boy with the green eyes

I am a dreamer [and a wizard]
Look into my eyes and believe.
I’ will take your hand, hold you,
and take you where dreams and wishes come true
'cause if you believe hard enough, everything is possible

zorro

eu quero,
andar contigo de braço dado,
e a rua toda de olho arregalado,
a perguntar 'como é que conseguiu?'
eu puxo da humildade da minha pessoa,
digo da forma que menos magoa:
'foi fácil, ela é que pediu'

addiction

I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I have peace of mind
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me...

true romance [beggining and end speech]

l had to come all the way from the highways and byways of Tallahassee, Florida to Motor City, Detroit to find my true love. lf you gave me a million years to ponder, l would never have guessed that true romance and Detroit would go together. And to this day, the events that followed all seem like a distant dream. But the dream was real and was to change our lives forever. l kept asking Clarence why our world seemed to be collapsing and everything seemed so shitty. And he d say: "That s the way it goes. But don t forget, it goes the other way too. That s the way romance is. Usually that s the way it goes. But every once in a while, it goes the other way too.

(...)

Amid the chaos of that day when all l could hear was the thunder of gunshots and all l could smell was the violence in the air, l look back and am amazed that my thoughts were so clear and true. That three words went through my mind endlessly. Repeating themselves like a broken record.

You re so cool.
You re so cool.
You re so cool.

And sometimes Clarence asks me what would l have done if he had died. lf that bullet had been two inches more to the left. To this, l always smile. As if l m not going to satisfy him with a response. But l always do. l tell him of how l would want to die. But that the anguish and the want of death would fade like the stars at dawn. And that things would be much like they are now. Perhaps. Except maybe l wouldn t have named our son... Elvis.

my girl

My girl knows my million and one smiles and faces, the fake ones, and those that are hers exclusively. She sees right through me, she sees what’s going on in my soul and in my heart even when I try to shut the world out. My girl knows my strength and that I would travel the world, heaven or hell, to face and fight whatever daemons, ghosts, fears or challenges that come up; that whatever happens I’ll always give my best: heart, mind and soul to face them, to protect her, and that I won’t quit until I get there or she asks me to... She knows my weaknesses, that my greatest fear is loosing her or being betrayed. I am always [and always will be] there for her, no matter what: help her heal, dry her tears, listen or just be at her side. She knows I like to be challenged, she never lets me be lazy, give poor excuses or be a lesser man. My girl knows that even when I’m deeply concentrated on solving the mysteries of the universe, travelling thousands of miles away, working hard or just hanging out with friends, I always carry her in my heart and that makes me a better man. My girl knows that I have a temper, and only she can calm [the monster within] me when I’m mad at the world.

My girl is beautiful and when she gets into a room alone, glowing as always, everybody stares asking - “who is she?” - it is then that I take her by the arm, and with a proud smile, I let her shine. Even sick, sleepless or exhausted, she always glitters in my eyes. She is strong and fights for what [and who] she believes in [she believes in many things]. My girl has a temper too, she's stubborn: she always tries to get her own way on every argument, trying all sorts of ways [and tricks] to get it: reason, anger, sadness, teasing, whatever works that [she knows] will either trap my mind or my heart. She picks up fights whenever I’m not paying enough attention, just because making up is so good. She is always by my side, and knows exactly when I need a hug. My girl sees the world her own way, teaching me how to see beauty in all sorts of places. She believes in the power of dreams and faith, and that every wish may come true, if you rise up to it and follow it. She introduced me a fascinating world worth exploring, full of life, colour and feelings. She has a much better heart than I have, there’s [a goddess like] kindness and purity in her. She is patient, listening to me even when I’m only talking non-sense or I get too carried away. My girl loves music, and when we dance, the world stops to watch us and let us through. She is sexy and knows how to tease: with just a blink of her eyes, and that look she does to me [the way only she knows how], she awakens all the cells in my body making me take her into my arms in a long passionate love.

My girl fought for me and broke the ice in my heart, loving me unconditionally. For that and much more, she’s the person I most admire and love. There’s no other in this [or any other] world like her. The One that taught me to love, to believe and to have faith. The One who fills my life and truly makes me happy[, the luckiest man]. She’s the One: my girl.

new york city marathon 2009

... já estou inscrito, a ver se aceitam a inscrição....

bad temper and murder looks

it's not monday but... how I hate having to deal with dumb people....

