Para ti, de quem só tenho milagres, sonhos, e esperança.

(Sullivan) 1990

I'm going to kiss the girls, make them cry
Live too fast, still not die - before I get old
I'm going to see you raised above this place
Watch the moments shine upon your face
Before I get old
I'll watch the sun set over every sea
From every city wall, every mountain peak
Before I get old
The Northern Lights and the Southern Cross
The harvests and the miles of dust
And the blowing wind across the world
So wrap this coat around yourself
And leave what's done behind
There's so much left for us to do
And yet there's so little time
I'm going to pull the fences to the ground
Watch the twisted towers come crumbling down
And start again
I want to be a hero and a villain and a father and a son
Take care of my body and abuse it still
Until everything goes numb
So let's make this dance and never fear
That there's any real reason why we're all here
Live real fast, still not die
Before I get old


Cromos, série IV

Rafael Leonidas Trujillo Molina (October 24, 1891–May 30, 1961) was the head of state of the Dominican Republic from 1930 until 1961, occupying the office of President of the Republic in 1930–38 and 1942–52. At the end of his final term, he engineered his continued rule of the country as de facto head of state, or dictator. Trujillo was commonly nicknamed, by the country's citizens, "El Chivo" ("the Goat," it being a promiscuous animal) in allusion to his many adulterous relationships.

During the United States occupation (1916–1924), Trujillo joined the National Guard, trained by the United States Marines to maintain order after the occupation. Quickly rising to high rank, Trujillo overthrew President Horacio Vásquez in 1930. After a devastating hurricane destroyed much of Santo Domingo, Trujillo devised a rebuilding plan to modernize the city, which he renamed Ciudad Trujillo (Trujillo City). He also renamed the highest point of the country Pico Trujillo (Trujillo Peak) after himself. Statues of himself were everywhere in the Republic. Trujillo used his political control to obtain great personal wealth. He achieved support from the United States by becoming one of Latin America's leading anti-communists.

He ruled with absolute authority. Until his demise, Dominican schoolchildren recited daily prayers for "God, country, and Trujillo," many households were required to post plaques professing allegiance to the official state party, Partido Dominicano, and travel by Dominicans within their country was surveiled or prohibited. His secret police (SIM, for Military Intelligence Service) jailed, tortured, or killed any opposition.

Trujillo's first wife, Aminta Ledesma, came from his hometown and they married in 1913. They had two children; one died early, and one was a daughter named Flor de Oro. He divorced her to marry a more socially acceptable woman, Bienvenida Ricardo, of a provincial aristocratic family. In 1937 he divorced again (his wife then being pregnant with a girl, who would be named Odette); his third wife was María Martínez, the daughter of Spanish immigrants. María bore him three children: sons Ramfis and Rhadamés, named after characters in Aida, and daughter Angelita. Trujillo was well-known for his adulterous affairs; for instance, he had a rather controversial one with Lina Lovatón Pittaluga, an upper-class debutante, just after marrying Martínez.


When you pray in silence
And see our Jesus stagger
Awake! Take a perfumed candle
And use life like a dagger
I'm your accidental protege
The gift, the blood
The thrownaway
The silver chain has broken?
Goals and dreams fulfill
With emptiness with instinct
With impurity and will
I'm your accidental protege
The grave, the love
The yesterday
In this, my year of three winters
Where orchards fade, fade
And fall
Like loaf of love's
New bake
Fallen, beautiful, adored?
I'm your accidental protege
The gift, the blood
The thrownaway
I though I found a paradise
But, paradise came and wept
Like the wind through the
Winter's woods
It cowed and took a breath
I'm your accidental protege
The grave, the love
The yesterday



Capa e álbum do ano.

