Panic

You know you ain’t going nowhere
You’re stuck inside while the mind is flying
You said you’d help me in the morning
Twisting on pins into my eyes
And dragging on the ceiling below you
Fixing up the walls with your crooked hands
While you’re miles away, miles away, miles away

I didn’t think it’ll all end up like this
There’s spiders on the wall and they stink of piss
Dead heads lying in the corner
Staring at me making me feel bad
I put my hands up to my eyes
But the holes in my palms let me find a way
To corner you

I can feel my chest crushing inwards
Sucking through my skin into my BRAIN
Oxygen pushing on the window cracks in the glass let
It slip away
I start to cry and I keep on laughing
I close my eyes at what’s left inside
And then I’ll ran away

For all the time this land
For all the time in my hand
Slip around in depth found
Calmness fall once again

Razor blades floating in the warm bath
Air bubbles in your veins turning my hands black
Whispers coming from the next room
Window cleaner keep on SPYING
I put my hands up to my eyes
But the HOLES in my PALMS let me find
A way to corner me

Twelve tonnes hammer for My breakfast
Slipping of the edge in catatonic blood
Multiple decibel inscriptions trying all they
Can in miles an hour… face
Grey and looming downwards
Sniffing all the time for a ounce of silence
Screaming all the way

Numbers counting down inside me
Solar system thoughts circle round my head
False teeth hanging from the ceiling
Feet looking of the goms of the 2nd son
I eat my hands cos my legs are crying
You Broke my neck cause I Snapped my spine
I wish you would Die away

To all the time in this land
And all the time in my hands
Circle Round in depth found
Calmness Fall once again

  1. After a long walk on the Muse world, I am now doing it on Anathema’s. There are days…

Emotional Barrenness

Long time no see! The difference between ‘sentiment’ and ’emotion’ or the ‘sentimental state’ and the ’emotional state’ is very much tenuous. I had some (much) time ago the desire of writing here something about these two states but, for a couple of recent reasons, I have postponed it. I am not very much pro one or the other but in compensation I am very much curious about both.

There was I chatting with somebody about the little nothings of life until that somebody came up with the expression in Portuguese: “estou presentemente em fase de total aridez emocional“. I liked it, mainly the concept of “aridez emocional”[1]. Then I thought “I gotta write something in my blog about this”. My first step? Translate it. I thought quite a lot about the translation because, like I already said here in older posts, my English sucks. But I am a persistent boy and there it is: “I am currently going through a phase of total emotional barrenness“. The keyword here is ‘barrenness’. Then we can jump from emotional to sentimental and backwards according to the moment…

I would say that ’emotional’ is something very physical. Fear, anger, sadness, shame, jealousy, are emotions. Our body is very much sensitive to many external incitements which, depending very much on our inborn chemistry, electricity and magnetism, can cause different reactions on different people. This is obvious! Am I the emotional type guy? This can be a question raised by many people but much more often totally ignored by the majority. Very often we are highly emotional but we really don’t give a damn for how much and when. I, for instance, love football but when my favorite team scores, I never jump out my seat as I had springs under my feet, don’t break a couple of chairs and drink two liters of beer to celebrate the goal. The further I usually go when my team scores is a relatively shy lion shout using the word ‘goal’ which some times causes no more than a temporary hoarse state. Being emotional is pretty good. Being too much emotional is pretty bad. Crossing a phase of emotional barrenness when emotions are related to love? Well, maybe it should make us think about it…

I would say that ‘sentimental’ is something very mental. Love, hate, respect, are sentiments. I would say that first come the emotions. Then our brain processes them and generates the respective sentiment. Finally, that sentiment generates consequent emotions. Easily said, the emotion ‘love’ can generate the sentiment ‘love’ which, on its own, will reinforce the emotion ‘love’. Silly? Too complicated? If it is, you just take ‘sentiment’ and ’emotion’ as synonyms and that’s it. Life will run light and easy! If not, then you may have your own definition or follow mine. Following mine, I would also rather say that crossing a phase of sentimental barrenness, when sentiments are related to relationships with other human beings, should make us think.

What the hell am I talking about emotions and sentiments for? Nothing special. Just because there was I chatting with somebody about the little nothings of life until that somebody came up with the expression “I am currently going through a phase of total emotional barrenness” and I liked it.

May the gods be sentimentally emotional with us…

  1. Literally translated, it could be said ’emotional aridity’ in English.

Michelle, ma belle…

What would I do if I had in front of me such a gorgeous lady like this, looking and smiling at me this way?

