domingo, dezembro 31
2017
este foi sem dúvida um ano intenso, mudanças radicais na minha vida, conheci pessoas fantásticas, cresci, aprendi a conhecer-me, estive comigo, derrotei medos e desafiei tantos outros. 2018, na verdade i'm not looking forward to it.
quinta-feira, dezembro 28
wht
bitch please, you moved on in october when you started treating me like shit and didn't even cared or noticed.
sexta-feira, dezembro 22
Robin Williams
I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy. Because they know what it feels like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anybody else to feel like that.
quinta-feira, novembro 30
Zé Pedro
Zé Pedro morreu.
Hoje parte alguém que era maior do que a própria vida. É sempre surreal para mim quando uma celebridade morre, sobretudo quando esta pertencia a uma das minhas bandas preferidas, os Xutos & Pontapés. Apesar de nunca o ter conhecido pessoalmente, sentia que efectivamente o conhecia, in a strange strange way. Sempre quis ver os Xutos e hoje sinto-me grato por ter tido a oportunidade de ter assistido a vários concertos, onde a qualidade imperava e o retorno estava sempre prometido. Passei de apenas conhecer as músicas mais famosas a ter presente a discografia e perceber então a genialidade dos Xutos & Pontapés (obrigado por isso). As fortes linhas de baixo do Tim, os solos do João Cabeleira, o ritmo sublime, embora subtil, mas enfatizado pela personalidade vital do Zé Pedro. Percebi que os Xutos não eram apenas mais um banda de rock portuguesa, mas sim umas das maiores bandas de rock portuguesas de sempre. E rapidamente tornaram-se numa grande influência em mim, como músico, mas sobretudo como pessoa. Mostraram que podemos ter um sonho e viver dele, com trabalho árduo, sem desistir, afinal de contas o Zé Pedro queria ter uma banda punk em 1978, tudo começou com um anúncio de jornal. Passado 37 anos, a maioria dos portugueses conhecem os Xutos, gostem ou não conhecem. É engraçado sem ter qualquer tipo de piada como a música une as pessoas e se Portugal tem a mentalidade de "importar", ou seja, o que é estrangeiro é que é bom, os Xutos foram uma das maiores lutas contra essa mentalidade e mostraram que o rock nacional também é bom.
Obrigado por tudo, tenho pena de não ter ido ver aquele que seria o ultimo concerto dos Xutos & Pontapés com a formação completa. Adiei e agora é tarde, já não os posso ver mais. Não daquela forma que vi tantas vezes outrora. Makes me wonder, tudo é temporário, vamos todos morrer, então porque andamos sempre a adiar? Coisas para fazer, frases por dizer, numa bola de preguiça. A honestidade tem de imperar, coisas para dizer têm de ser ditas, coisas para fazer, têm de ser feitas, o que nos impede? Vamos todos morrer. Vamos. Todos. Morrer. E nada, nem ninguém vai alterar isso.
Obrigado Zé Pedro.
Obrigado por tudo, tenho pena de não ter ido ver aquele que seria o ultimo concerto dos Xutos & Pontapés com a formação completa. Adiei e agora é tarde, já não os posso ver mais. Não daquela forma que vi tantas vezes outrora. Makes me wonder, tudo é temporário, vamos todos morrer, então porque andamos sempre a adiar? Coisas para fazer, frases por dizer, numa bola de preguiça. A honestidade tem de imperar, coisas para dizer têm de ser ditas, coisas para fazer, têm de ser feitas, o que nos impede? Vamos todos morrer. Vamos. Todos. Morrer. E nada, nem ninguém vai alterar isso.
Obrigado Zé Pedro.
