.
How the time flies when the mind is occupied?
With all that has been going lately, it should not surprise me if one day i wake up on the eve of my death? With 24 hours left, would my endeavours in life had been fulfilled with all the occupations my mind had wondered off to in my lifetime?
It is nice to have this time right now, to pause.
Do you ever pause?
Do you ever take your time, and just inspire yourself with that breath that reminds how much alive are you?
Did you feel that? just now? a breath coming in to the system?
For a moment now, all your past is mere oblivion and all your future is an infinite choice of roads, to many to consider, and all you are left to grasp is Now!
"
-What's happening?
-We're in now Now!
- What happened to Then?
- We missed it.
- When?
- Just Now.
- When will Then be Now?
- Soon... "
So what do we do with Now?
Whatever we want.
Write to friends and tell them how much you love them.
Go and play in the city on the edge of forever, and dream of all the possibilities of life has to offer, realizing that it doesn't matter to relive all the choices, what matters is building a chain of choices as you go along and feel accomplished by the decisions you made.
It is up to me, to give you all the best i can give, if only I know how to...
For now, nothing else comes to mind... i better keep on breathing...
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Emptiness of purpose
There are times in my life, where i have wonder what am i doing here?
I guess this is the common question that strikes me down with all its might.
Right now, i feel completely empty, as if my existence had no meaning, rather than to spread pain all around. As a human being, i have failed many times my friends and all those who have shed some love for me.
Why is it that unwillingly we cause pain in the ones we seek to love the most?
What is the reason, behind all this madness called live, that brings no answers and instead leaves us with only a handful of clues that allow only a gifted few to find their way out through the mess of life.
I guess that when it comes to love, it is impossible for me to find any positive solution, that will please either me or the one who I love.
Also, I think that I am so beyond believing in love that all the pain that comes from it just clashes with the shell of my indifference for it all.
Being alone, might be the only way to encounter reconciliation with my fears. I hate being hurt or to cause harm for that matter. Therefor it is easier to avoid any love than to let me be fooled by it.
Having my own mother believing that all i want is sexual gratification rather than a stable relationship.
It is very difficult for me to trust in love. I wonder why?
I have been only abandoned twice, from people i thought i loved passionately. I have had my share of disappointments with others who did not fulfill my expectations nor did i reach up to theirs for them to consider me a suited candidate for their love.
But was it love?
In the end of my life, will I be able to say that I have actually loved, or will i be only allowed to think that i have loved, having, in fact, never had a true notion of what it was.
I guess this is the common question that strikes me down with all its might.
Right now, i feel completely empty, as if my existence had no meaning, rather than to spread pain all around. As a human being, i have failed many times my friends and all those who have shed some love for me.
Why is it that unwillingly we cause pain in the ones we seek to love the most?
What is the reason, behind all this madness called live, that brings no answers and instead leaves us with only a handful of clues that allow only a gifted few to find their way out through the mess of life.
I guess that when it comes to love, it is impossible for me to find any positive solution, that will please either me or the one who I love.
Also, I think that I am so beyond believing in love that all the pain that comes from it just clashes with the shell of my indifference for it all.
Being alone, might be the only way to encounter reconciliation with my fears. I hate being hurt or to cause harm for that matter. Therefor it is easier to avoid any love than to let me be fooled by it.
Having my own mother believing that all i want is sexual gratification rather than a stable relationship.
It is very difficult for me to trust in love. I wonder why?
I have been only abandoned twice, from people i thought i loved passionately. I have had my share of disappointments with others who did not fulfill my expectations nor did i reach up to theirs for them to consider me a suited candidate for their love.
But was it love?
In the end of my life, will I be able to say that I have actually loved, or will i be only allowed to think that i have loved, having, in fact, never had a true notion of what it was.
Monday, December 17, 2007
This breath
Sometimes not saying anything at all is better than just blabbering looking for some good words to throw around.