I've been watching you up in the corner
Watching you from down below
I've watching you dance in the shadows
Watching you I'm falling to pieces

And when everything that you do loses beauty
When everything's taboo and unkind
And the only thing you ever dream of is sharpening knives
Sharpening knives

I've been watching you up in the corner
Watching you from down below
I've watching you dance in the darkness
Watching you I'm falling to pieces

And when everything that you do loses beauty
When everything's taboo and unkind
And the only thing you ever dream of is sharpening knives
Sharpening knives

Sharpening knives [x4]

Sharpening knives (I've been watching you...) [x8]

And when everything that you do loses beauty
When everything's taboo and unkind
And the only thing you ever dream of is sharpening knives
Sharpening knives

Sharpening knives (I've been watching you...)
I've been watching you
Ana, sim, tu, Gwen, a rodar Death in June, discografia completa, ouve com afinco.
andre says:
ou decimus brutus
Lord of Morning says:
so dois nao, pa
Lord of Morning says:
decimus brutus medianoctis
Lord of Morning says:
quincunx sulla nox
andre says:
decimus brutus medianoctis regicidius
Lord of Morning says:
brutus regicidius cum tempus compensta
Lord of Morning says:
Lord of Morning says:
et mons perennius proscritae traversa
Lord of Morning says:
laudate laudate diminutum rex!
andre says:
filis filis brutus crassus errare
Lord of Morning says:
quosque tandem
Lord of Morning says:
insani omnibus sunt
Lord of Morning says:
Lord of Morning says:
andre says:
andre says:
Lord of Morning says:
Lord of Morning says:
andre says:
Lord of Morning says:
cum baldis ad excrementia, ta frio
andre says:
verius coldus
andre says:
estus morningae
Lord of Morning says:
caldum vertis in topo pyra minor, avec panis
Lord of Morning says:
esta merda eh de chorar!
andre says:
et circensis
Lord of Morning says:
andre says:
in strpius clubis dopos
andre says:
pinius matronis
Lord of Morning says:
donec eris felix, multos numerabilis amicos
katatonia aeterna d'apres unglaublich pints of malt
andre says:
brius alternis
Lord of Morning says:
pintodecostis per capra aurea enrabadus!
andre says:
multos numerabilis vasus di vinus
andre says:
Carolinae dignat matronis
andre says:
vadus laborare
Lord of Morning says:
ui! ui! multissimo faecunda in mamas potentissimas


(Sullivan) 1986

When they look back at us and they write down their history
What will they say about our generation?
We're the ones who knew everything and still we did nothing
Harvested everything, planted nothing.
Well we live pretty well in the wake of the goldrush
Floating in comfort on waves of our apathy
Quietly gnawing away at Her body
Until we mortgage the future, bury our children
Storehouses full with the fruits we've been given
We send off the scrag-ends to suckle the starving
But still we can't feed this strange hunger inside
Greedy, restless and unsatisfied.

I was never much one for the great "Big Bang" theory
Going out in a blaze of suicidal glory
Not foolish and brave, these leaders of ours
Just stupid and petty, unworthy of power;
Just a little leak here and a small error there
Another square mile poisoned forever
A series of sad and pathetic little fizzles
And out go the lights, never to return.
The affair it is over, the passion is dead
She stares at us now with ice in Her eyes
But we turn away from these bitter reproaches
And take up distractions to forget what we're doing

I stand on these hills and I watch Her at night
A thousands square miles, a million orange lights
Wounded and scarred, She lies silent in pain
Raped and betrayed in the cold acid rain
And I wish and I wish
We could start over again
Yes I wish and I wish
We could win back Her love once again


Now, as I had a look at you
it took a heartbeat and I knew
that the candle of my life was burning shorter.
You turned me 'round to face myself,
to make me trust in what I am,
now, after all that I have done it makes me wonder I'm around.

Now the night has gone, better days to come.
All this time I have been afraid, it is not too late...

All this time while we talked my thoughts collided.
All this time I could have seen but I was blind.
All this time...

I thought I'd never see the day
that in myself I'd feel this way.
We are the meaning and we know. Forever different - the same.

Now the night has gone, better days to come.
All this time I have strained my mind, waiting for a sign.

Time is like a river that is running out to sea.
We can't touch the ground, so grab a blade of straw.
If you swim on waves of trust you cannot even drown,
when you hit the shores of love you cannot die...