quinta-feira, novembro 23
sexta-feira, outubro 13
A lonely road, crossed another cold state line
Miles away from those I love purpose undefined
While I recall all the words you spoke to me
Can't help but wish that I was there
And where I'd love to be, oh yeah
Dear God the only thing I ask of you is
To hold her when I'm not around
When I'm much too far away
We all need that person who can be true to you
But I left her when I found her
And now I wish I'd stayed
'Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired
I'm missing you again oh no
Once again
There's nothing here for me on this barren road
There's no one here while the city sleeps
And all the shops are closed
Can't help but think of the times I've had with you
Pictures and some memories will have to help me through, oh yeah
Dear God the only thing I ask of you is to hold her when I'm not around
When I'm much too far away
We all need that person who can be true to you
I left her when I found her
And now I wish I'd stayed
'Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired
I'm missing you again oh no
Once again
Some search, never finding a way
Before long, they waste away
I found you, something told me to stay
I gave in, to selfish ways
And how I miss someone to hold
When hope begins to fade
A lonely road, crossed another cold state line
Miles away from those I love purpose undefined
Dear God the only thing I ask of you is to hold her when I'm not around
When I'm much too far away
We all need the person who can be true to you
I left her when I found her
And now I wish I'd stayed
'Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired
I'm missing you again oh no
Once again
quinta-feira, outubro 12
Onde Estás?
Às vezes estás tão perto, mas estás tão longe
Onde é que estás quando estás ao pé de mim?
Do Tibete pareces um monge
A tua distância não tem fim
Eu questiono tudo
Ao meu lado cá estás
Para ti pareço um mudo
Não quero voltar atrás
Se nada faço nada consigo
Preciso de te entender
Eu vou ganhar juízo
És um mistério por resolver
Tentei escrever-te uma carta
Mas a tinta acabou
Então tentei a mensagem
Mas a rede não deixou
Preciso que saibas que és a tal
Tu não consegues ouvir
Para mim és ideal
E eu não te sei mentir
Meras palavras não conseguem exprimir
Tudo aquilo que eu sinto por ti
Eu vou-te deixar a sorrir
Porque as ações falam por si
Contigo aprendi que amar
É descobrir-me em ti
E se procurares
Vais-te descobrir em mim
Onde é que estás?
Estás dentro do meu coração
E eu? Lembra-te de mim quando ouvires esta canção
Onde é que estás?
Estás dentro do meu coração
Quero sentir a tua paixão
terça-feira, outubro 10
Dependente de ti
Eu sempre soube aquilo que sentia por ti, nunca existiram dúvidas, mas com o teu afastamento rapidamente me apercebi que fazes-me mesmo muita falta. Sem ti por perto sou um desastre, não sei o que fazer, o que pensar, onde estar. Não saber de ti é ter uma parte de mim a desaparecer, uma parte que dói, porque eu preciso de ti! Preciso que voltes rapidamente, que fales comigo, que partilhes comigo, que não me excluas da tua vida, sim? As ultímas 72 horas têm sido desgastantes, não consigo conter este choro dentro de mim, esta dor forte no meu coração. Eu amo-te, sabes? É dificil ficar tanto ser saber de ti, estou sem ar, estou a afogar-me, estou a chorar. Preciso de voltar à superfície.
Amo-te tanto, mas tanto! Aprendi que na vida todos vamos sofrer por pessoas, temos é de percebes quais pessoas valem a pena sofrer. E sei que é dificil, muito dificil, but we'll make it! I know we will, temos é de ser fortes e eu por ti sou forte, podes ser forte por mim?
Amo-te tanto, mas tanto! Aprendi que na vida todos vamos sofrer por pessoas, temos é de percebes quais pessoas valem a pena sofrer. E sei que é dificil, muito dificil, but we'll make it! I know we will, temos é de ser fortes e eu por ti sou forte, podes ser forte por mim?
Para sempre teu.
segunda-feira, outubro 9
May you never be broken again
The fragile cannot endure
The wrecked and the jaded a place so impure
The static of this cruel world
Cause some birds to fly long before they've seen their day
Long before they've seen their day
Let the wind carry you home
Blackbird fly away
May you never be broken again
Beyond the suffering you've known
I hope you find your way
May you never be broken again
The wrecked and the jaded a place so impure
The static of this cruel world
Cause some birds to fly long before they've seen their day
Long before they've seen their day
Let the wind carry you home
Blackbird fly away
May you never be broken again
Beyond the suffering you've known
I hope you find your way
May you never be broken again
sexta-feira, outubro 6
terça-feira, setembro 12
eventual(mente)
Às escuras.
A luz lunar entra pela janela.
Sentado à mesa de madeira de mogno envernizada, com um copo de vidro na mão esquerda com a mesma em forma de meia-lua, a palma virada para o céu. O copo meio cheio de vinho. Ou será meio vazio?