How keen is life with all the variations under one theme! The theme, obviously breath!
What is the constant motion that acompanies us from our first independent moment out of the womb and just before life fades into oblibvion?
In it we see many oportunities to love and hate, create or destroy, awake or sleep!
Nothing is more important to anyone who wants to live than the breath he or she carry, because implicitly they know that without that vessel the trip that they started is over.
They can be in joy, they can be in pain, but they will be breathing until they die.
I am thankful to my parents for the breath they gave me 30 years ago. Thanks to this I have travelled a bit, I have been both in joy and in pain, fortunately I barely know the latter and I still cannot fathom how to master the joy.
People, wiser in spirit and presence of mind, tell me that Carpe diem is the day! Cease the day and all things will fall into place. Oddly enough, I tend to waste my days in rumblings of past glories and unachieved futures!
I would say that may use of this vessel is commonly placed in the melancolic derivations of what i should have and the what ifs that usually support them.
My life is as rich as it can be and still i feel the void of empty purpose lurking inside of me.
We pull to us what our hearts desire, however if we focus on what we fear we will attract that as well.
Derivations of an empty hour
by Mr. Sousa
mamuts@gmail.com
How keen is life with all the variations under one theme! The theme, obviously breath!
What is the constant motion that acompanies us from our first independent moment out of the womb and just before life fades into oblibvion?
In it we see many oportunities to love and hate, create or destroy, awake or sleep!
Nothing is more important to anyone who wants to live than the breath he or she carry, because implicitly they know that without that vessel the trip that they started is over.
They can be in joy, they can be in pain, but they will be breathing until they die.
I am thankful to my parents for the breath they gave me 30 years ago. Thanks to this I have travelled a bit, I have been both in joy and in pain, fortunately I barely know the latter and I still cannot fathom how to master the joy.
People, wiser in spirit and presence of mind, tell me that Carpe diem is the day! Cease the day and all things will fall into place. Oddly enough, I tend to waste my days in rumblings of past glories and unachieved futures!
I would say that may use of this vessel is commonly placed in the melancolic derivations of what i should have and the what ifs that usually support them.
My life is as rich as it can be and still i feel the void of empty purpose lurking inside of me.
We pull to us what our hearts desire, however if we focus on what we fear we will attract that as well.
Derivations of an empty hour
by Mr. Sousa
mamuts@gmail.com
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Funny bitterness
.
Dwelling on funny thoughts it's a laughable matter to anyone who takes lifes too seriously.
I guess I am the kind of person, who tries to take life too lightly when it comes to everyone else, except my own.
Hoe is me!
A typical self-pity scenario that society as endured for too long and produced creative replies such as "Cheer up! At least you got your health" or "Spare me with the pity and self-loathing".
I wonder if people are naturally bad or if they are born like that. Possibly some are thaught to be evil, just be following the example of others, without considering for once that to question someone's acts is far more legitim than following them blindly.
I guess I am not inclined to be funny, at least I don't think I will be with this bitter tone and harsh examples.
Paramount moments.
Now, there is something worth spending some fragments of time pondering. What were my greatest moments lately. Will I ever match those moments in my remaing life time?
Funny, sometimes I think more about living the moment, now I am divided between my past and my future. Considering if the future will match or even beat the past, without putting to consideration whatever gift my present has installed for me.
I wanted to write something today. I wanted it to be deep and heart felt, so that my words, put together with so much effort would find its way to move someone.
The best feeling I have had, thus far, was realizing that in my life some of my actions, one at least, perhaps more, have made somebody's life better at one specific point.
Still, I am no angel, and for every positive action, I most certainly produce an equally negative reaction, as the laws of the Universe state.
Last funny thought of all. The angel.
I wish I was an angel. No to fly nor play the banjo up on the clouds. but rather to assist, to talk, to cheerish, to reach into the depths of feeling and release anybodya adn everybody from the river of pain the flows beneath their skin, hidden behind false smiles and funny innuendos.