Morreu o Mário.


so now what
wine in my bloodstream
and you all over the place
cinderella station mishap
no deeper thing in life
switching off both worlds
in a triangle of bookstore miseries
lou singing and ten alders in gales
a little shelter
just a little helper to get us by
lonely synchronicity planetoid lovers
brother wolf to christmastime malls
now what?
entangle my gold mine fast
wake me up on fourth child bloom.




I'm the King of Fire, I am Anger, I am Pain

I am Savage in my Fury, I'm the World beneath your feet

Fools revere your Master, thoughts of War you will disarm

I'm the Nightmare with the Aegis and I will not be denied


Harpies of no Morals, hands awash in ravaged lives

Witness your Perdition as you writhe... in AGONY AND SHAME!


Bursting from the sidelines, locked in firmly now

I am Power and Dominion and I will not be denied

Don't provoke this Quarrel, Thunder Roars inside

I will leave you to the Vultures stripped of all your sickly


Tyrant of our Sorrow, coward towards the deed

(With your) Stolen bands of Courage, now Assault the Skies


Don't tempt me!


Gods of War, Gods of our Ancient Might

Give me Power to tame the Savage of the Blood

Gods of War, Gods of our Painful Fight

Give me Power to break the Savage of the Blood


Father Zeus, Lord of the Stars that shine

Where's the answer that runs from above

Show me your Sign, what will I find

Eminence and Vision, Treasure, Balance, Pride...



"FIGHT ME... I'll be avenged for this"


Life alone or Life as One

Faith in Heaven is Faith in Hell

Prince of Fortune ride, sadness leave our eyes and shine

On all we've Won

I Trust you, I want you, I need you... til the End of Life...

Tragedy. For generations, a curse was suspended above the house of Atreus like a heavy cloud. It was ignited by Tantalus, son of Zeus, a favored one among the gods. He was the only mortal allowed to dine with the gods on Mount Olympus, a privilege not to be taken lightly. However, Tantalus’ appreciation of this privilege was appalling. He took advantage of the gods by stealing their nectar and sharing the secrets he was told with other mortals. Nonetheless, his worst act was far more tragic. This act was the killing of his own son.

Tantalus, arrogant as he was, hated the gods and wanted to test the wisdom of the Olympian deities. He thus invited them to his house for an abundant feast. For the main dish, Tantalus had his son, Pelops, killed and cooked in a stew. Why would Tantalus commit such an act? His motive was to expose the gods as cannibals and reveal his own wisdom. Ignorant of Tantalus’ plan the gods arrived at the banquet and sat patiently, waiting for the food to be served. When the deities set eyes on the plates of food they knew at once what was before them and they were horrified, all, that is, except Demeter. Inasmuch as she was grieving for her daughter, she was oblivious to Tantalus’ acts, and unconsciously ate some of the meat—Pelops’ shoulder.

The gods were outraged by this inhumane joke and as proper punishment for him, Zeus exiled his son to Tartarus where he would suffer forever. In Tartarus, the fruit grew rich and abundant, but each time Tantalus would move to take a bite from one of the fruits the wind would blow the sweet treats away. When he quenched for thirst, reaching down to the clear refreshing spring water to drink, it vanished. Thus, he remained here for an eternity.

In the meantime, the gods brought Pelops back to life again, but they could not restore his shoulder. Therefore, the deities replaced it with a piece of ivory.

Putting aside this devastating event, Pelops was the one descendant of Tantalus who escaped the curse. However, Pelops’ sons were not so lucky.

Pelops married Hippodamia, and they had two sons, Atreus and Thyestes. In turn, Atreus married Aerope, daughter of King Catreus of Crete, and fathered two sons, Agamemnon and Menelaus. Somewhere along the way, however, Aerope had fallen in love with Atreus’ brother, Thyestes, and when Atreus found out about the affair he was furious. Consequently in revenge, Atreus went hunting for his nephews, and in the same way as his grandfather had, slaughtered them and boiled their bodies in a stew. He then deviously invited his brother to dinner and served him his own children as a meal. When Thyestes had completed his meal, Atreus presented his brother with the heads and hands of his children. Thyestes thereupon fled Mycenae. Although his two sons had been slain, Thyestes had one more son—a son who was not killed and eaten. This young man’s name was Aegisthus. And the rest is history.