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the first.
Albert Einstein

se é para jogar, que se joguem as fichas todas...

"Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without.



If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart.



I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived"



William Parrish (Anthony Hopkins) in Meet Joe Black

we complicate things

if only have about 7% chance to meet the person that you will want to spend our life with [on the best of all the possible outcomes], it comes as no surprise that we tend to close ourselves and not to let new people in: the probability of disappointment and hurting, is just too big.

However, there is a catch-22 to this game, in order to achieve the upper levels of love and intimacy, one should let go with clear mind, open heart, and not be frightful of what may happen, that will only lower your chances to work out and it may prevent you to be truly happy i.e. you need to be true, follow your instincts, reason, and heart to move upwards in the relationships roadmap

(click on picture to enlarge)



This roadmap is from a man's point of view, and is only applicable to "boy meets girl situation", it is a simplified version of real life. At any given level (any at all), if the person surprises, a new situation arises, or you just see the person on a different light [for better or worse], then you should start from the beginning and reassess your position.

the dark one

You have summoned me. You desperately needed me. I am the bastard son of the sixth, of the sixth, of the sixth priest. My bare existence is a sin, and proof of human weakness. My powers know no limits and my heart is dark.

I stand by you on the crossroads of your life, I always point you the easy way [which isn’t, of course, the best one]. I don’t judge you nor tell you what to do [and that is why you need me so bad], you remain the same to me whatever you do. I may, however, tilt you for the easy conquests, immediate pleasure, or anything that pleases me in making you do so. I’ll praise you, making you believe you’re anything special, just to break you for my own delight.

I know you’re weak: your dark desires, failures, disappointments, treasons and crimes are just something that I would expect. I now control every single move of yours, and since you’re so proud, you’ll never be able to get out of my spell.

You weren’t like this; you were even once immune to me – holding yourself to the what-so-called God of yours. But I am always alert, I noticed how you changed and at the first opportunity, I started my own workings.

On the day you were down and weak, I started whispering. Singing. Luring you to my own trap. I showed you the greatest human desires, and made you believe they were your own. The masterpiece was, I admit, making you to fall in love with me.

You see, the only way you could’ve not fallen [and I hold in so low esteem, that I may even tell you this, knowing that it will never backfire], was by not being selfish. Only truth, purity of feelings, actions and selfless love can break my spells, and are immune to my curse. Luckily you have none. You can only think, praise and whine on yourself. The rest of the world is there to feed your own ego. And I led you to think, I was like anyone else. The game was set, and I wanted to play.

I let you believe you loved, and led you to believe that you were loved back [it was so much fun]. I got to seed jealousy, hatred and lies into your heart. I left you in a permanent state of doubt and confusion. Everything I did was ambiguous, none of it was complete. I released small ideas, pretending feelings so that you, filling in the gaps, created your own illusion. I never committed, but I never let you go. I never went for a full blow, but slowly tortured you, hurting and diminishing you day by day. I even took away your sleep and dreams, and watched you pathetically fight for a love that simply didn’t exist.

You thought of yourself noble, but I managed to completely poison your heart. Tainted it black. Patiently, I fed you with your own [old and new] fears, allowing them grow bigger. Showing you twisted images, and telling you incomplete stories to let jealously, obsession and suspicion corrupt your heart. You’re trapped in yourself, in a dark pit of human pain and despair. And the greatest thing of all is that I even managed to make you give your own soul away, just for the promise of [a fake and selfish] love.

Now, you will corrupt anyone who comes along and unless someone can break the enchantment [which I seriously doubt], your life will be void, unhappy and meaningless. You will spread my venom, my work of art.

You stood no chance.

just like a woman

Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Ev'rybody knows
That Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls.

Queen Mary, she's my friend
Yes, I believe I'll go see her again
Nobody has to guess
That Baby can't be blessed
Till she sees finally that she's like all the rest
With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls.

It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that--
I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit

When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.

Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes, you do
You take just like a woman, yes, you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl.

was it ever real?

if a lightning falls, and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?

I shall still live for a long time...

Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito, repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, quien no cambia de marca, no arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce.

Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las "íes" a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.

Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.

Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en sí mismo.
Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar.
Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte o de la lluvia incesante.
Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce o no respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.

Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar. Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos una espléndida felicidad.

Pablo Neruda

the trouble with having an open mind is...

...of course, that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it

Terry Pratchett

estória de um ponto final

Era uma vez um ponto final que se sentia triste, vazio e não sabia o que fazer. O ponto final via os outros sinais à sua volta, e sentia que ainda não tinha encontrado o seu lugar no mundo. Admirava os seus irmãos mais velhos, o ponto de interrogação e o ponto de exclamação, que suscitavam as maiores inquietações e os sentimentos mais nobres e mais crús de autores, e pensava sempre que nunca poderia seguir os seus passos. Afinal, ele era o fim de tudo, quem terminava, a bem ou a mal, e não deixava espaço para mais.

Até os seus primos parêntesis tinham funções nobres. O parêntesis curvo adicionava sempre um ponto à narrativa (i.e. era o rei dos exemplos ou das explicações retiradas de contexto). O parêntesis recto, era o amante de poetas e criativos: criava espaços e narrativas alternativas [ou apenas comentários do próprio autor].

O ponto final sentia até inveja da vírgula, e do ponto normal. Além de estarem rodeados da acção, os dois adicionavam afirmações às frases, introduziam novos conceitos, completavam parágrafos e marcavam o ritmo da narrativa. Sentia inveja do caso que tinham. Quando estavam juntos formavam o ponto e vírgula; criavam algo de novo, e apesar de ser um compromisso entre o efeito dos dois, davam mais sentido à narrativa e marcavam o ritmo de uma boa história.

Um dia, passeando tristonho e pensativo, perdido entre as linhas de um conto e questionando-se do sentido da sua vocação, o ponto final encontrou a dois pontos: foi amor à primeira vista.
“Tu és a forma gramatical mais bonita que alguma vez conheci: introduzes novas ideias, completas e dás mais cor às frases, abres novos mundos podendo mudar uma história completamente ou ser a figura mais usada nos documentos descritivos. Como é possível haver algum ponto tão perfeito?” – soltou o ponto final. “Mas, então e tu?” – respondeu-lhe a dois pontos, com um sorriso de reconhecimento – “tu és o final de tudo, nada te escapa. Tu completas as ideias, terminas o trabalho dos autores. És a razão que mais angustia os escritores, todos te procuram, estás presente em tudo o que se escreve e agora estás aqui.” Os olhos dos dois brilhavam, e cheios de esperança no coração, abraçaram-se num abraço sem idade. Os restantes sinais não compreendiam como dois sinais tão diferentes poderiam estar juntos: não tinham nada a ver: as aspas retorciam-se quando os viam, e a própria cedilha afirmou que eles não poderiam durar.

No entanto, nunca o mundo da gramática tinha conhecido amor tão forte. Juntos, conquistaram poetas, contadores de histórias e apaixonados. Estão juntos tanto em épicos como em cartas de amor, e são os preferidos de todos aqueles os que têm esperança e imaginação. Deixando a narrativa, e a vida, muito para além que um simples livro. Juntos, criaram as reticências, e viveram felizes para sempre...

there are several authors to this blog...