Na mesa encontra-se um cinzeiro preto, um coleccionador de cinzas com um cigarro meio fumado enfiado numa das suas quatro ranhuras, o fumo sobe e a cinza, oposta a ele, desce.
A porta abre, um vulto entra e senta-se na cadeira à frente.
- O que se passa?
- Nada de mais.
- Sabes, não precisas de dar essas respostas pré-formatadas. Podes pensar naquilo que sentes e responder-me.
- Epá, não sei, ando confuso...
- Confuso com o quê?
- Com a vida? A vida que eu achava tão bonita, tão bela. Agora procuro em todos os cantos, em todos os fardos, em todos os fados, razões para a achar bela.
- O que mudou, meu?
- Well, tudo?
- Tudo é muito..
- Tudo é tudo.
- Se tudo mudou, tu também mudaste? Sabes, a nossa mudança é aquela que mais custa a assimilar porque como mudamos e lidamos connosco todos os dias, nem damos conta, mas nós mudamos.
- E eu mudei. Já não sou a pessoa que era, não sou a pessoa que quero ser.
- Então quem és?
- Neste momento sou um cadáver ambulante.
- Tens sempre a música.
- A música? Se eu não tiver a música, que razões tenho eu para viver?
- De certeza que há imensas razões aí para viver.
- Mas viver não significa só estar vivo e estar vivo é para viver por algum propósito, algum objetivo, algo.
leia-se coma
See you've caught me in a coma
And I don't think I want to
Ever come back to this
World again
Kinda like it in a coma
'Cause no one's ever gonna
Oh make me come back to this
World again
Now I feel as if I'm floating away
I can't feel the pressure
And I like it this way
But my body's calling, my body's calling
Want me to come back to this
World again
Suspended deep in a sea of black
I got the light at the end
I got the bones on the mast
Well, I've gone sailing, I've gone sailing
I could leave so easily
My friends are calling back to me
I said yeah,
They're leaving it all up to me when
All I needed was clarity
And someone to tell me what the fuck is going on
Goddammit
Slippin' farther and farther away
It's a miracle how long we can stay
In a world our minds created
In a world that's full of shit
Please understand me
I'm climbin' through the wreckage
Of all my twisted dreams
And this cheap investigation
Just can't stifle all my screams
And I'm waiting
At the crossroads
Waiting for you
Waiting for you
Where are you
No one's gonna bother me anymore
No one's gonna mess with my head no more
I can't understand what all the fightin's for
But it's so nice here down off the shore
I wish you could see this
Cause there's nothing to see
It's peaceful here and its fine with me
Not like the world where I used to live
I never really wanted to live...
Zap him again...
Zap the son of a bitch again
Live your life like it's a coma
Won't you tell me why we'd want to
With all the reasons you give
It's kinda hard to believe
But who am I to tell you that I've seen any reason
Why you should stay
Maybe we'd be better off without you anyway
I got a one way ticket on your last chance ride
Got a one way ticket to your suicide
Got a one way ticket and there's no way out alive
And all this crass communication that has left you in the cold
Isn't much for consolation when you feel so weak and old
But if home is where the heart is
Then there's stories to be told
No, you don't need a doctor
No one else can heal your soul
Got your mind in submission
Got your life on the line
But nobody pulled the trigger
They just stepped aside
They'll be down by the water
While you watch 'em wavin' goodbye
They'll be callin' in the morning
They'll be hanging on the phone
They'll be waitin' for an answer
But you know nobody's home
And when the bells stop ringing
It was nobody's fault but your own
There were always ample warning
There were always subtle signs
And you would have seen them coming
But we gave you too much time
And when you said that no one's listening
Why'd your best friend drop a dime
Sometimes we get so tired of waiting for a
Way to spend our time
And it's so easy to be social
It's so easy to be cool
Yeah, its easy to get hungry
When you ain't got shit to lose
And I wish that I could help you
With what you hope to find
But I'm still out here waiting
Watching reruns of my life
When you reach the point of breaking
Know it's gonna take some time
To heal those broken memories
That another man would need
Just to survive
terça-feira, agosto 22
sexta-feira, agosto 18
amelorp
Um problema só é problema por causa da nossa atitude face ao mesmo e à quantidade de atenção que lhe damos.
