(Inspired by the shopping spree I had today and the beautiful music from "Finding Nemo" by Thomas Newman)
A very short tale about SHOPPING FRENZY
"Ladies and Gentleman, we now call your attention to the following advertisement! The shop is about to open! Please move calmly and orderly towards the corridor you are interested in."
A sound is released by the unlocking mechanisms of the doors that prevent the entry of any outsiders.
As the mechanism relinquishes the lock, a most uncommon riot takes place.
Hundreds of hungry people rush towards the toy, hi-fi, clothes, books, music, video and all the other sections inside the huge empire of sales.
"RED ALERT!!! BATTLE STATIONS MEN!" says the talented Manager, sure of himself? The might captain in the middle of the rumbling storm of customers who eagerly and selfishly demand his attention?
"ME! I was here first" - screams a mad woman, who desperately wonders for any available bra size to give to her mother-in-law, who just turned 80 and got a thong and now needs a matching lingerie element for her ensemble!
"What kind of business are you running here!?" - screams a fat man, who waits for some attention with the rubber doll he is thinking of getting, claiming that is not for him, instead it serves as a prank for a friend at work.
"Be right with you sir! Madam, the number you want is currently sold out at this establishment, however you can give me your contact, and we can make a reservation. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days to get the size your looking for."
"Thank you, that would be great"
"My colleague here, will take the required elements, and will submit your request." - the manager was a true master in his field. Like his dad, he had the instinct to care for anyone's needs. Ever since he was a trainee, his first boss taught him the early basics.
"Son, all you have to do to succeed in this business, is to ensure, costumer satisfaction, by any means possible. Be flexible, assertive, show no fear, or they will skin you alive" - these words became the hallmark on his reputation.
"Is it my turn now!?" - the steamy fat man, yield even at an higher than before, as small clouds of vapour formed around him.
"Sure it is! Would you like to step into the latex area so we can browse through the several models we have in sale. Maybe you can have a wider range of options at your disposal, hence picking out the right rubber doll model to please your friend!"
"Hey! That would be great! You are swell, young man!"
2 happy costumers, different needs, 2 satisfactory responses.
How does one deal with this day after day?
It's like living in a jungle, where the lions are starving everyday and always thriving to catch a prey, who careless wonders through the fields, just waiting to be caught!
Entire herds of people guided by the greedy commercials that come in all sizes and shapes to reach all who submit themselves to it's action. And like a stampede of buffalos they blindly go, towards a certain shop to fulfill their part in the big spree of shopping.
"Today's special, something that you so don't need, but you will take any way, because all you do is what we recommend you to!" - How is that for a commercial? Too real?
In all the madness, one like me, stands in a line after being fair to the system, making his part in the big chain of goods consumption, and thinks about all of them, who walk around him.
People, they are people, with feelings, all of them with needs to be nourished in the most unusual way possible. After all, they all of the distinguished ambitions and desires, so one must be ready to look, listen, think and come up with a resolution to any situation. People's politeness is like fickle food served in a shifting dish. It's governed by patience and surrounding conditions, rarely there is time to take a breather, a time out of any situation, and prevent our more aggressive impulses from taking a part or the whole darn action.
Unfortunately, this starts at the very core of any given home, where the so called patience is replaced by unbelievable selfish arguments, which, in the early days of any relation, would be inconceivable.
Alas, lies the hope the people will grow out of their misery and move towards something more altruistic, than a mere disrespect for a brother, a sister, a father, a mother, or any common strange who stands like us "patiently" in line waiting for the endless minutes until "our" turn comes.
In all the raging madness of shopping, a surely hope for humanity sake, that we grow up towards patience.
Listening: Finding Nemo by Thomas Newman
Reading: Eulogy to Madness by Erasmus of Rotterdam
Seeing: Black Adder's Christmas Carol by Richard Curtis and Ben Elton
Waiting: World Peace, or any kind of peace that takes place in 3 mile radius, of any point in the world from where I am standing, by anyone.
Sunday, November 30, 2003
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Utopian world - phase one
A few days ago, I was talking on the phone with a friend of mine. We were rumbling on about the state of the World, as it happens in so many occasions when our to minds are allowed to exchange ideas.
He had some ideas for what he called a better world, something in the lines of an utopian world. He hinted that I should have some ideas for such a world.
My ideas for any utopia, freeze with the mere sight of one.
I guess, I was always left with the notion is something impossible to realize, a kind of impossible dream that leaves us baffled as we awake, but we soon file it under the category impossible things to happen. Why is that? A poet once said that the dream commands life to being what the dream wants it be.
Utopia is a dream waiting to be, but no one dares to give life to it.
Before any world is created, I believe that certain points must be establish to set its grounds.
As such, my utopian world begins with some general rules that will help me define it.
Rule no 1. The will to do should be granted by any dream.
Any individual should have the chance to do what his or hers heart aspires to do. If someone desires to be a pilot and fly way for endless hours in the skies above, why shouldn’t that person have the chance to do so? Or if a person aspires to write for all his entire existence; or instead to become a professional reader, allowing him to indulge his life to learning, a person could be supplied with such resources that will give him the chance to do so.
Anything goes, as long as it doesn’t hurt others. If people have negative tendencies, they can be placed in a virtual reality kind of world, where they could indulge themselves to any sort of actions their minds allow, for there would be no real persons other than themselves for them to hurt, and all that they would do, would be to come back at them through a series of cause effect algorithms programmed at the core of the Artificial Intelligence which controls them.
In our own world exists a very utopian notion, called the bill of rights. Somewhere in this bill of rights it's stated that all individuals have the right for proper health care.