I would just fade out while trying my best to hide my embarassment…

Michelle Pfeiffer

May all the gods in heaven and hell be with you…

If It Be Your Will

When one is suffering is when one needs to rise his/her eyes up to the skies and seek a superior being who will be able to save him/her. This is a basic need of human beings when going through spiritual and/or material miserable situations. This is the basement for religion. This is religion.

As part of mankind, we really don’t trust much on our club’s members. When things run well we all are very much each other friendly. When they don’t, we need a god. How glassy we are. How particle sized we are. How chicken we are. How little things we are. Aren’t we? If I were god, I would laugh like hell on humans and would have fun with them. A lot! In my opinion, we would do not deserve any respect from any of the thousand gods we invented, if they’d exist!

I could say “God does not exist” but I won’t. As an atheist, I feel no pleasure at all defending my position as a non believer, if the definition of atheism drives us to the practice of not believing in a particular god. Actually, I have my own gods. Otherwise it would not make any sense to end my many posts here with the phrase “May the gods be with us” or similar. What I never do is rising my eyes to the skies when things go wrong. My gods do not live upstairs. This means that I am an atheist only for those believing that their god lives upstairs. Nevertheless, if theism is to accept the existence of gods, then I am not an atheist. I have created my own gods a couple of years ago and since then I am in peace with them. Barely, I am in peace with humans. My problem, I know…

My gods are comparable with the famous kid’s invisible friend. I talk to them but I don’t pray to them. They talk to me but they do not command me or threaten me. They do not accept to be called when I feel in danger but they don’t mind when I take their name in vain. They love my sentence “May the gods be with you” because they appreciate very much any advertising action where they are included. They let me use them as the hole we all, humans, need to have to stick our head in when we, on our own, get into shitty situations. They do not require I build up golden temples and they would really kill me if by any chance I would run any kind of sacred or holy war. They really are omnipotent and omnipresent. They don’t give a damn when I behave like an atheist and they mock of me when I get lost between the concepts of atheism and agnosticism or between the atheistic and agnostic behavior. Actually, I get very much in an undetermined position between not believing in god and not knowing exactly if I should or should not believe. On other words, I might be sometimes an agnostic atheist, other an agnostic theist, because even my gods sometimes are, sometimes not.

So, what to do, when we are stuck in a shitty situation where nobody can help us, not even ourselves, and we don’t believe in god (or gods)? Its precisely for not finding an answer to a problematic question like this one that every man and woman rather take as unarguable, undebatable, the existence of a God. Comfortable. Easy. Peaceful. When we are very much inline with pretty much everybody around us, we shorten the way to happiness. So, from then on, for the moments in life when around us everything seems to be falling down, we just say “if it be Your will” and it’s done. We don’t even argue about what was the cause and the effect because we simply believe. There is no religion without faith. We believe because we have faith or, if you prefer, we have faith because we believe.

Leonard Cohen is still one of my favorites. The voice, the lyrics, the sound, the attitude, the looking and the thoughts do please me. It does not mean I agree to everything he is or he represents. For instance, the song here below was composed when he was in a shitty situation and is very much “please, God, help me” oriented. The guy singing in this video clip is not Leonard Cohen. He is Antony Hegarty and he represents one of my indestructible life walls: the one that stops me of understanding homosexuality. I don’t believe in homosexuality but I accept its existence. As in many other situations in life, I coexist with things I am not able or I don’t wish to understand. Putting together a weak moment of a gentleman like Leonard Cohen and a strong performance of a man I don’t understand, sounds good to me. For me, religion and homosexuality are a hell of a thing sharing a common point: I don’t waste time arguing with anyone about them.

May the gods be with us on these broken hills…

In English

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will.

Em Português

Se é o teu desejo
Que eu não fale mais
E minha voz ainda seja
O que era antes
Não mais vou falar
Ficarei mudo até
Me deixares fazê-lo
Se é esse o teu desejo

Se é o teu desejo
Que uma voz seja verdade
Sobre este calvário
Eu cantarei para ti
E deste calvário
Todas as tuas preces se ouvirão
Se é o teu desejo
Deixar-me cantar
E deste calvário
Todas as tuas preces se ouvirão
Se é o teu desejo
Deixar-me cantar

Se for esse o teu desejo
Se houver escolha
Deixa os rios encherem
E as colinas rejubilarem
Deixa a tua misericórdia transbordar
Sobre todos os corações a arder no inferno
Se é o teu desejo
Fazer-nos bem

E chamar-nos para perto
E abraçar-nos com força
Todos os teus filhos aqui
Nos seus trapos resplandecentes
Nos nossos trapos resplandecentes
Todos vestidos para matar
E acabar com esta noite
Se é esse o teu desejo

Se é o teu desejo.

by Leonard Cohen
If It Be Your Will, in Various Positions, © 1984
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.