... and they all live within the same person

heartbroken

pensas que é fácil sentir a tua falta constantemente,
e ficar em suspenso à espera de saber de ti?
pensas que é fácil sonhar contigo,
acordar e ver que não estás ao meu lado?
pensas que é fácil sentir os teus empurrões,
mas mesmo assim voltar para ti,
porque sei que precisas sarar as tuas feridas?
pensas que é fácil ouvir-te falar do outro,
de quem te magoou, abusou e de quem dizes que serás sempre fiel,
quando eu não saio do teu lado e só te quero fazer feliz?
pensas que é fácil não me interessar por nada nem ninguém,
e estares constantemente a dizer-me que não confias em mim?
pensas que é fácil sentir o meu coração bater outra vez,
para depois o ver ser despedaçado?
pensas que é fácil saber de todos os homens que te seguem,
de saber que estás com eles [mesmo sem outras intenções],
enquanto tu me manténs longe?
pensas que é fácil só querer ouvir a tua voz, sentir o teu abraço,
para depois me dizeres que nem sequer tens saudades?
pensas que é fácil ouvir-te dizer que me adoras,
mas que depois foges e não me deixas fazer parte da tua vida?
pensas que é fácil ouvir-te prometer que não me abandonas,
mas que quando preciso, nunca estás lá?
pensas que é fácil enfrentar o vazio de cabeça erguida,
porque desde que te descobri, que não existe mais nada?
pensas que é fácil estar ferido e magoado,
mas mesmo assim não te abandonar,
porque demasiada gente o faz?
pensas que é fácil tentar encher a minha vida de ruído,
festas, e todas as coisas que consigam [nem que seja por um instante],
esquecer o quanto sinto a tua falta, quando a única coisa que quero,
é sentir que estás ao meu lado?
pensas que é fácil saber o que quero, o que mais sinto falta, estar disposto a largar tudo,
e ver-te incapaz de decidir o teu caminho, a recusar a ajuda de quem mais gosta de ti,
a não te comprometeres com nada nem ninguém,
e a quereres deixar o mundo todo em aberto?
pensas que é fácil amar-te perdidamente,
quando tu nem sequer sabes o que é o amor?
assim, antes que me julgues, sentencies e executes,
pensa um pouco em mim

prime numbers

a prime number is a lonely thing: it can only be divided by itself, or by one; it never truly fits with another.

A. and M. are also alone, each haunted by trauma. M. bears the scars of disapointment and lost dreams, and A. lives with a guilty secret that lies deep in his heart. When they met, they recognised in the other a kindred, damaged spirit.

As they grow, their destinies seem irrevocably intertwined: they are divisible only by themselves and each other. But when the gifted M. has the chance to suceed thousands of miles away, it seems that love, or its loss, might just be a game of numbers after all; until a chance of destiny awakens a lifetime of hidden emotion to the surface...

As we get crushed by loneliness, love and the weight of past experiences, we ask: can we ever be whole when we’re in love with another? how much of ourselves do we give away? how much hurt can we stand?

what's it all about? [monday morning blues after a weekend jet lagged night]

It is more than just a forced act, fake words, or grudgingly executed actions.

Instead love is something that compels us to put another person first, to allow ourselves to change, to give, to forgive, to protect, to trust, to hope, and to persevere. While the minimal surface-level "love" [that some people around me seem to] pursue in [their] own life is very often the deepest level of care/concern/intimacy [they] are willing to let into their lives, the love that answers [this] question seems to be one that is not afraid to go deeper, risk more, build one another up instead of tearing each other down, and be real.

More than just an abstract concept that we each must figure out own our own, however, this love that asks us to go deeper than surface level is a love that is offered us all every day, ready to help us find a life of true fulfillment, offering forgiveness whenever we mess up, seeking to repair every crack and flaw in our imperfect lives, and simply asking us to trust in that love and share it with those around us.

people don't fall in love [they recognise the one they always sought]

Julián siguió al muchacho dócilmente, pero el mundo le resbalaba. Por primera vez [en su vida] comprendió el propósito. Había soñado con ella en incontables ocasiones, con aquella misma escalera, aquel vestido azul y aquel giro en la mirada de ceniza, sin saber quién era ni por qué le sonreía (…) entonces volvió la vista atrás y la vio, en su ventana del segundo piso. Apenas distinguía su silueta, pero supo que le estaba sonriendo y que, de alguna manera, también ella le había reconocido.

ArCoed

i was lost...

... but somehow I healed into a new journey: this time there's no map, no compass, no rules. I don't need them anymore. I know where I want go. Mind and heart show me the way, not the whole way through but step by step. And never before have I seen so clearly nor my steps were so secure.

I may not be able to save the world...

... but if you need me, I'm always here

book of shadows

This is not a story, nor a tale. It is about a book [that I keep close to bed], which some say has dark powers, from wicked witchcraft. Others say it was created by the devil himself, to lure men into his traps. I say it has no faith, and all his darkness comes from men himself.
It is old [as all the magic books are], and has chosen me to be his keeper [for now].

Glowing in octarine, the book has sought me in my sleep: images and promises of brighter futures, of maps and guides to ancient and new worlds, to riches, power, love and peace. [I was looking for it, even before I knew]. It seduced me not from a shiny and fascinating place, but from an old bookshelf, in middle of other [old] books. The spell was cast and I was rapt.