Post Scriptum: Hoje estou demasiado disléxico, para já e à falta de melhor argumento, culparei o café.
parte externa do órgão genital feminino
O tempo passa, a experiência aumenta, mas cada vez mais parece que cada vez percebo menos as pessoas. Seriously, as suas atitudes, os seus comportamentos, ou é de mim, ou as pessoas à minha volta andam a ficar mesmo conas, o cliché de virgens ofendidas que ficam chateadas com "tudo" o que one faz. Levam a peito e agarram como se tratasse de um problema realmente grave, say, o que me deixa realmente espantado. Geração reles e cada vez mais reles que não luta por nada a não ser o futebol, que aceita tudo o que lhes façam, e reclamam! Ai se não reclamam! Mas para si e só para si ou quando não têm a pessoa à frente.
Foda-se, People are Strange, cintando o late great Jim Morrison
Folks, is this what you've become?
quarta-feira, agosto 9
Sinto-me perdido
Nesta noite escura
Talvez destruido
E a solidão dura
Numa sala de gente
Sentido sozinho
Porque é que as pessoas eventualmente
Saem do meu caminho?
É como se as afastasse
Sem realmente querer
Qualquer pessoa que amasse
Um dia tende a desaparecer
Nesta estrada do tempo
Que um dia tem fim
Desconhecendo o momento
O que será de mim?
Vou gritar até explodir
Talvez ficar sem voz
Um dia alguém há-de me ouvir
De uma forma tão atroz
Talvez seja um até já
Talvez seja um até amanhã
Se não saires de cá
Podes voltar de manhã
Nesta estrada do tempo
Que um dia tem fim
Desconhecendo o momento
O que será de mim?
Nesta noite escura
Talvez destruido
E a solidão dura
Numa sala de gente
Sentido sozinho
Porque é que as pessoas eventualmente
Saem do meu caminho?
É como se as afastasse
Sem realmente querer
Qualquer pessoa que amasse
Um dia tende a desaparecer
Nesta estrada do tempo
Que um dia tem fim
Desconhecendo o momento
O que será de mim?
Vou gritar até explodir
Talvez ficar sem voz
Um dia alguém há-de me ouvir
De uma forma tão atroz
Talvez seja um até já
Talvez seja um até amanhã
Se não saires de cá
Podes voltar de manhã
Nesta estrada do tempo
Que um dia tem fim
Desconhecendo o momento
O que será de mim?
domingo, agosto 6
Fernando Pessoa
"Por isso eu tomo ópio. É um remédio
Sou um convalescente do Momento.
Moro no rés-do-chão do pensamento
E ver passar a Vida faz-me tédio."
Sou um convalescente do Momento.
Moro no rés-do-chão do pensamento
E ver passar a Vida faz-me tédio."
sábado, julho 22
quinta-feira, julho 13
Dear Mr. Orwell
Wrightwood. Cal.
21 October, 1949
Dear Mr. Orwell,
It was very kind of you to tell your publishers to send me a copy of your book. It arrived as I was in the midst of a piece of work that required much reading and consulting of references; and since poor sight makes it necessary for me to ration my reading, I had to wait a long time before being able to embark on Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Agreeing with all that the critics have written of it, I need not tell you, yet once more, how fine and how profoundly important the book is. May I speak instead of the thing with which the book deals — the ultimate revolution? The first hints of a philosophy of the ultimate revolution — the revolution which lies beyond politics and economics, and which aims at total subversion of the individual's psychology and physiology — are to be found in the Marquis de Sade, who regarded himself as the continuator, the consummator, of Robespierre and Babeuf. The philosophy of the ruling minority in Nineteen Eighty-Four is a sadism which has been carried to its logical conclusion by going beyond sex and denying it. Whether in actual fact the policy of the boot-on-the-face can go on indefinitely seems doubtful. My own belief is that the ruling oligarchy will find less arduous and wasteful ways of governing and of satisfying its lust for power, and these ways will resemble those which I described in Brave New World. I have had occasion recently to look into the history of animal magnetism and hypnotism, and have been greatly struck by the way in which, for a hundred and fifty years, the world has refused to take serious cognizance of the discoveries of Mesmer, Braid, Esdaile, and the rest.