Jabberwocky

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
Used as a jingle for nRP´s program “Celtic, British & Irish Music”.
Free 4 You: “Jabberwocky”, Steve Broughton ( download to be played on Winamp )

He & She in the past tense (The Toilet).

SHE – You left the toilet seat in the upright position again.
HE – Have I?
SHE – Yes, I just told you have!
HE – Are you sure it was I?
SHE – Who else could be, can you tell me?
HE – You !!
SHE – Come on, don’t start…
HE – Start what?
SHE – Your usual evasions, it’s what it is.
HE – How come? How couldn’t have been you?
SHE – Maybe because I am a woman?
HE – So what?
SHE – So what??? Come on…
HE – Yes, so what? Can’t women lift a toilet seat too? Huh?
SHE – Poor little boy, so funny he is! Now women stand up to pee…
HE – I didn’t say that, did I?
SHE – Yes you did.
HE – No I didn’t! Now it’s you evading…
SHE – How come? How could have I put the seat up? I need it exactly to be down, damn it.
HE – Hey, hey, don’t start swearing!
SHE – I have not sworn!
HE – Yes you have.
SHE – No, I haven’t. And stop behaving like a child.
HE – Oh, now I am behaving like a child.
SHE – Of course you are, can’t you see?
HE – See, I haven’t. But I heard…
SHE – For Christ sake, you heard what?
HE – You swearing…
SHE – Stop! Stop! Don’t think you’re in the pub talking to your friends…
HE – Ho, ho, hold your horses there !! What the hell do you mean? Are you saying I am drunk?
SHE – No, not today, I guess…
HE – You guess? You guess??? I spent the whole day with you! Did you see me drinking, you holy grace?
SHE – How can I know? I am not watching you all the time, am I?
HE – Yes you are, oh yes if you are…
SHE – What do you mean with “oh yes if you are”?
HE – I mean exactly “oh yes if you are”, that’s what I mean!
SHE – I heard what you said! No need to repeat… I am not deaf!
HE – Well, sometimes you seem to be!
SHE – Now, he started with offenses!!
HE – I am not offending you, lady…
SHE – Yes you are.
HE – No, I am not.
SHE – You said I am deaf.
HE – Yeah? And you said I am a drunk.
SHE – I did not say you’re a drunk.
HE – Yes, you did.
SHE – No, I didn’t! I just told you not to talk to me as you talk to your friends in the pub.
HE – Oh really? And how your majesty can know how I talk to my lads in the pub?
SHE – Easy to know!
HE – Is it, oh mighty goddess? I never saw you there to know how do I chat in the pub!
SHE – I wouldn’t ever go there, even if you’d invite me.
HE – I am not talking about that, am I?
SHE – Yes you are, talking about your favorite subject: pubs!
HE – Oh really? I don’t remember to be the first using the word “pub”, was I?
SHE – Oh, you’re childish! Men never grow up…
HE – Really? Do women? What a grown thing you are, lady! Starting a fight just because you saw the toilet seat up…
SHE – I saw it up because you left it up.
HE – Have I?
SHE – Yes, I just told you have!
HE – Are you sure it was I?
SHE – Who else could be, can you tell me?
HE – You !!
SHE – Come on, don’t start…
HE – Start what?
SHE – damn it! I am sick of this. I am going to my mom’s.
HE – Oh, the mom’s house! So original! Little girl is gonna cry to her mom’s…
SHE – You suck !
HE – Yes, I will be sucking a couple of beers in the pub.
SHE – No wonder…
HE – I will be back here when you have no more tears to drop on your mom’s lap, poor little thing.
SHE – You suck (while she shuts the door behind her).

Who Is She?

I could say I know her. But I don’t. I could say she asked me to photograph her. She didn’t. I could say I asked her to take her photo. I didn’t. I could say I behaved bad stealing her image. I guess I didn’t because she saw me pointing to her my old *istDL Pentax with a 18-55mm Pentax lens[1], she looked at me, she gave a very beautiful smile, she moved her eyes down and she let me zooming her in, focusing and finally shooting.