The book told me the stories of the wisest, the foolish and the mad, all the previous holders [as it will never be owned] that it chose to change. It allured me into the mist with a simple [unforgettable] tune. It revealed himself as the most powerful of books, it holds the spells and secrets of the universe: it knows its workings and those of Men. The book promised me it all, [but with a price to be settled in the end]. This is the way it works: the book seduces its holders into traps of its own will, promising to fulfil all the desires it can find hidden in their soul.

I’ve read it and written on it, finishing the stories that others have begun and casting old and new spells to get what [I thought] I wanted, everyday losing a piece of my soul. This book holds the darkest secrets of my heart: dreams, love, anger and fears. It has the power to take out the ghosts and fears of your mind and heart, to let you [believe you] control your own destiny and fate in a confidence you never experienced before. My heart grew cold, and like the book itself, my eyes were covered in black.

A Lady appeared, glowing in a strong and soothing white light. She was beautiful; she had long hair, golden sad eyes that held a past she couldn't let go. Her heart was huge, and she managed to see beauty in all the wonders around the world. Despite all her sorrows and pain she held the strength, look and voice that could make empires kneel and turn even the coldest man into her humble slave. She held my hand, and with her love tried to save a helpless cause.

The book couldn't stand her; she was ruining all that it had achieved: she showed a world that couldn't exist to me. Pouring doubts, fear, suspicion, lies and jealousy, the book tried all it could to drive her away. My soul [or what was left of it], was torn between the two worlds causing grieve to everyone around me.

The Lady held my hand a second time and said "trust me", and for a moment the world stood still. She showed me the colours of the world, and how birds dance for people who love each other. She drove away the fears, and healed old wounds. She brought back the music, and taught me how to feel again. Slowly, battle by battle, the book lost its game. Now, my chest burns, in a slow sweet pain. The black eyes turned to green: the spell was broken.

Having saved me, the Lady left, covered by the silence of a rainy night. Her past and sorrows didn't allow her to stay. She would never truly love someone while she didn't healed her own wounds, and faced her own [old magic] book.

Despite no longer having power over me, I keep the book trapped close to my bed [until it manages to break free]: it protects others from falling into his traps, and reminds me, that somewhere, there's a Lady who saved my soul and won my heart, that I truly love and miss.

under my skin [deep in]

No matter how, where and when I am, I can always feel your presence:
you have marked me deep. No matter how I try, you are always in mind: smiling, glowing, the way only you do...
[even if only for a brief moment, and in the middle of hell, it was just so good to hear your voice and your music]

night is darkest just before the dawn

You either die a hero or live [and love] long enough to see yourself become the villain. I can do those things because I'm not a hero, like [others]. I [hurt] those people [and you]. That's what I can be: I'm whatever [you] need me to be.

great songs always have an end

I know it was just a cool thing:
you knew someone you didn't think you could,
you got to have a friend, someone who cared.
I know you meant it well,
and that I'm close to your heart,
but that is all [and enough] for you,
and I'll never be The Someone you love [and trust].
'cause, although innocent and just small things, [in your eyes]
your kisses meant the world to me,
'cause, although friendly and at a guard, [in you heart]
having you in my arms healed my wounds,
'cause, although spontaneous and light hearted, [in your soul]
your words, looks and love, got me free.
it comes to me why I chose not to feel:
all great songs come to end,
in a big [empty] silence, or with the sound fading,
but when I play the music,
my heart always ends up hurting.

destino

the illusion of destiny in one's identity, exacts a remarkably heavy price

myself revealed [olhos nos olhos]

Sou alto e [acho que] não sou feio. Gosto de dançar, de esquecer tudo à volta e apenas sentir a música. Adoro música. Tem o poder de me transportar a lugares que não encontro na minha vida. O som do piano, toca directamente a minha alma como mais nada consegue.
Sou desconfiado por natureza, penso sempre que há segundas intenções na bondade dos outros, quando as coisas são demasiado boas, ou que me estão a tentar impingir alguma coisa. Para o mundo inteiro, eu sou reservado, mas para quem me conhece sou um livro aberto mesmo quando não digo nada. Nunca me revelo ao principio, a não ser que seja forçado a isso. Gosto de descobrir as pessoas, os lugares, a arte, com tempo, e deixar-las entrar lentamente em mim de forma que as sinta plenamente. Não me interessa o que o Mundo pense de mim, mas tenho necessidade de aceitação daqueles que considero importantes.