Rule no 2. In this world, everyone is entitled to have immediate health assistance as soon as it is required. As soon as a person would get sick, instantaneously a group of specialized people would care for the needs of that person. As there would be no limits for the peoples desire to become something as a result of one's dream. Whateve they want to become, will result in many well trained doctors walking around caring for all those who needed care.
Rule no 3. Money would no longer be the imperative ruler of values of mankind. Values as friendship, care, altruism, selfless commitment to all, would be the main goal of everyone’s life.
There would never be a person neglected on a street, if suffering was detected, immediately the person would find care among people who would help one to overcome the sorrows that emerged.
To be continued....
He had some ideas for what he called a better world, something in the lines of an utopian world. He hinted that I should have some ideas for such a world.
My ideas for any utopia, freeze with the mere sight of one.
I guess, I was always left with the notion is something impossible to realize, a kind of impossible dream that leaves us baffled as we awake, but we soon file it under the category impossible things to happen. Why is that? A poet once said that the dream commands life to being what the dream wants it be.
Utopia is a dream waiting to be, but no one dares to give life to it.
Before any world is created, I believe that certain points must be establish to set its grounds.
As such, my utopian world begins with some general rules that will help me define it.
Rule no 1. The will to do should be granted by any dream.
Any individual should have the chance to do what his or hers heart aspires to do. If someone desires to be a pilot and fly way for endless hours in the skies above, why shouldn’t that person have the chance to do so? Or if a person aspires to write for all his entire existence; or instead to become a professional reader, allowing him to indulge his life to learning, a person could be supplied with such resources that will give him the chance to do so.
Anything goes, as long as it doesn’t hurt others. If people have negative tendencies, they can be placed in a virtual reality kind of world, where they could indulge themselves to any sort of actions their minds allow, for there would be no real persons other than themselves for them to hurt, and all that they would do, would be to come back at them through a series of cause effect algorithms programmed at the core of the Artificial Intelligence which controls them.
In our own world exists a very utopian notion, called the bill of rights. Somewhere in this bill of rights it's stated that all individuals have the right for proper health care.
Rule no 2. In this world, everyone is entitled to have immediate health assistance as soon as it is required. As soon as a person would get sick, instantaneously a group of specialized people would care for the needs of that person. As there would be no limits for the peoples desire to become something as a result of one's dream. Whateve they want to become, will result in many well trained doctors walking around caring for all those who needed care.
Rule no 3. Money would no longer be the imperative ruler of values of mankind. Values as friendship, care, altruism, selfless commitment to all, would be the main goal of everyone’s life.
There would never be a person neglected on a street, if suffering was detected, immediately the person would find care among people who would help one to overcome the sorrows that emerged.
To be continued....
Friday, November 21, 2003
Pleasure of writing and the mistakes that come with it.
It's true, I am enjoying so much the pleasure of writing. I feel that it is very liberating, even if I commit so many grammatical and orthographic mistakes.
Forgive me for all those, in this and in any other blog...
I will promise to care for the words, as I create sentences that underline what my soul transpires.
To be continued.... later.... History of S will do for now.
NOTE TO SELF - Use more carefuly the wordspell checker. A read proof is in order...
Forgive me for all those, in this and in any other blog...
I will promise to care for the words, as I create sentences that underline what my soul transpires.
To be continued.... later.... History of S will do for now.
NOTE TO SELF - Use more carefuly the wordspell checker. A read proof is in order...
The History of S
-----------------------------------------
S is an individual like so many others that wonder about this world, desperately, trying to overcome all the irony filled hurdles that life presents to her.
In any society she will be another miniscule part of the whole picture, and will fell like most of us in the cracks of anonymity.
S is originally from Guinea-Bissau, a country that has been dominated by hatred and war, for almost ten years. Like so many fellow countrymen, S choose to leave Guinea with her 4 daughters and settle down in a country that would offer more stability. Anywhere would do, as long as she would not have to worry about leaving her daughters, while she went to work and got home to find one or two dead, who knows maybe all. Nobody knows, what lies ahead!
S has her own attitude towards life. A good friend of ours once referred about her, as she was a sort of uncommon angel, one of those mystical characters that altruistically give all that they can for anyone in need.
In Portugal, she got separated from her first husband, and got married a second time.
In Guinea, inviting all your friends and family to a party, where the couple informs them about the intention of living together from here on end, is considered a marriage ceremony.
A 5th daughter came as a result of that marriage.
Today with 5 daughters, S works hard to support their daughters and give them all that she could not give in her home. Her stamina sees no limit when it comes to be good to someone. Once, a while back, her first husband got a stroke, and became invalid. Although she had her responsibilities with her family and her job, she would always take some time of her day, travelling for over 2 hours to take care of him for 1 hour, a hour and a half, to make a another 2 hour journey home, only then she could care for her 5 children in peace.
Another proof S's altruism comes from a support that she gave to a friend of hers when she got sick. Possessed by her true sense of care she would go there for many hours to take care of her friend, cook for her and her friend's son, before going home and take care of her own family.
About two years ago, a woman came to Portugal as a refugee from Guinea, after her husband was shot in front of her son. The blast of the shot was so powerful that the boy got fragments of the shell in his leg and had to be brought to Portugal. Her own family neglected to care for her and there were many days in the winter where she would find her son out on the street. Fortunately, S was her neighbour and immediately agreed to care for her son and helped her find a job, so that she could support herself and her son. She even made a collect of old clothes to give to the little boy, who walked out on the street in many cold mornings wearing a small jacket, his shorts brought from Guinea and a pair of sandals.