Who is she?

I took a couple of seconds to take this shot, while she kept that air full of inner peace, seated on that aged wall from that old castle in Óbidos, Portugal. Then I just moved away without even checking, at that moment, the result of the work of the ostensible paparazzo I was. Well, being honest, while moving away, my mind was still frozen in that scene when she smiled and moved her eyes down as she was saying “Ok, go on, shoot! I don’t mind.”.

Who is she?

It’s her smile and apparent tranquility I still keep alive from that October 21st, 2011. Because, the photo itself, it’s just a bad photo taken by an eternal beginner.

Who is she?

  1. With this lens I must be very close to my photo object.

Reset

It might be considered “hard” if we switch off, then on, the main power. It might be considered “soft” if we leave everything under power while we put to its original state every single variable in the process on discussion. Whether hard or soft, a reset is always something causing a great impact, sometimes good, sometimes bad. Sometimes might be close to a suicide if the process we are talking about is the human mind.

A reset in one’s life is a very complex and problematic action. Very few feel strong enough to proceed with an action which will drive every life variable to its original state. Well, I do believe that we cannot ever put all variables to its original state when speaking about human lives. What we can do, and sometimes there is no other alternative, is to put some life variables, the most relevant, to its original state and restart from there. Even so, it’s tough and may drive the poor soul trying it to a philosophical chaos out of what may not be possible to come.

You cannot stand what I’ve become,
you much prefer the gentleman I was before.
I was so easy to defeat, I was so easy to control,
I didn’t even know there was a war.[1]

There is time to be full of energy but stupid. There is time to be full of wisdom while almost empty of energy. There is time to have time. There is time when time is not time enough. No matter what, we start living our own little wars since the very moment when our mind is ready to process the good and the bad, the right and the left, the north and the south, the man and the woman, the white and the black, the theism and the atheism, the love and the hate, the life and the death. We’re young while energetic, we’re old when flaccid.

Getting older with dignity is tough. Too tough! Recommendable but condemned to miscarriage. In any case, maybe we should start defining “dignity” but that would carry us on an endless and useless discussion. Anyhow, I have chosen senescence with dignity. It hurts like hell. It brings atrocious pains deep into our bones. Try it and you will easily understand the actual lack of dignity in millions of humans lives.

There is a war between the rich and poor,
a war between the man and the woman.
There is a war between the left and right,
a war between the black and white,
a war between the odd and the even.[2]

Reset accomplished! Emptiness. Silence. Looking around… Nothing moves! Oooh, there’s nothing around me to move or be moved. An entire life built on sand castles, I should say. Too many whipped egg whites. This is not good! This is awkward. Very! Mainly when the time you still have to live it is much less than what you have already lived. Where are the friends? Where is family? Where am I?[3]

Vila de Caminha, Portugal

Existential crisis might work sometimes in one’s life but I do not recommend it, at all, to anyone. Life is much easier when you are so busy that your favorite and very often repeated phrase starts with “I don’t have time for…”. Professionally speaking, those who frequently use such phrase are the ones very unable to organize themselves. Efficiency is not for everybody. The world is full of people never having time for nothing. Those are the eternal complainers about the injustice of having all the load in the world being dropped over them. The bad part of being like that is the fact they will never go very up in their professional career or social life. The good part of being an eternal victim of injustice is the fact that those will pass through life without using more than 2% of their brain. Existential crisis never happens to those people. Portuguese, for instance, love to behave like victims…

Loneliness might be the inevitable state reached after a life reset[4]. There’s nothing solid, consistent, behind me. Nevertheless, past is past! Let’s not shed tears over past mistakes. I have a few regrets but I have also this attitude of looking forward. There is much to fix. Stepping forward, of course, like one of the most important women in my life used to do under worse conditions. I must prove I am one of those using more than 2% of their brain. Even if not much more…

I shall be released…

  1. From “There Is a War” in “New Skin For The Old Ceremony” by Leonard Cohen, 1974.
  2. Same as footnote 1.
  3. Following photo shows river Minho, between Spain and Portugal (Caminha, north of Portugal). I have a very big sentimental connection to Caminha, a very singular and beautiful village in North of Portugal, since I was a teenager.
  4. It’s why today I classify my post Solitude Standing deprecated.