Well, not quite. Atreus’ horrific acts against Thyestes were not avenged during Atreus’ lifetime, but years later. Aegisthus did not allow his father or brothers to go dishonored. His revenge was obtained many years later through Atreus’ son, Agamemnon...

Vês o puzzle? Uma pessoa que nasce com a benção e o fardo de ler a vida, os bastidores e as cordas por cima das marionetas. E de repente uma mão pequena e ágil que escreve, numa letra rapidíssima e tão delineada, o teu nome, o meu, números, definições esdrúxulas, sonhos de um tamanho superior ao do armário da cozinha que um dia já não reserva quasiquer segredos. E eu sei que tu sabes que eu sei que tu és, e que vês e que amas... na forma como tu amas reside o vértice do meu desejo, o reino dos destemidos, a zona eterna entre ficar e partir, o fio como cantava aquele que entretanto se vendeu, como tantos outros. Hoje já não faço mais nada - espero que chegues bem, recorda-me ainda uma vez quem somos.
(Adam McNaughtan)

When the yellow's on the broom
When the yellow's on the broom
I'll tak' ye on the road again
When the yellow's on the broom

I ken ye dinna like it, lass, tae winter here in toon
For the scaldies aye miscry us and they try tae put us doon
But it's hard to raise three bairns in a single flea-box room
So I'll tak' ye on the road again when yellow's on the broom

The scaldies call us 'tinker dirt' and strike our bairns in school
Who cares what a scaldy thinks a scaldy's just a fool
He never hears the yorlin's song nor sees the flax in bloom
For they're a' cooped up in hooses when the yellow's on the broom

No sale for pegs or baskets so just to stay alive
We have tae work at scaldy jobs from nine o'clock till five
But we call no man our master for we own the world's room
And we'll bid fareweel tae Brechin when the yellow's on the broom

I'm weary for the springtime tae tak' the road yince mair
For the plantin' and the pearlin' and the berry fields of Blair
We'll meet up wi' oor kinfolk from a' the country roon'
When the ganaboot folk tak' the road and the yellow's on the broom

to peter who is alive, derek who will always be, and to you my songbook of new belief.


you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're young,whatever life you wear

it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love

whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time

that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance

- e.e. cummings

(beijo, kits)


Clairvoyance, again

Ontem desde as 16 que pressenti que tinha lá na outra casa, como aliás pressentia dantes, uma carta registada para levantar.

E tinha. Por acaso são esgotos de 1998 duma casa que já não é minha desde esse ano, mas enfim, com juros de mora. A questão agora é outra.

Depois sonhei coma expressão "camarada, amigo, palhaço" que o meu colega Peter Oswaldt tanto usava. E hoje leio um post do Calvin no blog da Kitty com essa expressão, mutatis mutandis.

Para arrumar a loja, ontem meti umas moedas no bolso e sem espanto constatei que eram 3,40, ou seja, 2,10 para o comboio mais 1,30 para o metro. Certinhos. E isto melhora com a idade. Desde puto que me lembro de me acontecerem coisas destas.

Viver no abstracto

Passageiros de aviões aconselhados a apresentar receitas médicas em inglês ou francês
09.11.2006 - 09h10 Lusa

O Instituto Nacional de Aviação Civil recomenda aos passageiros que levem as suas receitas ou declarações médicas escritas em inglês ou em francês, se precisarem de de transportar medicamentos líquidos na cabina dos aviões.

A sugestão do Instituto Nacional de Aviação Civil (INAC) insere-se no âmbito das novas regras de segurança na aviação civil.

"Dependendo do país para onde se vá viajar, é recomendável que o atestado médico, ou a receita médica, seja, também, escrita em inglês ou francês", salienta o INAC.

Isto porque todos os medicamentos que se encontrem em estado líquido e que não possam ser transportados na bagagem de porão só poderão seguir na cabina se forem acompanhados por um atestado ou declaração médica, esclareceu o INAC numa nota divulgada ontem.