Embora pareça que tudo me passa ao lado, sinto tudo à minha volta e adoro reparar nos detalhes, nos gestos das pessoas, nos olhares, na voz, na cor, sons e cheiros; parece que ao reparar tudo se torna especial. Acredito na magia dos momentos inesperados, e que se pode encontrar a verdade na espontaneidade. Sou introspectivo, e dentro de mim [para o melhor e para o pior] borbulha sempre um mundo maior que eu.
Sou romântico, acredito a sério no amor eterno, total e incondicional [ainda que dure apenas um segundo], mas ainda não encontrei a minha rainha [ou ela não me encontrou a mim]. Adoro planear, criar e surpreender. Adoro genuinamente todas as pessoas que de uma forma ou outra fazem parte do meu mundo, tenho a consciência que é com elas que aprendo, cresço e posso ser melhor. Adoro os meus amigos e os meus irmão. São meus e completam-me.
Gosto de debater, estar, defender e partilhar o meu mundo, as minha ideias, e quem sou, mas não em vão, e só com as pessoas que respeito de verdade. Sou apaixonado em [quase] tudo o que faço. Sou intenso, entrego-me de corpo e alma e assumo a 100%, ou nem sequer vou a jogo[não vale a pena].
Lido mal com as derrotas, sou muito competitivo, e embora não me ache melhor que ninguém, sei que posso sempre aprender mais e melhor. Sou bom no que faço, profissional, responsável e dedicado, e conquisto quem está comigo. Quero sempre conhecer alguém melhor que eu, porque quero conhecer e aprender. Gosto de ser desafiado: sou focado e estruturado, tento dar o meu máximo e acredito que consigo fazer [quase] tudo aquilo a que me dedico. A minha pior derrota, é sempre aquela que sinto que podia ter feito algo mais...

Não suporto a traição, e a desconfiança corroi-me. Não gosto de jogos de poder, ou de manipulação de sentimentos, e não suporto as pessoas que se alimentam e vivem disso.
Acredito que toda a gente é um mundo, com milhares de possibilidades, virtudes e defeitos. Não gosto de gente que é estúpida por opção, acredito que há pessoas mais limitadas numas áreas mas que toda a gente tem potencial.

Adoro o mar, o universo e o fogo. Sinto-me pequeno ao pé deles e gosto de admirar os seus mistérios nas mais diversas formas.
Sou sério, mas adoro disparatar. Dizer uma série de coisas sem sentido e [/ou] ficar a filosofar sobre os temas mais complexos ou banais horas a fio.
Custa-me equilibrar os meu lados emocional vs. racional, profisisonal vs. pessoal, mas sei que finalmente estou a aprender a lidar com isso [é uma frase que repetirei até ao fim da minha vida].
Adoro escrever. Ser lido. Sinto que a escrita é uma janela para o meu mundo que não consigo monstrar de outra forma, e que é o meu refúgio onde tudo está em paz e equilibrado.
Tenho a mania de levar nos ombros um mundo maior que o meu, e preocupar-me com coisas que não devia nem que têm nada a ver comigo. Fecho-me demasiadas vezes em mim mesmo, não gosto de mostrar que também sou fraco como toda a gente, e prefiro deixar o mundo de fora a mostrar-lo. Normalmente sou forte, e consigo carregar com tudo, mesmo com os problemas de todos os outros [ou pelo menos acho que sim]. Por vezes, sou frágil e preciso de um abraço para afastar os medos e as dúvidas.

Tenho muitas falhas, muitos defeitos. Mas sei que também tenho algumas coisas boas, e que estou constantemente a tentar ser melhor. Sei quem sou. Sou o que sou, e [embora às vezes goste de viver fantasias] não preciso de máscaras nem outras personagens para poder andar de cabeça erguida.