Currently, both the boy and the woman are well, thanks to the first push that came from S and a group of people that shed some hope into this lost woman.
Recently, S found out that one of her daughters suffers from epilepsy, with a very worrying condition. The doctors in Portugal show little promise for any effective treatment, so S believes that in her home country, a medicine man may have the knowledge to cure her sick daughter.
Because plane trips are so expensive and the money the S earns in month has to be enough to support 5 people in a house, with all the different expenses that each one was. She asked her boss to work in a double shift, so that she could earn enough money to take her sick daughter back to Guinea, in the hope of finding the promised treatment. Some of the money she now earns is also spent in food that is sent in a large container for her poor family back home.
Today S had a busy day. Some events that I learned about this day, lead me to write this blog to you.
S got a call from her oldest daughter. Apparently, she and 2 younger sisters were caught travelling in the subway using someone else's pass.
They were detained by the person who overseas the tickets and the passes. As they told their story, the supervisors felt sorry for them, and allow them to call to S.
This is the situation was I perceived it.
S's second oldest daughter is 8 month pregnant and was coming from the doctor, after doing a routine check. S is now 38 years old, and is soon to become a grandma, having 6 kids to care in 2004.
S had given money to their daughters for them to buy tickets to go to the doctor. However in their own naïve way they choose to carry someone else pass in order to save a few quarters.
By being caught, they could have been taken to the Immigration Services to check if their status was legal, which is not and risked being deported, for felony and prevented from coming back for a considerable amount of time.
God, however, cares for their angels, and transpires inspiration to solve problems.
The supervisor felt sorry for the 3 girls, particularly for the one who was pregnant and brought them back to S at work, where she had work to do. No complaint was charged, no fine had to be paid, no problems were raised at the Immigration services.
Despite all the hard aches in S's life, she goes own overcoming all the barriers with the humility that she always transpired. In 2004 she will go to Guinea after many years without seeing her family, to help her sick daughter and to introduce her 4-year-old daughter to the grandmother, who she never saw before.
Life can be beautiful with little chapters of good and bad.
Listening: Jan Garbarek - Path, Prints
Reading: Physics by Colleta (Particularly the chapter about Sound and Waves)
Seeing: An old episode of Star Trek - that was about 2 pm (12 hours ago)
Enjoying: Life and Writing.
S is an individual like so many others that wonder about this world, desperately, trying to overcome all the irony filled hurdles that life presents to her.
In any society she will be another miniscule part of the whole picture, and will fell like most of us in the cracks of anonymity.
S is originally from Guinea-Bissau, a country that has been dominated by hatred and war, for almost ten years. Like so many fellow countrymen, S choose to leave Guinea with her 4 daughters and settle down in a country that would offer more stability. Anywhere would do, as long as she would not have to worry about leaving her daughters, while she went to work and got home to find one or two dead, who knows maybe all. Nobody knows, what lies ahead!
S has her own attitude towards life. A good friend of ours once referred about her, as she was a sort of uncommon angel, one of those mystical characters that altruistically give all that they can for anyone in need.
In Portugal, she got separated from her first husband, and got married a second time.
In Guinea, inviting all your friends and family to a party, where the couple informs them about the intention of living together from here on end, is considered a marriage ceremony.
A 5th daughter came as a result of that marriage.
Today with 5 daughters, S works hard to support their daughters and give them all that she could not give in her home. Her stamina sees no limit when it comes to be good to someone. Once, a while back, her first husband got a stroke, and became invalid. Although she had her responsibilities with her family and her job, she would always take some time of her day, travelling for over 2 hours to take care of him for 1 hour, a hour and a half, to make a another 2 hour journey home, only then she could care for her 5 children in peace.
Another proof S's altruism comes from a support that she gave to a friend of hers when she got sick. Possessed by her true sense of care she would go there for many hours to take care of her friend, cook for her and her friend's son, before going home and take care of her own family.
About two years ago, a woman came to Portugal as a refugee from Guinea, after her husband was shot in front of her son. The blast of the shot was so powerful that the boy got fragments of the shell in his leg and had to be brought to Portugal. Her own family neglected to care for her and there were many days in the winter where she would find her son out on the street. Fortunately, S was her neighbour and immediately agreed to care for her son and helped her find a job, so that she could support herself and her son. She even made a collect of old clothes to give to the little boy, who walked out on the street in many cold mornings wearing a small jacket, his shorts brought from Guinea and a pair of sandals.
Currently, both the boy and the woman are well, thanks to the first push that came from S and a group of people that shed some hope into this lost woman.
Recently, S found out that one of her daughters suffers from epilepsy, with a very worrying condition. The doctors in Portugal show little promise for any effective treatment, so S believes that in her home country, a medicine man may have the knowledge to cure her sick daughter.
Because plane trips are so expensive and the money the S earns in month has to be enough to support 5 people in a house, with all the different expenses that each one was. She asked her boss to work in a double shift, so that she could earn enough money to take her sick daughter back to Guinea, in the hope of finding the promised treatment. Some of the money she now earns is also spent in food that is sent in a large container for her poor family back home.
Today S had a busy day. Some events that I learned about this day, lead me to write this blog to you.
S got a call from her oldest daughter. Apparently, she and 2 younger sisters were caught travelling in the subway using someone else's pass.
They were detained by the person who overseas the tickets and the passes. As they told their story, the supervisors felt sorry for them, and allow them to call to S.
This is the situation was I perceived it.
S's second oldest daughter is 8 month pregnant and was coming from the doctor, after doing a routine check. S is now 38 years old, and is soon to become a grandma, having 6 kids to care in 2004.