Partly because of the prevailing materialism and partly because of prevailing respectability, nineteenth-century philosophers and men of science were not willing to investigate the odder facts of psychology for practical men, such as politicians, soldiers and policemen, to apply in the field of government. Thanks to the voluntary ignorance of our fathers, the advent of the ultimate revolution was delayed for five or six generations. Another lucky accident was Freud's inability to hypnotize successfully and his consequent disparagement of hypnotism. This delayed the general application of hypnotism to psychiatry for at least forty years. But now psycho-analysis is being combined with hypnosis; and hypnosis has been made easy and indefinitely extensible through the use of barbiturates, which induce a hypnoid and suggestible state in even the most recalcitrant subjects.
Within the next generation I believe that the world's rulers will discover that infant conditioning and narco-hypnosis are more efficient, as instruments of government, than clubs and prisons, and that the lust for power can be just as completely satisfied by suggesting people into loving their servitude as by flogging and kicking them into obedience. In other words, I feel that the nightmare of Nineteen Eighty-Four is destined to modulate into the nightmare of a world having more resemblance to that which I imagined in Brave New World. The change will be brought about as a result of a felt need for increased efficiency. Meanwhile, of course, there may be a large scale biological and atomic war — in which case we shall have nightmares of other and scarcely imaginable kinds.
Thank you once again for the book.
Yours sincerely,
Aldous Huxley
21 October, 1949
Dear Mr. Orwell,
It was very kind of you to tell your publishers to send me a copy of your book. It arrived as I was in the midst of a piece of work that required much reading and consulting of references; and since poor sight makes it necessary for me to ration my reading, I had to wait a long time before being able to embark on Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Agreeing with all that the critics have written of it, I need not tell you, yet once more, how fine and how profoundly important the book is. May I speak instead of the thing with which the book deals — the ultimate revolution? The first hints of a philosophy of the ultimate revolution — the revolution which lies beyond politics and economics, and which aims at total subversion of the individual's psychology and physiology — are to be found in the Marquis de Sade, who regarded himself as the continuator, the consummator, of Robespierre and Babeuf. The philosophy of the ruling minority in Nineteen Eighty-Four is a sadism which has been carried to its logical conclusion by going beyond sex and denying it. Whether in actual fact the policy of the boot-on-the-face can go on indefinitely seems doubtful. My own belief is that the ruling oligarchy will find less arduous and wasteful ways of governing and of satisfying its lust for power, and these ways will resemble those which I described in Brave New World. I have had occasion recently to look into the history of animal magnetism and hypnotism, and have been greatly struck by the way in which, for a hundred and fifty years, the world has refused to take serious cognizance of the discoveries of Mesmer, Braid, Esdaile, and the rest.
Partly because of the prevailing materialism and partly because of prevailing respectability, nineteenth-century philosophers and men of science were not willing to investigate the odder facts of psychology for practical men, such as politicians, soldiers and policemen, to apply in the field of government. Thanks to the voluntary ignorance of our fathers, the advent of the ultimate revolution was delayed for five or six generations. Another lucky accident was Freud's inability to hypnotize successfully and his consequent disparagement of hypnotism. This delayed the general application of hypnotism to psychiatry for at least forty years. But now psycho-analysis is being combined with hypnosis; and hypnosis has been made easy and indefinitely extensible through the use of barbiturates, which induce a hypnoid and suggestible state in even the most recalcitrant subjects.
Within the next generation I believe that the world's rulers will discover that infant conditioning and narco-hypnosis are more efficient, as instruments of government, than clubs and prisons, and that the lust for power can be just as completely satisfied by suggesting people into loving their servitude as by flogging and kicking them into obedience. In other words, I feel that the nightmare of Nineteen Eighty-Four is destined to modulate into the nightmare of a world having more resemblance to that which I imagined in Brave New World. The change will be brought about as a result of a felt need for increased efficiency. Meanwhile, of course, there may be a large scale biological and atomic war — in which case we shall have nightmares of other and scarcely imaginable kinds.
Thank you once again for the book.
