terça-feira, 23 de fevereiro de 2016

Mais um texto sem título

Seria o foco relevante para nosso crescimento? E aquela busca infinita pela pausa utópica jaz num canto dos afazeres?

A mesa está cheia, meu amigo. Arrume-a do seu jeito, mas nunca deixe de perder o fluxo. Ele é raro.

Já está na hora de classificá-lo como fantasma do passado (recente)?

Segue em frente. Não vire à esquerda, jamais! Não há relevâncias atrás.


terça-feira, 16 de fevereiro de 2016


Isso já não é mais uma simples bola de neve. Ou uma pequena bola de neve. Ou uma razoável bola de neve. Ou uma grandiosa bola de neve que destrói tudo por que passa e leva tudo o que está no caminho. Ou uma gigante bola de neve que empurra sem pena tudo o que está na frente e torna sua destruição mais difícil de ser feita em pouco tempo previsto.

É uma avalanche.

E ela está aqui dentro, esperando, por pouco tempo talvez, para se libertar e destruir tudo o que vem e volta, tudo o que tinha e se extinguiu, tudo o que sente. Ela está parada? Pois sua taxa de esvaziamento, caso exista, é tão pequena que se mostra atualmente imperceptível. Devemos correr? Devemos fugir? Ou devemos esperar conforme a ciência sempre nos guia?

Porque eu ainda não chorei. E isso é assustador.

quinta-feira, 4 de fevereiro de 2016

The Tales of the Bears - part V: Detachment (or About a Platonic Love -part II)

Once upon a time, a smart, lovely bear walked through the temple of shadows and patterned with a fighter bear.

And this is it.

Because after that first bear lost all his previous capacity of detachment. He just could not let the other bear go at any time. None of them knew if it was too late or too soon.

Yet, the two bears - the lovely one and the fighter one - continued their separate journey. But, in the air, that same static atmosphere, that comes before a pandemoniac storm, remains.

quarta-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2016

The Tales of The Bears - part IV: Under evolution

Even evolution is incapable to answer the questions I made every day. Science is just not enough anymore. Fiction stopped working so long ago. Faith no longer matters to us.

There was no significant change through the time spent on this. There were no differences between the life, death and times of a caniform being among the oriental forests. 

They were mine!
But what were they?
What is it you call by truth? Who do you trust? What would they know? Who knows?

I am not like that. I am a simple, foreign stranger who likes to attach the ones I think I could never loose.

Yet I lost. 

Ei minua!

Ei minua!

Puhun Suomi. 

Mikä on kutsumus?

segunda-feira, 1 de fevereiro de 2016

The Tales of the Bears - part III: Dirty dirty pain again!

Dirty, dirty pain, here you come again!
The one that pictures my own face at a long horizon of sorrow. The one that makes my nights loose its ending, yet in a horrible way it could ever end. The one that craves his bearish claws under my skin to my bones, into my single heart beating alone in all this darkness.

Here you come again to make me feel terribly sorry for losing my time in my thoughts and in my prayers, even though this atheist self of mine has chosen this path to follow, once, so long ago. All of the stories shared were closed by that gigantic lack of words and sounds. 

You came to destroy me! To betray me! To slay me! How could you ask me without words to be you friend after all those pictures I have made for us? How could you still sit there, in perpetual silence, like nothing between us were happening at all. What about us? What about our paradise? What is heaven compared to all that beauty we have seen lying on the horizon?

On our horizon?

Or was it just me who saw all of it? Was I imagining? Wasn't the whole scenario of our love just real? Was I crazy?

...Am I crazy?

Why didn't you tell me?

The Tales of the Bears - part II: Nothing

Nothing at all.
Nothing at once.
Nothing left.
Nothing to you.
And most painful of all
Nothing to him.

It's like you never existed in his life.
Like all those pillow talks when you both were lying in each of your beds, in different places, like all of those words were nothing.

All destroyed.
All forgotten.
All unloved.
All abandoned.

And then...
Here comes the pain.

The Tales of the Bears - part I: Have you fallen...?

I beg your pardon, Sir, but have you fallen in love for a boy once before?

Because I think when you fall for a girl, you somehow imagine that your main mission is to protect this girl from the rest of the World, to be her guardian and protector, to be her man.

But once you love a boy, you put this boy in the very center of your whole universe. Every single choice you make is somehow influenced by his very existance, by his words, his opinions, his lips, his penetrating and pure eyes that you can only see from a simple, old and unchanged photograph.

This boy suddenly becomes the pair of lens that allows you to see a much more colourful world than how it actually is. You feel every single glimpse of happiness you could ever feel, all at once, like a storm of strong emotions. You smile unconsciously every time your thoughts go directly to him, even though you never saw his smile in real life. His voice, still completely imaginary to you because you also never heard it at all, surprisingly sounds more beautiful than the most beautiful of the songs you have ever listened to. 

You promise yourself this boy will be the only One in your life, the Chosen One, the Love of Your Life, the Sun and the stars, the Moon of your night, your everything. You promise yourself that you will be completely his own, his love, his sacrimony, that you will do everything to be his everything. You picture the most beautiful scenario to the moments you would be together as one, as two, as infinite.

And then...
It means nothing.