S had given money to their daughters for them to buy tickets to go to the doctor. However in their own naïve way they choose to carry someone else pass in order to save a few quarters.
By being caught, they could have been taken to the Immigration Services to check if their status was legal, which is not and risked being deported, for felony and prevented from coming back for a considerable amount of time.
God, however, cares for their angels, and transpires inspiration to solve problems.
The supervisor felt sorry for the 3 girls, particularly for the one who was pregnant and brought them back to S at work, where she had work to do. No complaint was charged, no fine had to be paid, no problems were raised at the Immigration services.
Despite all the hard aches in S's life, she goes own overcoming all the barriers with the humility that she always transpired. In 2004 she will go to Guinea after many years without seeing her family, to help her sick daughter and to introduce her 4-year-old daughter to the grandmother, who she never saw before.
Life can be beautiful with little chapters of good and bad.
Listening: Jan Garbarek - Path, Prints
Reading: Physics by Colleta (Particularly the chapter about Sound and Waves)
Seeing: An old episode of Star Trek - that was about 2 pm (12 hours ago)
Enjoying: Life and Writing.
Monday, November 17, 2003
Free time for madness to take over, an attempt to understand the question marks of the past
(cri.... cri...) the sound of an unconfortable silence about to be broken....
Driven by the madness of the past few hours, I am here, am I not!?
Remembering a good friend's column, aka www.memory_hole.blogspot.com, I went to bed at a most unusual hour, the ever so common 21.30. After my needed time of rest, at 3.30 am, my body was impeld out of bed towards the computer, just because it had nothing better to do.
The memories of Sherlock Holmes, lay silent on the ground as I dwell with the courage to go to the second half of a Study in Red.
OH How I wish I could become a writer? I find it so hard to cultivate good reading habits, so necessary to increase my vocabulary and help expand my grammatical skills. I am truly convinced that by reading I would indulge myself to a higher cognitive level.
How does one set up a perfect mood for that, particularly in this century, where I can run to so many different hobbies with the mere gesture of pressing a single button. TV, Internet, Music, Radio, anything at the will of my finger tips, or quite simply, just laying about like a big lug.
Truthfully, I escape towards the internet more often than I probably should. Most of the times, with the hope of finding some meaning to all this.
Ups, my mind escapes, must catch it while I can.
Warning: Severe demeanor loss.
Meanwhile frenetic creatures rise from their sanctuaries and drive or are driven towards a Morlock' processing station where they spend 8 hours of life behind some confined space, and afterwards they are catapulted back to their sanctuaries, without any worries except for the fact that today's hunger of a vampire society has been satisfied. Still, there is nothing to be sorry about, after all tomorrow they get to do it all over again. The good thing about all this, is we as so called creatures of reason, don't give a damn. OH yes, we talk about how uncomfortable we are in our jobs and in our place in the world... These words, however, are spoken with as much conviction as that of a junior sized flame trying desperately to survive in the South Pole, with the iron will of turning all the icy blocks into vapor. A kinky remark for all those like myself who appreciate a nice sauna... But all this is totally besides the point, mainly because I don't think I have a point, although it's been said that I had one. I remember, in one given occasion, being able to point one or two spots that were cruising naked by the atmosphere.
How pointless is this remark?
I would like to write, indeed. What should I write about?
I don't have the slightest idea!
I usually like to rumble on about how beautiful and nice people are. I write lots of emails, most of them never see any answer in return... I guess that most of those who receive them are too busy being drained by their options in life - such as The Morlockian Vampire Lost Empire of Today. That is why I created this blog, a brave attempt to be read by myself, also to reach out to my dead cat, who usually would fall asleep anytime I decided to communicate with him in his own terms.
Meowing was never my favorite language among the felines, or any other kind of species by that matter...
The experience of death never seemed quite as appealing as right about now... No gun is in sight, no pills. Oh damn. All the will to inflict auto-destruction is gone now. Maybe some other time, when some lunatic ragging behavior strikes me down, once again.
I take a little time now to recall memories. Ah sweet memories.
Memory lane one.
A snow fall in Windsor Canada.
Woods in Windsor.
Walking in some suburban woods, while snowflakes gently adventure themselves, propelled by gravity's influence, leading them in a collision course towards whatever they my find. In that day, I was one of their final destination points.
I am not alone, in this walking venture among the trees, I recall a friend who is with me. A very dear friend with a very sweet smile.
The memory stops, sorrow takes over now.
The Snow is Beautiful!
Oh, you poor minds that dared coming here to this blog and read all these lost sentences, lost of purpose to you and with so much meaning to me.
Ah Sweet MADNESS, that helped Hamlet killed his mom; King George to Lose America, now helps me stay alive in an insane world. Well, nothing quite makes sense, if you see it with reason.
WHY DO WE IGNORE FRIENDS WHILE TREATING THEM AS FOES?
Why do we have foes in the first place?
What's the purpose of having enemy's at all? Destruction is such a waste.
Why do we have to be afraid of all the other people that are running lose!?
Example of new born madness
Set of this action - any place you like on Earth
Characters - People we meet,
Tag line - Opinions created
Too fat, too short, too skinny, ugly clothes, bad breath, too cocky, too something else different from all that I want it to be. So I will grant it with some sort of prejudice that I don't know how to explain it, but I am conviced that I should explain it... So I am now convinced that an opinion based by the bias nature of appearance is nothing less than the truth.
Oh, why deceive myself, I do this all the time, and I am submitted to the same scrutiny by any individual that walks by me with a fictious smile, in mad period of his or her life.