Nos casos em que a receita médica fica na farmácia, o INAC aconselha os passageiros a solicitarem ao médico que passe um atestado ou que fotocopiem previamente a receita.

No caso dos medicamentos injectáveis, é necessário "solicitar ao INAC, através de email, carta, fax, ou em mão, uma autorização especial para transporte da seringa e do medicamento a injectar como bagagem de cabina, apresentando para o efeito um atestado médico que comprove que o passageiro necessita do medicamento, assim como, mencionar o número do voo, data, companhia aérea, destino e identificação do passageiro", esclarece o instituto.

Os medicamentos sólidos, como comprimidos e pastilhas, não têm restrições nem requerem qualquer prescrição/atestado médico ou prova, acrescenta o INAC.



life on other planets is difficult.
e ver nascer o dia
oh, la la la no corpo
traz-me o ultimo copo
miguel, e a cadeira
quanta pontes como esta
disse quanta
de luz
de cor e teoria
ponta de nuvem aberta
nos gomos do copo soez
quanta ravina contaste
antecipando os pilares,
ainda uma construção
e um corpo nos restos do dia
hawaii, mumbai
atira-te ao rio para gáudio da ponte
dos tropeçados num qualquer prego
mal parido e no sítio errado
em boa hora
o estado da nação é estacionário
sem reservas de 82 nem atraso
três dias de atraso
da tua ausência cega
não recolho um travo a suor
a transportes
estima bem o teu lugar de garagem.
sempre é verdade, amiga
bem haja ao manuel
da tua vertical ausência
faremos o campo limite
as casas ao som da ti luísa
cartazes colados com a fé dos bons
sobre o verniz, amor, não edifico
as traves de uma oficina
encafuada no corno mais remoto
do bairro das colónias
vem-te ao ego? nos tempos vivos
(quando o pina tinha cabelo)
na fila para a micro sonhavas
como tu sonhavas um dia
largar os parâmetros velhos
como achavas, amiga,
que das ancas ao verniz são dois dedos de testa
a extrusão da esplanada vernal
e não leste, contudo, o thomas
(faço-te um manguito enfrascado
ao rir velando o ataúde de mais uma tia)
o teu bote há-de ser sempre o teu bote
e é penalty
vela-me ao menos a úlcera e leva o lixo ao sair.

A cremação estava prevista
para o início da tarde.
(Ao fundo, o Tejo,
o vasto fedor dos vivos.)

Mais do que o Requiem,
voltar a ver a fotografia
em que segurava o cão e sorria.
Ainda me mordeu algumas
vezes, o Sancho;
agora não existe
-e o Sérgio também não.

Pequeninas caveiras,
esculpidas nos anos vinte,
vigiavam soberanamente
a falta de jeito dos vivos:
tosse, palavras ocas,
furtivos cigarros. Talvez
a nossa única vocação
seja mesmo morrer.

Cidade real,
lixo das quimeras todas,
não ouças uma voz que não existe.

-Manuel de Freitas


A Song

Goe, and catche a falling starre,
Get with child a mandrake roote,
Tell me, where all past yeares are,
Or who cleft the Divels foot,
Teach me to heare Mermaides singing,
Or to keep off envies stinging,
And finde
What winde
Serves to advance an honest minde.

If thou beest borne to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand daies and nights,
Till age snow white haires on thee,
Thou, when thou retorn'st, wilt tell mee
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And sweare
No where
Lives a woman true, and faire.

If thou findst one, let mee know,
Such a Pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet doe not, I would not goe,
Though at next doore wee might meet,
Though shee were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet shee
Will bee
False, ere I come, to two, or three.

(John Donne)

Reduzidos à expressão mais simples somos todos grãos de pó.


Kalan Gaeaf

This is a time recorded on no candle or water-clock. This is the time of Kalan Gaeaf or Samhain as it is known to some. On this day the veil between our world and the next grows thin and the souls of the dead may cross back over the Bridge and enter our world.

In the field Arawn, Lord of Annwn, ventures out and the blackberries and haws wither under His breath. In Cymrija, the floors are swept clean and fire kindled in the chance that one of the fae, the Tylwydd Têg should happen by. For this is the night the Dark Court ascends and one is well advised not invite the malicious plots of the Unseelie.