Yours sincerely,
Aldous Huxley
sábado, junho 24
sexta-feira, junho 9
quarta-feira, junho 7
Copo meio cheio
O que será que o futuro me reserva? Eis uma questão que raramente faço, por achar completamente desnecessário planeá-lo, uma vez que não temos a certeza daquilo que será, então como posso eu tentar controlar um aspeto incontrolável? Não é um pouco, egoísta da minha parte? Talvez, quiçá? Mas hoje, estou aqui a pensar nisso, enquanto oiço a Run dos Foo Fighters, que aproveito para acrescentar que acho fantástica, mesmo que o Dave Grohl abuse um pouco da sua capacidade de gritar sem provocar damage à sua garganta, pelo menos de forma aparente, mas acaba por ligar com aquilo que a música relata, com a sua edginess explosiva. Música essa que oiço, pela quinquagésima vez. É, não sei evitar ser obcecado com músicas, uma das minhas grandes falhas. Ou virtudes, quem sabe, depende do ponto de vista, Copo meio vazio ou meio cheio?
Onde é que eu ia? Ah sim, o futuro, esse misterioso tempo inalcançável que me deixa perplexo, pela sua filosofia, porque é um intervalo de tempo que se inicia após o presente e não tem um fim definido. Nunca terá, for that matter, porque ele nunca chega, é sempre interessante pensar nisto de um ponto de vista filosófico, porque ansiamos aquilo que nunca chega, e quando chega é assim mágico, momentâneo.
Mas a vida dá tantas voltas, há cinco anos atrás via as pessoas de um certo modo, tinha amizades que julgava serem para a vida e não supérfluas, e hoje aqui estou eu a olhar para aquilo que a minha vida era, e para aquilo que hoje é. Estou a repetir muitas vezes a palavra hoje não estou? Eu sei, mas não encontro outra forma de descrever estas vinte e quanto horas que passaram. Ou que passam. Ou que continuam a passar. E vão passar. E sempre passarão até ao fim dos meus dias.
Não vale a pena pensar nisto, porque o que quer que eu pense e/ou sinta, provavelmente o universo vai encarregar-se de arranjar uma maneira peculiar de fazer uma união com um universo paralelo, o que até à altura não fazia sentido, mas passa a fazer porque o universo assim o quer. E se ele assim o quer, quem sou eu para contrariar isso?
Corey Mother Fuckin' Taylor
""There's an unwritten responsibility that comes with this gig. People look to you for inspiration and guidance whether you like it or not.
"And I know a lot of people that don't like that responsibility. I take it very, very seriously.
"So in a lot of ways, I try to lead by example. And yeah, it's uncomfortable to open up like that, but at the same time, if you can't talk about an issue, how are you going to fix it?
"And that’s one of the things that people don't understand. If you just don't say anything, that's not going to fix the problem. You fix a problem by working on it, you know?
"I also know there's a giant stigma that comes with therapy and dealing with issues, with demons. A lot of people don't want to talk about it or look down at it or tend to make fun of other people for having it or engaging in it.
"I'm trying to break that down by showing people that, yes, I go to therapy as well and I'm still trying to work out my demons and the things I went through in my life.
"Will I ever get it all figured out? Probably not. But that's why it's a process.
"So if me bearing my shit and laying it all out helps people start to work on theirs as well, then where's the negative part of that? I can take criticism, I can take all that shit.
"But if I'm leading by example, why not? And if me doing that helps people get help and help themselves in their life and make better decisions and do better things for other people, that spreads like wildfire. I would be a fucking asshole not to try to do that.
"I'd like to think [that it's become easier to discuss mental issues]. But you can also be very myopic and only see your end of the cultural swimming pool whereas the world, the country, is still a big place.
"There's still big pockets even in places here in America where that's still looked down upon because of some stoic bullshit where it's like, 'Oh, you just sit on your problems, you shouldn't talk about it. Just suck it up, grow up.'
"Nah, that doesn't work for me, fuck you. Growing up and sucking it up is not the same thing.
"Growing up means owning your shit and if owning your shit means talking to someone, what's the problem?
"I think it's that tough-guy bullshit that people have bullshitted themselves into, which actually makes you weaker. It makes you more susceptible to negative things in life. Nobody wants to talk about that.
"It's one of the reasons why we have so many soldiers coming back with PTSD who are not getting the help they want because people around them for too long have told them to suck it up or get over it.
"That's not how you fix a problem. You don't fix a problem by getting over it, you fix a problem by talking about it and leaning on people who have been through it before. By talking to people, maybe you can get the answers that will help you with your problems.