Friends..... That is a whole different story... We create a buffer of tolerance for them, and we let it fill or empty as it suits our wits.... So patience controls our relations, and we define a particular time for all..... We even have an auxiliary buffer for this buffer of tolerance, helping us to walk about, smiling at every one, while we have the secret craving for a fully loaded bazooka that could act as a mini-gun and help us destroy these once called friendly creatures into little butterflies of dust.
BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLIES....
Then reality knocks and we realize that we love them all, and we are so happy that there is no such thing as a fast shooting heavy fast-reload type bazooka and we can go up to our friends and enjoy with them the glories of past, present and future....
My god, I must be totally mad....It must be because it's morning, and I am typing while I shake with cold... and Portugal is supposed to be one of the warmest Countries in EUROPE! AH!
Give me storms any day.
Free time to be Mad... To do nothing... To study about the prospects of a near future... To make an insurance for life with all the ludic behavior that I have left in my eschizofrenic bones.
SO MANY FRIENDS.......
LONELINESS CALLS FOR ME
ALL OF YOU ARE BUSY, with your occupations and your time "well" spent among the Morlock Emporium. Feast your lives on the waste of a lifetime achievement award that never comes.
Solution for this pessimistic painting of today, I have none. Except perhaps, oblivion... These, my words of despair, are nothing more than a figment of a fragile imagination, lost in so many trivial ambitions that have gone wrong. Hint: the walk in the snow with a beautiful human that choose to let me fall in the cracks of my own built misery.
IN IRONY SAKE... I have no true misery to show for... I live, I eat, I have fun... I am having fun right now.......can you picture it!!!
FOOL FOOL!
I just let it out, that is it, I like to let all these emotions explode, and create a public blog that few will even care to read. OH MADNESS OF HONESTY!
See this as a hobby, a way to do therapy with my own words. My last consultant doesn't reply back, may be because I ate his liver with some mashed potatoes.. Nah, I guess he is just too busy in helping others...Memo to all, he was very good to me! I just miss talking to him...
The hard thing about having a bonafide conversation is honesty, after all you can pass by a crazy madman, if you decided to tell the truth. Truth should therefore be selective, instead of being mentioned all the time, for conscious purposes.. No conscience today can expain these.
One should have private worlds to indulge oneself into honesty... Where can I find... to thyself be true?
Dialogues..
I was never quite good at writing dialogues.
Once, many years ago, I co-wrote a play for school, whose dialogues were... Well, let me just say that no words seem to be fitting in describing them. Although, we managed to be placed 3rd according to a jury bribed by us, that had to evaluate us among 3 plays in total... nah I am kidding they were about 20, all together. However, it was lots of fun doing it, even if my guts were always being tested for inner strength, just before the curtain opened and I had to make my grand opening speech (3 or 4 lines long...).
Writer's block... humbagh!
Free time madness... Rubbish!
Heart break!? How long does it take to swallow that and go to hell? Quite a lot, but that is not the problem today.
Today's recurrent pessimism brings me to a lack of emotional purpose. A feed of fears and loathing for all that is and all that was related with me life..
Knowing, in my heart, that all is much better than it seems, and that life is as it is because the way things are, is the way things are.
Memory lane my foot...
We decide which memories we put in the box.
The question marks in the past are placed by us along the way, as land marks of situations and events that we don't quite understand. Closures (thank you Adam for the term lesson) that never took place.
Sure its fine to blame it one somebody else, or to assume a downfall attitude towards life, as the little unlucky man has to walk among the plains of sorrow. (Just because he wants too!)
Everything as a purpose, even when we feel a stab aching pain, after being stabbed, even that has a purpose. Obviously, our body is resenting the fact that it was just pierced by a foot long chainsaw, and unexplainly calls for some little assistance, a band-aid should do it!
Powered by the instantaneous motivation of a survival instinct we help ourselves to carry on.
A vision of a talk after a close encounter with a cutting instrument:
"OH DARN! I just been stabbed by life"
"Don't hurry, your life urges you to go on"
"Why?"
"Because it feels like it"
"But it hurts like hell!"
"No it doesn't it"
"How do you know?
"Wait and see!!!" - The little devil grins as he disappears from my vision.
OH wonder! Oh joy! These words are all that remain from a decision to write, in my free time!
Should I keep them to myself, before submitting them to a world blog!
Ah what the well! I don't keep skeletons in my closet, they are all here with me, dancing, since the Halloween of 1978, when Mr. Michael Myers helped released them with a small axe.
Word of advice!?
Just enjoy the thrilling life... It shifts direction unexpectaly
Nothing should be taken for granted, but when something does come, enjoy it to the fullest! Absorb it, take it as one... BE THE EXPERIENCE... Excel for all that is sacred in this life... to be happy is sacred priority number one!
Listening: Silence
Reading: Memories of Sherlock HOLMES !!! AHAHAHAH I SHOULD!
Seeing: DEAD PEOPLE ALL THE TIME! Humm! I must stop working at the coroners lab!!!
Driven by the madness of the past few hours, I am here, am I not!?
Remembering a good friend's column, aka www.memory_hole.blogspot.com, I went to bed at a most unusual hour, the ever so common 21.30. After my needed time of rest, at 3.30 am, my body was impeld out of bed towards the computer, just because it had nothing better to do.
The memories of Sherlock Holmes, lay silent on the ground as I dwell with the courage to go to the second half of a Study in Red.
OH How I wish I could become a writer? I find it so hard to cultivate good reading habits, so necessary to increase my vocabulary and help expand my grammatical skills. I am truly convinced that by reading I would indulge myself to a higher cognitive level.
