o tempo vai passar…

O tempo vai passar,

Os anos vão confirmar

As três palavras que eu proferi:

Amigo estou aqui.

Contest: what’s the worst invention ever?

This is intended to specially disappoint those who, childishly, think I’m uncapable of feeling angry, sour or outraged (or all of the mentioned).

Please consider your utmost feelings while choosing your answer. Thank you.

Roma

When I took this one, I felt lonely. Rome is the kind of place that could be better if visited with company.

The picture still looks great, though. To be honest, I almost can’t remember being there anymore: seems too unreal.

about teaching and being taught

A few months ago, I finally noticed that it’s good to form opinions about stuff. More important than simply having them… it’s essential to build your own. But it’s also essential to respect every other opinion, without giving in, though: disagreeing without being rude is perhaps the greatest virtue a person can have.

Recent experiences made me believe that teachers have to have talent. It’s a mixture of charisma, instantaneous empathy, patience, intelligence. Being a true genius doesn’t mean you’re able to teach well. Generally, it means exactly the opposite.

I’ll be tested in a very special way tomorrow. All the pressure is on me, though, as usual… as always. The weight of the world is (hopefully) a healthy exercise for my back. My mind threw the white towel.

Phone just rang. Told me I would surely do well. It’s not the first time I hear that… actually, I think it’s the second.

Snow x rain

I had a very clear dream, last night. I dreamed of my window, and thick snowflakes falling outside. The world was black and white again. Felt so strange, but so real at the same time.

When I woke up, turned out it was only rain. Very thick rain drops.

Right… of course. Snow makes no sound: each flake gently lands on the ground/roof/someone’s hand or face, silently. But, during a heavy fall, I get so excited like it was the biggest event I’ve ever seen: it’s like a music concert.

Snow is a rock concert.

Rain, on the other hand, is a noisy and wet experience: the slightest drops drive everyone away. But I never feel like running. Rain helps to find my own peace: it silences me, something not trivial.

Rain is an orchestra playing a requiem for me. Except that I’m technically not dead yet.

I thought of a picture to publish with this one, but it’s not mine, so, wouldn’t be fair.

Another refurbished one

How should silence be interpreted?
a pair of shoes in front of the door
a smile is now dessacrated
I’m not running anymore

To look at a window which is long gone
to walk up a hill when I’m done
to look at a window, that leads to a wall
to walk down the hill, the window is too small.

The hall is now empty
the shoes are anymore
now I wonder what happened
if the problem was the shoe store.

The window got small
but for a pair of tiny shoes
not too small after all.

Authory: unknown, unfortunately

One day, the following painting crossed my path:

The picture does not show, put there were around 25 other paintings pretty close to this one, hanging on the very same wall. Still, my eyes found this guy and paralyzed. Then I paralyzed. Must have looked very stupid, so suddenly.

It could and could not be a person. If you want, you can see little happy (and also unhappy) faces all over it.

I particularly liked the following idea: it’s someone plaing the cello. Yes, the cello would be floating. And yes, it would be supported by a tiny, yet smiling head. The three little arcs, upper left, would be hair. Well, and so on.

Another 5 minutes standing there, and here we go: could be also the same guy showering. His right hand is unusually huge, I’ll give you that; the left one is just hanging out up there, so he can wash his armpit with the biggest soap ever made by human race. Forcing even more, the explanation for the black “dots” all over the painting would be… bubbles. Never forget, also, that this guy doesn’t seem to enjoy the shower a lot.

Not too long ago, I would only say “bah” and ignore such a thing. But now, I can really spend a lifetime trying to catch any trace of meaning the painter might have wanted to express. Or maybe, any trace of meaning trapped in my own mind.

Disturbed, or peaceful. Lonely, or cheerful. Music playing, or soccer playing. So many antagonic possibilities. With so few colors and forms. How can something like this amaze me?

What to say about the half-lady on the left? Maybe she’s not there only by mistake of the photographer. Or maybe was the only picture that came out good. But then he would have cropped the image. Right?

Chasing the flame

Schedule is tightening up for important stuff, and I’m getting lazier by the hour, to do them. This makes me feel confused and strange, and sorry for not being in the mood to play any music at all… like I sort of promised.

Well, as time is not an issue, these days I finally paid an outrageous amount of money for a book, after ages waiting for it to come out translated: it just took too long, and I bought it in English.

Chasing the flame: Sergio Vieira de Mello and the fight to save the world is a biography written by the awarded journalist Samantha Power. She had the opportunity to meet the man who would very, very probably be Kofi Annan’s substitute.

I haven’t read much yet (go back to the first paragraph to know why), but this is a book I’ll surely read to the end. Soon.

For some time already, this inexplicable curiosity and admiration and delight about diplomacy has awaken inside of me. I can’t tell what the hell does this mean, as I can’t really explain what on Earth is going on: I’m terrible with words.

But I really want to learn more about the life of someone who’s been said to be one of the most charismatic, pragmatic and passionate diplomats of all time. Someone who’s seen the worst and the best of the world, and never felt satisfied with hipocrisy, lies or, unfortunately, just vicious will.

Sometimes one person can change something. Sometimes, millions of others… can’t.

… blablabla… yeah, anyways… point is… I, as a super-duper intelectual mind, recommend this book.

Persistence

Or stubborness?

Or persistence?

New idea

There are still a few band members to present (2 or 3), but I’m too shy and mostly lazy and disappointed with how I look like in a video.

But I had a new idea these days: I’ll (do my best to) record my favorite songs for different situations. It could be just “for a sad day” or “for a happy day” but that’s too cliché. I’ll try something different.

The initial idea was to simply publish the songs/compositions I like the most, but hey, I’m too young to be arrested and rot in jail. So I’ll give them my personal, swine touch: I’m sure that’s allowed.

This picture has no real meaning, as it is just a small table decoration. So, giving myself a free psychological analysis: it could be perhaps a little japanese woman singing, with her sloppy husband/partner twisting and going crazy with the music. Nothing that people won’t do for money…
Ah! If they were a group, I would call them “Mr. and Mrs. Sowieso”. Cool, oder?

Like they say on TV:
Beijo, me liga! :P
“See you” next time, whoever you might be.