"I have talked to so many soldiers who deal with PTSD and are so thankful that there's a network of veterans who have been through it before and have helped them get back on their feet.
"But people don't want to talk about that. I think maybe this is the time to talk about it. And I think maybe the juxtaposition is starting to break down and that conversation is starting to happen in places where maybe that conversation didn’t want to happen.
"But it's a cultural thing as well. It's not just the stigma of getting help but letting go of dogmatic bullshit that has been breaking us down for too fucking long of making the appearance of strength actually seem weak.""
"And I know a lot of people that don't like that responsibility. I take it very, very seriously.
"So in a lot of ways, I try to lead by example. And yeah, it's uncomfortable to open up like that, but at the same time, if you can't talk about an issue, how are you going to fix it?
"And that’s one of the things that people don't understand. If you just don't say anything, that's not going to fix the problem. You fix a problem by working on it, you know?
"I also know there's a giant stigma that comes with therapy and dealing with issues, with demons. A lot of people don't want to talk about it or look down at it or tend to make fun of other people for having it or engaging in it.
"I'm trying to break that down by showing people that, yes, I go to therapy as well and I'm still trying to work out my demons and the things I went through in my life.
"Will I ever get it all figured out? Probably not. But that's why it's a process.
"So if me bearing my shit and laying it all out helps people start to work on theirs as well, then where's the negative part of that? I can take criticism, I can take all that shit.
"But if I'm leading by example, why not? And if me doing that helps people get help and help themselves in their life and make better decisions and do better things for other people, that spreads like wildfire. I would be a fucking asshole not to try to do that.
"I'd like to think [that it's become easier to discuss mental issues]. But you can also be very myopic and only see your end of the cultural swimming pool whereas the world, the country, is still a big place.
"There's still big pockets even in places here in America where that's still looked down upon because of some stoic bullshit where it's like, 'Oh, you just sit on your problems, you shouldn't talk about it. Just suck it up, grow up.'
"Nah, that doesn't work for me, fuck you. Growing up and sucking it up is not the same thing.
"Growing up means owning your shit and if owning your shit means talking to someone, what's the problem?
"I think it's that tough-guy bullshit that people have bullshitted themselves into, which actually makes you weaker. It makes you more susceptible to negative things in life. Nobody wants to talk about that.
"It's one of the reasons why we have so many soldiers coming back with PTSD who are not getting the help they want because people around them for too long have told them to suck it up or get over it.
"That's not how you fix a problem. You don't fix a problem by getting over it, you fix a problem by talking about it and leaning on people who have been through it before. By talking to people, maybe you can get the answers that will help you with your problems.
"I have talked to so many soldiers who deal with PTSD and are so thankful that there's a network of veterans who have been through it before and have helped them get back on their feet.
"But people don't want to talk about that. I think maybe this is the time to talk about it. And I think maybe the juxtaposition is starting to break down and that conversation is starting to happen in places where maybe that conversation didn’t want to happen.
"But it's a cultural thing as well. It's not just the stigma of getting help but letting go of dogmatic bullshit that has been breaking us down for too fucking long of making the appearance of strength actually seem weak.""
domingo, maio 21
like a stone
On a cob web afternoon,
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
Reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good we'll lay to rest,
Anywhere we want to go.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone.
And on my deathbed I will pray to the gods and the angels,
Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
To a place I recall, I was there so long ago.
The sky was bruised, the wine was bled, and there you led me on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
And on I read until the day was gone;
And I sat in regret of all the things I've done;
For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged.
In dreams until my death I will wander on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
Reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good we'll lay to rest,
Anywhere we want to go.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone.
And on my deathbed I will pray to the gods and the angels,
Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
To a place I recall, I was there so long ago.
The sky was bruised, the wine was bled, and there you led me on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
And on I read until the day was gone;
And I sat in regret of all the things I've done;
For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged.
In dreams until my death I will wander on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
sexta-feira, abril 28
quarta-feira, abril 19
A citação que procurava há 7 anos
“Não concordo com o que dizes, mas defendo até a morte o direito de o dizeres”
sábado, abril 15
How I Met Your Mother
Robin: Let's make a pact, if we both turn 40 and we're both single..
Ted: Robin Scherbatsky, will you be my backup wife?