How does one set up a perfect mood for that, particularly in this century, where I can run to so many different hobbies with the mere gesture of pressing a single button. TV, Internet, Music, Radio, anything at the will of my finger tips, or quite simply, just laying about like a big lug.
Truthfully, I escape towards the internet more often than I probably should. Most of the times, with the hope of finding some meaning to all this.
Ups, my mind escapes, must catch it while I can.
Warning: Severe demeanor loss.
Meanwhile frenetic creatures rise from their sanctuaries and drive or are driven towards a Morlock' processing station where they spend 8 hours of life behind some confined space, and afterwards they are catapulted back to their sanctuaries, without any worries except for the fact that today's hunger of a vampire society has been satisfied. Still, there is nothing to be sorry about, after all tomorrow they get to do it all over again. The good thing about all this, is we as so called creatures of reason, don't give a damn. OH yes, we talk about how uncomfortable we are in our jobs and in our place in the world... These words, however, are spoken with as much conviction as that of a junior sized flame trying desperately to survive in the South Pole, with the iron will of turning all the icy blocks into vapor. A kinky remark for all those like myself who appreciate a nice sauna... But all this is totally besides the point, mainly because I don't think I have a point, although it's been said that I had one. I remember, in one given occasion, being able to point one or two spots that were cruising naked by the atmosphere.
How pointless is this remark?
I would like to write, indeed. What should I write about?
I don't have the slightest idea!
I usually like to rumble on about how beautiful and nice people are. I write lots of emails, most of them never see any answer in return... I guess that most of those who receive them are too busy being drained by their options in life - such as The Morlockian Vampire Lost Empire of Today. That is why I created this blog, a brave attempt to be read by myself, also to reach out to my dead cat, who usually would fall asleep anytime I decided to communicate with him in his own terms.
Meowing was never my favorite language among the felines, or any other kind of species by that matter...
The experience of death never seemed quite as appealing as right about now... No gun is in sight, no pills. Oh damn. All the will to inflict auto-destruction is gone now. Maybe some other time, when some lunatic ragging behavior strikes me down, once again.
I take a little time now to recall memories. Ah sweet memories.
Memory lane one.
A snow fall in Windsor Canada.
Woods in Windsor.
Walking in some suburban woods, while snowflakes gently adventure themselves, propelled by gravity's influence, leading them in a collision course towards whatever they my find. In that day, I was one of their final destination points.
I am not alone, in this walking venture among the trees, I recall a friend who is with me. A very dear friend with a very sweet smile.
The memory stops, sorrow takes over now.
The Snow is Beautiful!
Oh, you poor minds that dared coming here to this blog and read all these lost sentences, lost of purpose to you and with so much meaning to me.
Ah Sweet MADNESS, that helped Hamlet killed his mom; King George to Lose America, now helps me stay alive in an insane world. Well, nothing quite makes sense, if you see it with reason.
WHY DO WE IGNORE FRIENDS WHILE TREATING THEM AS FOES?
Why do we have foes in the first place?
What's the purpose of having enemy's at all? Destruction is such a waste.
Why do we have to be afraid of all the other people that are running lose!?
Example of new born madness
Set of this action - any place you like on Earth
Characters - People we meet,
Tag line - Opinions created
Too fat, too short, too skinny, ugly clothes, bad breath, too cocky, too something else different from all that I want it to be. So I will grant it with some sort of prejudice that I don't know how to explain it, but I am conviced that I should explain it... So I am now convinced that an opinion based by the bias nature of appearance is nothing less than the truth.
Oh, why deceive myself, I do this all the time, and I am submitted to the same scrutiny by any individual that walks by me with a fictious smile, in mad period of his or her life.
Friends..... That is a whole different story... We create a buffer of tolerance for them, and we let it fill or empty as it suits our wits.... So patience controls our relations, and we define a particular time for all..... We even have an auxiliary buffer for this buffer of tolerance, helping us to walk about, smiling at every one, while we have the secret craving for a fully loaded bazooka that could act as a mini-gun and help us destroy these once called friendly creatures into little butterflies of dust.
BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLIES....
Then reality knocks and we realize that we love them all, and we are so happy that there is no such thing as a fast shooting heavy fast-reload type bazooka and we can go up to our friends and enjoy with them the glories of past, present and future....
My god, I must be totally mad....It must be because it's morning, and I am typing while I shake with cold... and Portugal is supposed to be one of the warmest Countries in EUROPE! AH!
Give me storms any day.
Free time to be Mad... To do nothing... To study about the prospects of a near future... To make an insurance for life with all the ludic behavior that I have left in my eschizofrenic bones.
SO MANY FRIENDS.......
LONELINESS CALLS FOR ME
ALL OF YOU ARE BUSY, with your occupations and your time "well" spent among the Morlock Emporium. Feast your lives on the waste of a lifetime achievement award that never comes.
Solution for this pessimistic painting of today, I have none. Except perhaps, oblivion... These, my words of despair, are nothing more than a figment of a fragile imagination, lost in so many trivial ambitions that have gone wrong. Hint: the walk in the snow with a beautiful human that choose to let me fall in the cracks of my own built misery.
IN IRONY SAKE... I have no true misery to show for... I live, I eat, I have fun... I am having fun right now.......can you picture it!!!
FOOL FOOL!
I just let it out, that is it, I like to let all these emotions explode, and create a public blog that few will even care to read. OH MADNESS OF HONESTY!