I guess anyone can be an angel. All it takes is a random act of kindness to anyone we meet.
without prejudice, without pride, without a scoring intent.
Why?
Because it is funny to be as good as good can be to anyone, no matter how bitter they can be.
A bit of magic, here and there... that's all it takes.
However, for magic to work, there must be believers.
For its from the chains of belief that the magic draws the strenght to do something unique.
In this mellow day of october, I realize that to be an angel, all it takes is a bit of belief in my own acts of random kindness, despite all the sorrow I might feel at any given point.
All creatures deserve happiness.
Oh well!
mamuts@gmail.com
Dwelling on funny thoughts it's a laughable matter to anyone who takes lifes too seriously.
I guess I am the kind of person, who tries to take life too lightly when it comes to everyone else, except my own.
Hoe is me!
A typical self-pity scenario that society as endured for too long and produced creative replies such as "Cheer up! At least you got your health" or "Spare me with the pity and self-loathing".
I wonder if people are naturally bad or if they are born like that. Possibly some are thaught to be evil, just be following the example of others, without considering for once that to question someone's acts is far more legitim than following them blindly.
I guess I am not inclined to be funny, at least I don't think I will be with this bitter tone and harsh examples.
Paramount moments.
Now, there is something worth spending some fragments of time pondering. What were my greatest moments lately. Will I ever match those moments in my remaing life time?
Funny, sometimes I think more about living the moment, now I am divided between my past and my future. Considering if the future will match or even beat the past, without putting to consideration whatever gift my present has installed for me.
I wanted to write something today. I wanted it to be deep and heart felt, so that my words, put together with so much effort would find its way to move someone.
The best feeling I have had, thus far, was realizing that in my life some of my actions, one at least, perhaps more, have made somebody's life better at one specific point.
Still, I am no angel, and for every positive action, I most certainly produce an equally negative reaction, as the laws of the Universe state.
Last funny thought of all. The angel.
I wish I was an angel. No to fly nor play the banjo up on the clouds. but rather to assist, to talk, to cheerish, to reach into the depths of feeling and release anybodya adn everybody from the river of pain the flows beneath their skin, hidden behind false smiles and funny innuendos.
I guess anyone can be an angel. All it takes is a random act of kindness to anyone we meet.
without prejudice, without pride, without a scoring intent.
Why?
Because it is funny to be as good as good can be to anyone, no matter how bitter they can be.
A bit of magic, here and there... that's all it takes.
However, for magic to work, there must be believers.
For its from the chains of belief that the magic draws the strenght to do something unique.
In this mellow day of october, I realize that to be an angel, all it takes is a bit of belief in my own acts of random kindness, despite all the sorrow I might feel at any given point.
All creatures deserve happiness.
Oh well!
mamuts@gmail.com
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The inspirational energy of depression
.
O me! O life!
Of these questions
Of these recurring,
Of the endless trains
of the faithless,
of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever
reaproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
....
This is from a poem by Walt Whitman. I will not delay with the full transcription of such a fine poem that seems to be a work inspired
in doubts for life.
Doubts that seem to be reminiscent of a sort of pain.
Sketches of pain can sometimes be used to express such beauty that transcends reason and borders on the
fine colours of emotion.
At times, during my youth it was common for me to be depressed because I would love someone that would not love me back, or if somebody said something bad about me just to make me feel guilty for the choices I made here or there.
I remember quite vividly of having long faces followed by huge depressions-wannabes.
The funny thing was, that during those days I was able to express my creativity in ways that most of the times I couldn't.
Much like Whitman with some of his darker work, probably a result of well channeled pain into inspiration.
This is the trouble that afflicts much people these days. The frozen of the mind due to a swelling of the heart. Painful as some of life's events may be, one can use that negative side to our advantadge, to our expression.