Robin: A girl always dreams of hearing those words. Yes, yes, a million times, yes!
How I Met Your Mother
Season 4
Episode 17
Ted: Robin Scherbatsky, will you be my backup wife?
Robin: A girl always dreams of hearing those words. Yes, yes, a million times, yes!
How I Met Your Mother
Season 4
Episode 17
segunda-feira, abril 3
sexta-feira, março 31
refrão
Dizem que a esperança é a última a morrer
Mas em ti não vive mais um segundo
Talvez numa próxima vida te possa vir a ter
Já que nesta perdi o meu mundo
Mas em ti não vive mais um segundo
Talvez numa próxima vida te possa vir a ter
Já que nesta perdi o meu mundo
segunda-feira, março 27
sleep tight
Quem me dera ir dormir. Arranjar a cama, espancar a almofada ao ponto desta ficar quase-perfeita, encarquilhar o lençol e os cobertores e deito-me nela, puxando os mesmos até só ter a cabeça de fora, encaro o tecto, mando mensagem de boa noite, reviro-me para a esquerda, apago a luz do candeeiro que se encontra em cima da mesa de cabeceira. E agora durmo. Quer dizer, já já não, porque ainda tenho de me revivar mais vinte e setes até adormecer sem dar conta de nada.
E dormiria.
Quando acordava, ainda eras minha. Ainda éramos felizes, ainda acordava com as tuas mensagens de bons dias que me colocavam um sorriso na cara e mesmo com este feitio que possa ter, tinha forças e vontade para ter um bom dia, não me posso queixar, fui feliz.
Mas a água caí da janela e da minha cara, quando encaro as tuas costas, então prefiro dormir, mas não acordarei sendo teu e tu sendo minha.
Se amanhã não acordar, ficarei com todas as memórias de ontem.
sábado, março 25
terça-feira, março 21
Dupla
Não há nada que não me faça pensar em ti. Estás em todo o lado, quer nas músicas que passam na rádio, quer nos carros cujos condutores são uns abéculas com o pé oprimido, penso - se estivesses aqui, já estavas a reclamar com o estúpido que anda a trinta quilómetros por hora. Estás mesmo em todo o lado.
Para onde foste?
segunda-feira, março 20
segunda-feira, março 6
segunda-feira, fevereiro 27
quinta-feira, fevereiro 23
domingo, fevereiro 5
quinta-feira, janeiro 19
Duelo
- Tenho os pés frios.
O anão que vive na cave da minha casa ao ouvir tais palavras proferidas, levanta-se, uma vez que este encontrava-se sentado, corre e traz a manta mais próxima.
O anão que vive na cave da minha casa ao ouvir tais palavras proferidas, levanta-se, uma vez que este encontrava-se sentado, corre e traz a manta mais próxima.
- Obrigado Julião.
- De nada Sr. Artur.
- Estúpido, não me chamo Artur!
- Estúpido és tu.
Ao ouvir tal frase, não me controlo e desafio Julião para um duelo.
- DESAFIO-TE PARA UM DUELO!!!!
- EU SEI, LI ISSO LÁ EM CIMA.
- Amh? Leste?
- Sim!
- Como?
- Então, Artur, eu estou a presenciar o presente enquanto este acontece.
- NÃO ME CHAMO ARTUR!
Então vamos para o exterior, como dois cavalheiros devem lutar, de forma brutalmente civilizada.
Estamos de costas um para o outro, damos seis passos gigantes e a este ponto da luta percebo que é uma situação peculiar e algo injusta. Ou ele dá doze passos ou eu dou três, porque a justiça não está relacionada com igualdade, porque a igualmente nem sempre é justa.
- Julião, o que estamos nós a fazer?
- Vamos duelar!
- Está bem.
Dobro o braço, enquanto o cano da pistola está virado para cima, fazendo as nuvens estremecer de medo.
-1...2...3!
Viramo-nos em simultâneo um para o outro enquanto as balas saem disparadas das pistolas. Falho a cabeça do anão, enquanto este com o sua pontaria acerta-me no coração.
- A vida é efémera. Sinto frio.
Julião corre, traz a manta que me trazia outrora.
- Não quero que lhe falte nada, Sr. Artur.
- NÃO ME CHAMO ARTUR!
E morro.
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