See this as a hobby, a way to do therapy with my own words. My last consultant doesn't reply back, may be because I ate his liver with some mashed potatoes.. Nah, I guess he is just too busy in helping others...Memo to all, he was very good to me! I just miss talking to him...
The hard thing about having a bonafide conversation is honesty, after all you can pass by a crazy madman, if you decided to tell the truth. Truth should therefore be selective, instead of being mentioned all the time, for conscious purposes.. No conscience today can expain these.
One should have private worlds to indulge oneself into honesty... Where can I find... to thyself be true?
Dialogues..
I was never quite good at writing dialogues.
Once, many years ago, I co-wrote a play for school, whose dialogues were... Well, let me just say that no words seem to be fitting in describing them. Although, we managed to be placed 3rd according to a jury bribed by us, that had to evaluate us among 3 plays in total... nah I am kidding they were about 20, all together. However, it was lots of fun doing it, even if my guts were always being tested for inner strength, just before the curtain opened and I had to make my grand opening speech (3 or 4 lines long...).
Writer's block... humbagh!
Free time madness... Rubbish!
Heart break!? How long does it take to swallow that and go to hell? Quite a lot, but that is not the problem today.
Today's recurrent pessimism brings me to a lack of emotional purpose. A feed of fears and loathing for all that is and all that was related with me life..
Knowing, in my heart, that all is much better than it seems, and that life is as it is because the way things are, is the way things are.
Memory lane my foot...
We decide which memories we put in the box.
The question marks in the past are placed by us along the way, as land marks of situations and events that we don't quite understand. Closures (thank you Adam for the term lesson) that never took place.
Sure its fine to blame it one somebody else, or to assume a downfall attitude towards life, as the little unlucky man has to walk among the plains of sorrow. (Just because he wants too!)
Everything as a purpose, even when we feel a stab aching pain, after being stabbed, even that has a purpose. Obviously, our body is resenting the fact that it was just pierced by a foot long chainsaw, and unexplainly calls for some little assistance, a band-aid should do it!
Powered by the instantaneous motivation of a survival instinct we help ourselves to carry on.
A vision of a talk after a close encounter with a cutting instrument:
"OH DARN! I just been stabbed by life"
"Don't hurry, your life urges you to go on"
"Why?"
"Because it feels like it"
"But it hurts like hell!"
"No it doesn't it"
"How do you know?
"Wait and see!!!" - The little devil grins as he disappears from my vision.
OH wonder! Oh joy! These words are all that remain from a decision to write, in my free time!
Should I keep them to myself, before submitting them to a world blog!
Ah what the well! I don't keep skeletons in my closet, they are all here with me, dancing, since the Halloween of 1978, when Mr. Michael Myers helped released them with a small axe.
Word of advice!?
Just enjoy the thrilling life... It shifts direction unexpectaly
Nothing should be taken for granted, but when something does come, enjoy it to the fullest! Absorb it, take it as one... BE THE EXPERIENCE... Excel for all that is sacred in this life... to be happy is sacred priority number one!
Listening: Silence
Reading: Memories of Sherlock HOLMES !!! AHAHAHAH I SHOULD!
Seeing: DEAD PEOPLE ALL THE TIME! Humm! I must stop working at the coroners lab!!!
Sunday, November 16, 2003
The simple dawn
Yesterday's storm was like big lullaby that helped me fall into Morpheu's arms without much hassle.
Having waken up for a new day, at the brink of dawn, I found it quite beautiful that I can the rise of the sun, unlike it's set which I am much more accustomed to witness as I leave my restful bed behind.
With the strength of a 1000 sounds the last storm whipped all the clouds away, and the power of a bright yellow sound was free to cover all the valley in this windy morning.
On my way to work, I was amazed with the nearly desert streets, but I must confess that I would be safely hidden the city of dreams, instead of confronting the dawn after the storm.
Nevertheless, I am quite happy with the outcome of the day so far, I guess this must be due to a certain state of grace that follows me now, every way I go.
In this yellow dawn, the first after many painted with grey, I can say quite simply, that it is a pleasure to be alive and well, reckoning the beauty of it all. Such a kinky simplicity that gazes the world, since it's dawn to this dawn in particular, that I am only baffled for the little problems we created while gazing at this vision of a simple brink of day.
Life is simple, this dawn too.
Having waken up for a new day, at the brink of dawn, I found it quite beautiful that I can the rise of the sun, unlike it's set which I am much more accustomed to witness as I leave my restful bed behind.
With the strength of a 1000 sounds the last storm whipped all the clouds away, and the power of a bright yellow sound was free to cover all the valley in this windy morning.
On my way to work, I was amazed with the nearly desert streets, but I must confess that I would be safely hidden the city of dreams, instead of confronting the dawn after the storm.
Nevertheless, I am quite happy with the outcome of the day so far, I guess this must be due to a certain state of grace that follows me now, every way I go.
In this yellow dawn, the first after many painted with grey, I can say quite simply, that it is a pleasure to be alive and well, reckoning the beauty of it all. Such a kinky simplicity that gazes the world, since it's dawn to this dawn in particular, that I am only baffled for the little problems we created while gazing at this vision of a simple brink of day.
Life is simple, this dawn too.
Storms
What is about Storms that I find so lovely?
Twisters and tornadoes always have fascinated me ever since I was a small boy. Today, there is a storm lurking around Lisbon, and I still get the same chills as before.
I must say, there is something terribly romantic about storms, about being in the safety of one's home and feeling that here is safe and out there is being changed.
Maybe I am not the only one who thinks this way.
For instance in the movie Taxi driver, the main character says:"May 10th. Thank god for the rain, she's helped wash way the garbage and the trash from the sidewalks."