People are different all over, but they do obey to the same common rules when it comes to function of reason and emotion. The complex process differs of course, but in the end, we respond to love, pain, joy, infortune, and so many others.
if your joy and gay, perform a merry dance, draw a joyful painting, sing a song... whatever you do, express yourself. for the joy of being happy is as precious as life can be.
However, to understand the deepness of sadness is an art in itself... one that can only be mastered when you've suffered once. Beautiful works have been produced throught the ages due to great depressions.
The point I want to emphasize is that you can enjoy (later on) the prodigal son, in its art form, of your so called chaos of balance.
Looking forward to see, hear or read the works of ye depressed, that do not know the power of creation that lurks in the shadows of any given tear-drop.
mamuts@gmail.com
O me! O life!
Of these questions
Of these recurring,
Of the endless trains
of the faithless,
of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever
reaproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
....
This is from a poem by Walt Whitman. I will not delay with the full transcription of such a fine poem that seems to be a work inspired
in doubts for life.
Doubts that seem to be reminiscent of a sort of pain.
Sketches of pain can sometimes be used to express such beauty that transcends reason and borders on the
fine colours of emotion.
At times, during my youth it was common for me to be depressed because I would love someone that would not love me back, or if somebody said something bad about me just to make me feel guilty for the choices I made here or there.
I remember quite vividly of having long faces followed by huge depressions-wannabes.
The funny thing was, that during those days I was able to express my creativity in ways that most of the times I couldn't.
Much like Whitman with some of his darker work, probably a result of well channeled pain into inspiration.
This is the trouble that afflicts much people these days. The frozen of the mind due to a swelling of the heart. Painful as some of life's events may be, one can use that negative side to our advantadge, to our expression.
People are different all over, but they do obey to the same common rules when it comes to function of reason and emotion. The complex process differs of course, but in the end, we respond to love, pain, joy, infortune, and so many others.
if your joy and gay, perform a merry dance, draw a joyful painting, sing a song... whatever you do, express yourself. for the joy of being happy is as precious as life can be.
However, to understand the deepness of sadness is an art in itself... one that can only be mastered when you've suffered once. Beautiful works have been produced throught the ages due to great depressions.
The point I want to emphasize is that you can enjoy (later on) the prodigal son, in its art form, of your so called chaos of balance.
Looking forward to see, hear or read the works of ye depressed, that do not know the power of creation that lurks in the shadows of any given tear-drop.
mamuts@gmail.com
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Avoid the meadow
.
At times it seems like there is something hidden behind the walls of truth.
Word as it that the truth is a preception of reality only available to those who are in tune with the universe perspective.
What one sees, usually is what you get, not withstanding the variables surrounding the case at hand.
"Avoid the meadow" is the sentence of a movie, where a cow comes to life to attack a man that is passing by, on his way to find Master Pain, aka Betty.
If I knew the reasons that led me to the meadow in the first place, maybe I could find a fresh way to avoid it next time.
With the truth in place, playing its role as lady destiny sees fit, I am always subject to whatever the meadow has instaled for me.
Bah...
Today, I walked right into that one, and all the traps behind that soft plain full of mirages took me out.
As such, I am out...
At times it seems like there is something hidden behind the walls of truth.
Word as it that the truth is a preception of reality only available to those who are in tune with the universe perspective.
What one sees, usually is what you get, not withstanding the variables surrounding the case at hand.
"Avoid the meadow" is the sentence of a movie, where a cow comes to life to attack a man that is passing by, on his way to find Master Pain, aka Betty.
If I knew the reasons that led me to the meadow in the first place, maybe I could find a fresh way to avoid it next time.
With the truth in place, playing its role as lady destiny sees fit, I am always subject to whatever the meadow has instaled for me.
Bah...
Today, I walked right into that one, and all the traps behind that soft plain full of mirages took me out.
As such, I am out...
Monday, September 10, 2007
Lazy Jones
.