Sem esconderijos, sem refúgios, sem medo, olho para toda a gente olhos nos olhos.

invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

the arrow and the song

There is no privacy that cannot be penetrated.
No secret can be kept in a civilized world.
Society is a masked ball where everyone hides his real character,
then reveals it by hiding.

Ralph Waldo Scott

Today I finally opened up. I found a wiser, elder friend to whom I was able to tell [almost] everything and how lost I feel… [some things I’m still struggling hard with]
I poured away my sorrows, and how shallow and I think they were, yet that I couldn’t drive the pain away, and how that was affecting me.
I exposed myself.
With nothing else to lose, I threw everything I’ve built so hard at risk, cleansed [part] of my soul out.
No weapons, no hiding places, no safe havens, no help, and no turning back
He proudly smiled at me, and said: “don’t think any wrong of this: it means you’re growing. Life for you is no longer a playground, and you cannot accept any longer to be driven by life, but to drive it yourself. This will the time of decisions, of cutting back with the unnecessary, and building your life for real. Whatever comes from it, it will make you solid, give you peace, and bring you true happiness. Don’t rush it, go one step at the time, trust what your heart feels. You’ll be tempted to sulk into sorrow. Don’t let it happen. Know that it is in your hands the changes you’re facing and that you are more than ready to go through them”

I understand it, and feel it in my heart, but the pain still hasn’t gone away.

How can there be love...

... if there is no trust?

petit prince (II)

On ne connaît que les choses que l’on apprivoise, dit le renard. Les hommes n’ont plus le temps de rien connaître. Il achètent des choses toutes faites chez les marchands. Mais comme il n’existe point de marchands d’amis, les hommes n’ont plus d’amis. Si tu veux un ami, apprivoise-moi!

de que vale

De que vale um protesto sem causa?
De que vale uma vírgula sem pausa?
De que vale um momento sem nunca o sentir?

De que vale uma ponte sem leito?
De que vale uma luta sem ter peito?
De que vale um abraço sem o repartir?

De que vale o avesso sem direito?
De que vale o remédio sem efeito?
De que vale ter a força sem o arremesso?
De que vale a partida sem destino?
De que vale o final sem o começo?

Quantas vezes parar não é desistir...Só ficar a ouvir
Quantas vezes esquecer não é p’ra fugir
Quantas vezes calar não é consentir...Só parar p’ra ouvir
Quantas vezes sorrir... não é a fingir

lettre à Sabina

there are some things you should know.
I will charm you, tease you, lure you into my arms. You may have a midnight dance, or a sunrise kiss. We’ll laugh under the starts, dance in the snow and stand out in a crowd. I’ll show you that men and women are always terrified of the unexpected, and show you how feeble are their attempts to control what’s beyond them. I’ll let you savour the beauty of the unique and magic moments when you make your fantasies come true. You will see a universe full of colour, sounds and emotions, where every step may be an adventure, a leap into an unending abyss [, or just a step forward like any other].
But, you will not see me.
I’ll let you see glimpses of me, moments of pure truth. I’ll show you my lair and my kingdoms. Take you to some of my magic places. I’ll even care for you; protect you if [and only if] you need me to. I’ll embrace you and dry your tears when you’re sad. Bring in the champagne when you’re happy. And be there for you [sometimes]. But you will not see, nor have my heart.
For He, is neither mine to keep nor to show. It belongs to Her: my beloved one, my queen and my pain. She’s the only woman with who I can do magic, the one I’m always home with, the only one I gave my love, heart and life to. She’s the one I miss. And although we’re not together, she knows I’m just a whisper away and when she calls [or I find her, whatever comes first], I’ll go to the gates of Heaven [or Hell], just to bring her back. She ran away now, she’s afraid to dream, be happy and in doing so ruining others’ lifes. I am relentlessly and patiently looking for her, as she’s the only one who can make me happy.
So, although I’m here [and I may be playing], my heart is not, and for that, I cannot love you as all my love belongs just to Her.

unbearable lightness of being

...because life occurs only once and never returns, no one's actions have any universal significance. This idea is deemed unbearable because as humans, we want our lives to mean something, for their importance to extend beyond just our immediate surroundings

petit prince (I)

You're lovely, but you're empty," he went on.
"One couldn't die for you. Of course an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than you altogether, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except for two or three for butterflies). Since's she the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose