Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Endings and Beginnings
Esta é para vocês, que me acompanharam e fizeram companhia nestes anos.
Podia até fazer disto um desafio. Para mim as fitas são um testamento ao nosso carácter. Mostram quem realmente somos, e como marcámos as pessoas ao nosso redor. Por isso faço a benção. Só pelas fitas, vale a pena.
Obrigado pela vossa atenção. Obrigado pelas vossas palavras. Mas principalmente, obrigado pelos vossos blogs.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Eu voto
Para que haja um dia de "dizer a quem conhecemos o k sentimos".
Acho sempre que há muitas palavras extremamente importantes que passam despercebidas porque são tomadas como subentendidas pelas pessoas que não as professam. E que fazem tanta falta ao destinatário.
Palavras como amo-te, dou valor à nossa amizade, tenho orgulho em ti, admiro-te, fizeste um bom trabalho, és boa pessoa...
E acho que em vez de darmos cartões pré-escritos, ou comprarmos prendas materiais, devemos escrever nós próprios ou dizê-lo frente a frente estas palavras. Porque o que vem escrito não é o que nós sentimos, e o significado de tais prendas é muito vago.
Assim não havia culpa por nunca se ter dito a tal pessoa o que se pensava dela até ser tarde demais, e quebrava-se uma das maiores barreiras que se levanta na humanidade, a barreira da emoção. Vamos largar as nossas armaduras e abrir às pessoas certas uma nesga desta farsa que vivemos todos os dias, para que possam ver-nos brilhar, como brilhamos, por dentro. E quanto desse brilho é por sua causa.
Amo-te. Estou orgulhoso de ti. A nossa amizade é-me extremamente preciosa. Admiro-te, e tudo o que fazes. Acho que fazes um bom trabalho. Gostava de ser tão bom como tu. Acho que se todos fossem como tu, o mundo decerto seria melhor.
um pouco repetitivo, mas melhor ;)
Acho sempre que há muitas palavras extremamente importantes que passam despercebidas porque são tomadas como subentendidas pelas pessoas que não as professam. E que fazem tanta falta ao destinatário.
Palavras como amo-te, dou valor à nossa amizade, tenho orgulho em ti, admiro-te, fizeste um bom trabalho, és boa pessoa...
E acho que em vez de darmos cartões pré-escritos, ou comprarmos prendas materiais, devemos escrever nós próprios ou dizê-lo frente a frente estas palavras. Porque o que vem escrito não é o que nós sentimos, e o significado de tais prendas é muito vago.
Assim não havia culpa por nunca se ter dito a tal pessoa o que se pensava dela até ser tarde demais, e quebrava-se uma das maiores barreiras que se levanta na humanidade, a barreira da emoção. Vamos largar as nossas armaduras e abrir às pessoas certas uma nesga desta farsa que vivemos todos os dias, para que possam ver-nos brilhar, como brilhamos, por dentro. E quanto desse brilho é por sua causa.
Amo-te. Estou orgulhoso de ti. A nossa amizade é-me extremamente preciosa. Admiro-te, e tudo o que fazes. Acho que fazes um bom trabalho. Gostava de ser tão bom como tu. Acho que se todos fossem como tu, o mundo decerto seria melhor.
um pouco repetitivo, mas melhor ;)
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
id
More often than not, I am lost. I have no idea who I am, what I am doing, and what are my next steps. Everyone else, however, seems to have a notion on my life and future. I am seriously starting to believe everyone else knows me better than myself. Sadly, this is no joke, no sarcastic remark on anyone who tries to run my life, but the truth. People who spend time with me have a firm grip on who I am, as if I am a book that closes only to the mirror. All this while I struggle with every second that goes by, where I find myself at opposite sides of the scale, fighting myself for a place in my heart and mind. It seems that no matter how much change I go through, everyone else already knew that, and were waiting for me on the other side. Well, hello!, could you have helped a little, or told me how it would go down? Because I sometimes struggle to hold on to what I think I should, but for which I lack the strength.
In those brief moments, I pull up a chair and talk with life. I talk a, pun intended, lively conversation about it, and the future, and whatever it brings upon me.
And life, as usual, tilts its head a bit to the side, laughs gently in amusement of my futile attempts at it, raises both hands closed at me and asks "Which one?"
Confused, I pick. "The left one", for instance.
"What will be in it?" it asks. Patronizing me. Deservingly.
"A seashell. Old and soft, as if washed out by a hundred years of running water."
"Why not the other one?" it asks, curious.
"I don't know, I just picked one."
As it opens the hand, "Take a look.", a seashell, but not old, or soft. Brand new. Still baring it's inhabitant.
"That's not what I said."
Life kept its smile, but looked down at the shell, looked at me sideways, and proceeded to assume a more authoritarian stance, chin up, looking down on me. "It is."
"I cannot grant you what you wish for yourself. I cannot make you who you want to be. You must carry on and move as if you know how to move. I simply lay the cards, and leave you to play with them. I hold nothing on how you will play, or even if you will play at all. I give you something to choose on. This shell is what you created. It is a part of you. This shell will be your life. How you live it will determine it's fate."
"How come everyone else seem to know who I am?"
"Other people only listen to what comes out of your mouth. They only see what you show them. They only feel what you make them feel. For you to reach their understanding of yourself, you would have to quiet the doubt, and the unspoken words, and the undone actions, and the inexperienced feelings." Life said.
"For that, however, you must wash in a hundred years of running water."
Are you who you think you are? Don't others know you better than yourself?
In those brief moments, I pull up a chair and talk with life. I talk a, pun intended, lively conversation about it, and the future, and whatever it brings upon me.
And life, as usual, tilts its head a bit to the side, laughs gently in amusement of my futile attempts at it, raises both hands closed at me and asks "Which one?"
Confused, I pick. "The left one", for instance.
"What will be in it?" it asks. Patronizing me. Deservingly.
"A seashell. Old and soft, as if washed out by a hundred years of running water."
"Why not the other one?" it asks, curious.
"I don't know, I just picked one."
As it opens the hand, "Take a look.", a seashell, but not old, or soft. Brand new. Still baring it's inhabitant.
"That's not what I said."
Life kept its smile, but looked down at the shell, looked at me sideways, and proceeded to assume a more authoritarian stance, chin up, looking down on me. "It is."
"I cannot grant you what you wish for yourself. I cannot make you who you want to be. You must carry on and move as if you know how to move. I simply lay the cards, and leave you to play with them. I hold nothing on how you will play, or even if you will play at all. I give you something to choose on. This shell is what you created. It is a part of you. This shell will be your life. How you live it will determine it's fate."
"How come everyone else seem to know who I am?"
"Other people only listen to what comes out of your mouth. They only see what you show them. They only feel what you make them feel. For you to reach their understanding of yourself, you would have to quiet the doubt, and the unspoken words, and the undone actions, and the inexperienced feelings." Life said.
"For that, however, you must wash in a hundred years of running water."
Are you who you think you are? Don't others know you better than yourself?
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Tenho que me render
Esta série só fica melhor.
A RTP tem imenso crédito, destaca-se massivamente das suas concorrentes (sic e tvi, porque a rtp2 já não tem anda a ver), meramente por este programa: Conta-me Como Foi.
My hat's off to you.
A RTP tem imenso crédito, destaca-se massivamente das suas concorrentes (sic e tvi, porque a rtp2 já não tem anda a ver), meramente por este programa: Conta-me Como Foi.
My hat's off to you.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
T'is fucking L-day
Today is the day. The day when I become a complete adult, who is certified, by society, that I need to learn no more in order to inhabit said society. Today is the day which will in the future be defined as the day when I made some of my best friends, or the day from which on I never saw those people again. Today is the day from which on I finally have to earn my blood.
Today is the day dreams die. Not the day they're born.
Today is the day of all days of my life.
Today is L-day.
*help*
Today is the day dreams die. Not the day they're born.
Today is the day of all days of my life.
Today is L-day.
*help*
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Informação importante para gente ocupada.
Se alguém pensa que este homem só serve para entreter, que não diz nada de importante, aí vai:
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | M - Th 11p / 10c | |||
| Jim Cramer Pt. 1 | ||||
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| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | M - Th 11p / 10c | |||
| Jim Cramer Pt. 2 | ||||
| ||||
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | M - Th 11p / 10c | |||
| Jim Cramer Pt. 3 | ||||
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