Lazy Jones is a computer game for the Commodore 64, ZX Spectrum, MSX and Tatung Einstein. It was written by David Whittaker and released by Terminal Software in 1984.
The plot of the game is simple- a hotel care taker named Jones is bored and decides to go in the rooms and play games.
Lazy Jones is essentially a collection of fifteen smaller sub-games. The game takes place inside a hotel with three floors, connected by an elevator. Jones character is apparently a lazy hotel employee, who doesn't much care for his work, but prefers to sneak into the rooms to play video games instead.
The main screen in Lazy Jones is the hotel interior. There, your character can use the elevator to travel freely between the three floors, but he must watch out for enemies: the current hotel manager, on the top floor - the ghost of the previous manager, on the bottom floor - and a cleaning cart (moving by itself, of course) on the middle floor. The enemies only walk around and don't pursue your character, but contact with them is fatal.
My mood these days is much like Jones' character. I am also bored with the way my life is turning out and rather by watching movies or tv series than focusing on what life is really about.
Obviously many might wonder what life is all about... I believe it is about living.
Others might argue that watching movies is a choice of life... if you don't believe me, what are critics doing all the time?
In any case, I feel desperately bored with my life, and no game or movie changes my mood these days. Instead I feel like I am burning precious time.
Life is surely about much more than focusing on the imaginations of others. I believe that the imagination of others, from books, movies, conversations or any other form of expression can inspire our personal ideas to make life a much more fuller experience.
Nonetheless, I feel like a Jones, lazy around life as if I had nothing better to do.
Careless to pay attention to any major events happening close or far, I feel that my life is reaching a new low in pointless strain.
If some sort of will would inspire me to reach further in purpose, I might aspire for higher ground, instead I just compare my results with others.
The experience of life is truly unique for each person. There is no such thing as comparing results.
My life will be what it has to be! For now, I will be just a Lazy Jones! Why? Because I can.
How long it will last?
As long as Lazy Jones let me...
Lazy Jones is a computer game for the Commodore 64, ZX Spectrum, MSX and Tatung Einstein. It was written by David Whittaker and released by Terminal Software in 1984.
The plot of the game is simple- a hotel care taker named Jones is bored and decides to go in the rooms and play games.
Lazy Jones is essentially a collection of fifteen smaller sub-games. The game takes place inside a hotel with three floors, connected by an elevator. Jones character is apparently a lazy hotel employee, who doesn't much care for his work, but prefers to sneak into the rooms to play video games instead.
The main screen in Lazy Jones is the hotel interior. There, your character can use the elevator to travel freely between the three floors, but he must watch out for enemies: the current hotel manager, on the top floor - the ghost of the previous manager, on the bottom floor - and a cleaning cart (moving by itself, of course) on the middle floor. The enemies only walk around and don't pursue your character, but contact with them is fatal.
My mood these days is much like Jones' character. I am also bored with the way my life is turning out and rather by watching movies or tv series than focusing on what life is really about.
Obviously many might wonder what life is all about... I believe it is about living.
Others might argue that watching movies is a choice of life... if you don't believe me, what are critics doing all the time?
In any case, I feel desperately bored with my life, and no game or movie changes my mood these days. Instead I feel like I am burning precious time.
Life is surely about much more than focusing on the imaginations of others. I believe that the imagination of others, from books, movies, conversations or any other form of expression can inspire our personal ideas to make life a much more fuller experience.
Nonetheless, I feel like a Jones, lazy around life as if I had nothing better to do.
Careless to pay attention to any major events happening close or far, I feel that my life is reaching a new low in pointless strain.
If some sort of will would inspire me to reach further in purpose, I might aspire for higher ground, instead I just compare my results with others.
The experience of life is truly unique for each person. There is no such thing as comparing results.
My life will be what it has to be! For now, I will be just a Lazy Jones! Why? Because I can.
How long it will last?
As long as Lazy Jones let me...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)