On this night the Lord of the Realm is beholden to offer shelter and good faith to all that call upon him that eve. For on Nos Kalan Gaeaf, the Wyld Hunt rides abroad. The terrible creatures of this other worldly game ensare all who get in its way. It is said you run with the hunt or become the hunted.

Ah, repetindo, repetindo:

Possessive love arrives,
it locks the door behind it
and settles in forever,
always predictable.

Love arrives,
it leaves its luggage
by the door,
in case worse comes to worst,
but it still undresses.

Passion arrives, first it lights
a hundred candles, then pulls
the door off its hinges and
breaks the windows.
Leaves everything, everything
to the care of the wind.

-Tommy Tabermann

I will show you a way
that I have travelled.

If you come
If you come back some day
searching for me

do you see how everything shifts
a little every moment
and becomes less pretentious
and more primitive
(like pictures drawn by children
or early forms of life:
the soul's alphabet)

you will come to a warm region
it is soft and hazy
but then I will no longer be me,
but the forest.

-Arvo Turtianen
Return To Serenity
[Music: Peterson]
[Lyrics: Billy, James, Peterson]

I'm gonna take you
To a place far from here
No one will see us
Watch the pain as it disappears
No time for anger
No time for despair
Won't you come with me
There's a room for us there
This innocent beauty
My words can't describe
This rebirth purity
Brings a sullen tear right to your eyes
No time for anger
No time for despair
Please let me take you
'cause I'm already there

I'm so alone
My head's my home
I'll return to serenity

Rhyme without reason is why children cry
They see through the system
That's breeding them just so they die
So please let me take you
And I'll show you the truth
Inside my reality
We shared in youth

I'm so alone
My head's my home
And I feel
So alone
You know
At last
I'll return to serenity

Now that I've taken you
To a place far from here
I really must go back
Close your eyes and we'll disappear
Won't you come with me
Salvation we'll share
Inside of my head now
There's a room for us there

arvaamaton pienikiinostavakirja :D


ENFJ - "Persuader". Outstanding leader of groups. Can be aggressive at helping others to be the best that they can be. 2.5% of total population.

Main type

Enneagram Test Results
Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||||| 50%
Type 2 Helpfulness |||||| 30%
Type 3 Image Awareness |||||||||||||| 56%
Type 4 Sensitivity |||||||||||||||| 63%
Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||||||| 73%
Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||||||||| 80%
Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||| 50%
Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||| 80%
Type 9 Calmness |||||||||| 33%
Your main type is 6
Your variant is self pres


nao tenho aqui um megafone
onde está um berbequim quando é preciso?
às 13:30 tenho que me ir... sera que aguento teclar para o espelho ate la?
era uma vez um rinoceronte azul
que vivia no delta do okavango
e tinha um consultorio onde exercia a profissao de quiropratico
com a escassez de clientes, emigrou para o enclave muçulmano do nagorno-karabakh
(usando o funicular que desde 2098 ligava a tanzania à peninsula de kamchtaka)
malditas teclas
na viagem conheceu dois soldados servio-montenegrinos que tocavam polkas num tamborim de pele genuina a quatro maos
e tocavam em ré menor de quinta aumentada, modo mixolidiano
la la la
e uma volta por baixo
la la la
ad aeternum
assim que acordou do enésimo sono, foi até ao bar e pediu um sg gigante com lima
the waitress was remarkably well-endowed and as he gaped at such a buxom wench in the middle of siberia, he could not help but to drop his jaw wide open
pronto, nao estas ai
bom almoço [smile]

aina, suomalainen


a capela à bruma que desce
comendo os dias sim dos teus
e asas infantes e lâmina aberta
ossadas ungidas na lápide
cruciforme dos avós-chão
sonho inseguro
âmbar em torno dos meus
e a névoa súbita abraça
a tua boca e cinzas
e a majestade esquecida
à mesa de um funeral no bosque.
the hunter

with tribe counted by armfuls
chestnut after chestnut after
daytime in earthenware words
lavender hills and bluegreen hands
after chestnut after chestnut
rain-clad women and silent men
the hunters
stolid, elemental archives of beauty
readily derelict gargoyle-like motes
and one more armful
chest to chest to chest
kneeling to moisty mother provider
after and after and after
a hunter a-huddling inside
our chestnut shells
to be gathered.


