born this way, I am sorry. Katy Perry said the there is a spark on you, that maybe the reason why all the doors are closed is that you could open the one that leads you to the perfect road, and you will know the time to let your light to shine. Pitty asked you to show you off for her and then she will know if she likes your real way to be.

So when the affection is bilateral you will be able to enjoy the feeling of being truly beloved for someone. You will be able to live and feel everything intensely instead of living the superficiality of lies and pretending. Do not be a puppet, do not follow a script, throw it away. Live your live. It is yours, not theirs.