Indeed, storms are a cleaning process, a fantastic way of the Earth to purge itself, the outcome might not be pretty, but in the end the planet feels quite relieved.
My favourite season has always been the Fall, due to it's goldish colours laying about the forests, the sad rain, and the powerful thunderstorms that come with it. I feel refreshed with all the energy that comes out of a storm, the heat from the land, the smell from the earth.
I can't say much about the negative side of the storms, after all they never affected me that much, instead they inspired me to dream in the coziness of my own home.
I must be somewhat crazy to enjoy them, but I love driving in the rain, once again the feeling of overcoming the danger that lies on the road is thrilling.
Lastly, I like walking on the rain itself, and feeling the wind blowing on my face, stealing my tears away, leaving me covered by every angle with all it's might.
Storms are great. Today, in Lisbon there is a storm, I must be the only one that finds that great.
Maybe one day, I won't find it so great, I just hope that won't be too late.
Twisters and tornadoes always have fascinated me ever since I was a small boy. Today, there is a storm lurking around Lisbon, and I still get the same chills as before.
I must say, there is something terribly romantic about storms, about being in the safety of one's home and feeling that here is safe and out there is being changed.
Maybe I am not the only one who thinks this way.
For instance in the movie Taxi driver, the main character says:"May 10th. Thank god for the rain, she's helped wash way the garbage and the trash from the sidewalks."
Indeed, storms are a cleaning process, a fantastic way of the Earth to purge itself, the outcome might not be pretty, but in the end the planet feels quite relieved.
My favourite season has always been the Fall, due to it's goldish colours laying about the forests, the sad rain, and the powerful thunderstorms that come with it. I feel refreshed with all the energy that comes out of a storm, the heat from the land, the smell from the earth.
I can't say much about the negative side of the storms, after all they never affected me that much, instead they inspired me to dream in the coziness of my own home.
I must be somewhat crazy to enjoy them, but I love driving in the rain, once again the feeling of overcoming the danger that lies on the road is thrilling.
Lastly, I like walking on the rain itself, and feeling the wind blowing on my face, stealing my tears away, leaving me covered by every angle with all it's might.
Storms are great. Today, in Lisbon there is a storm, I must be the only one that finds that great.
Maybe one day, I won't find it so great, I just hope that won't be too late.
Saturday, November 15, 2003
Finding friends
Parting is such sweet sorrow... The poet once said.
Oh, how right he was!
It's never easy to say good bye, and it's worse when you don't have the time to say goodbye. After all time flows in a very dynamic way, when we seem to be on top of it, this one goes as fast as water in a rapid stream.
Good-bye is hard.
But, every now and then, life surprise us with some hellos. hellos that were hidden in the rocky memories of the past. Hellos that were not meant to disappear from our everyday life.
Yet, life does bring does memories to surface, and sometimes attached to them brings a live action reality attached to it. What once was a mere figment of imagination, now is a full size person, standing a few feet from you saying: HI!
Truthful to a friendship from times now past, my tendency is to say Hi!
Frozen by the mere prospect of being scrutinized for months and months of silence communication. How do you greet friends, that are part of your past? How do you bring them into your new reality?
Should one, ignore all the years of silence, and simply reboot a friendship as you would any given failure in your CPU!
I have no answer for this, except of course, the true gut feeling.
If we are true to ourselves, then our gut will tell us what to do!
IF Talk we must, then talk we must. If run we must, then beam me up scotty, for I have no place in being here.
Whatever we do, it must be true, for a friendship is ruled by the honour of honesty.
I am glad for the friends that I have found, the ones that are close and with many that are far. I am sadden by the feeling of many that are close are indeed very far from me, nevertheless life will grant me the powers to mend all. For nothing is greater than the feeling of true and blessed friendship.
I am proud of all the friends that I found so far, and glad for all those that found me, and happily didn't let go.
Oh, how right he was!
It's never easy to say good bye, and it's worse when you don't have the time to say goodbye. After all time flows in a very dynamic way, when we seem to be on top of it, this one goes as fast as water in a rapid stream.
Good-bye is hard.
But, every now and then, life surprise us with some hellos. hellos that were hidden in the rocky memories of the past. Hellos that were not meant to disappear from our everyday life.
Yet, life does bring does memories to surface, and sometimes attached to them brings a live action reality attached to it. What once was a mere figment of imagination, now is a full size person, standing a few feet from you saying: HI!
Truthful to a friendship from times now past, my tendency is to say Hi!
Frozen by the mere prospect of being scrutinized for months and months of silence communication. How do you greet friends, that are part of your past? How do you bring them into your new reality?
Should one, ignore all the years of silence, and simply reboot a friendship as you would any given failure in your CPU!
I have no answer for this, except of course, the true gut feeling.
If we are true to ourselves, then our gut will tell us what to do!
IF Talk we must, then talk we must. If run we must, then beam me up scotty, for I have no place in being here.
Whatever we do, it must be true, for a friendship is ruled by the honour of honesty.
I am glad for the friends that I have found, the ones that are close and with many that are far. I am sadden by the feeling of many that are close are indeed very far from me, nevertheless life will grant me the powers to mend all. For nothing is greater than the feeling of true and blessed friendship.
I am proud of all the friends that I found so far, and glad for all those that found me, and happily didn't let go.
Ma-muts spirit
Today, I begin my journal.
My cat died a few weeks ago.
I believe he wanted these words to come out!
Here they are.
Enjoy!
My cat died a few weeks ago.
I believe he wanted these words to come out!
Here they are.
Enjoy!
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