Xiça. O telemóvel apagou-se. Apagou-se, trancou, e tive que fazer reset. Quando religou, religou sem pedir pin. Serei eu? Será de não ter escrito o terceiro poema? De ter amarrotado mentalmente trinta e sete folhas (sem IVA) enquanto me atirava a uma short-story pela primeira vez em ano e meio? Abraços a quem comentou.
Aconteceu aqui uma coisa que não devia ter acontecido.

Estava a ouvir um DVD. Ouvi-o todo. Quando acabou, abri o tabuleiro e... vinha vazio.


O DVD ficou lá dentro. OK, na boa. Abri o leitor tirando a tampa. O DVD estava de facto encravado acima do motor e debaixo da tampa.


Agora está novamente a funcionar.

Fiquei um bocado lívido.



Secretário de Estado culpa consumidores pelo aumento do preço da electricidade
18.10.2006 - 09h24 Lusa

O secretário de Estado Adjunto da Indústria e da Inovação, António Castro Guerra, afirmou hoje que a culpa do aumento de 15,7 por cento no preço da electricidade em 2007 é dos consumidores, porque "este défice tem de ser pago por quem o gerou".

Até este ano, a lei impedia uma actualização dos preços acima da inflação, o que deu origem a um défice tarifário que, na opinião de Castro Guerra, "só pode ser imputado aos consumidores".

"São os consumidores que devem este dinheiro. Não é mais ninguém", declarou o governante à rádio TSF. "Este défice tem de ser pago por quem o gerou", disse ainda Castro Guerra.

De acordo com as contas do secretário de Estado Adjunto da Indústria e da Inovação, o défice vai ser recuperado num prazo de três a cinco anos.

Apesar de ter admitido que o aumento do preço é elevado, Castro Guerra afirmou que "os custos são os custos".

Questionado sobre o facto de o aumento para as empresas ser menor, o responsável referiu que "isso tem um fundamento". "As empresas estão a competir no mercado e nós não podemos por razões de energia reduzir a competitividade das empresas e mesmo assim já é um aumento substancial", explicou.

António Castro Guerra lembrou que os aumentos são da exclusiva competência da Entidade Reguladora do Sector Energético, mas admitiu que "no futuro o Governo pode criar mecanismos que evitem aumentos tão elevados".

Sobre o mesmo assunto, o ministro da Economia, Manuel Pinho, afirmou ao "Diário de Notícias" que "o Governo está a analisar a situação".

Não faltará quem diga, atendo-se a complexos de culpa por existir, que o sacrifício faz parte do caminho para a humildade e dignifica, tal como o trabalho, quem procura o seu lugar no mundo de hoje.

Eu digo que por este caminho é que o mundo chegou ao que é hoje, e que de humildade já tenho a minha conta, perante valores que não devem nada à forma humana.

E ainda sou capaz de dizer que está uma ventania do caraças aqui e em P'yongyang.


I am the hearing that is attainable to everything;
I am the speech that cannot be grasped.
I am the name of the sound
and the sound of the name.
I am the sign of the letter
and the designation of the division.
(Sullivan) 1992

Through the years of decay we walk like tigers in cages
With each passing turn the smaller and smaller the circles
Every weapon and word legitimate now as protection
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken

I stand undefeated alone in the ring just pacing
The sweat and the blood dried on my hands all wasted
I'm shouting "come back and fight for I am the king"
But the lights are all out and the people are gone
We always burned brightest when no one was watching
Now I kiss the lines on your beautiful face
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken

And sometimes your hunger for life seems like desperation
And when I read about the world these days all I can feel is hatred
The fortune teller is closing her doors
She looked into the crystal and saw nothing at all
They're waiting round here for something to happen
They won't really want it when it rolls out to greet them
But these things should never be spoken
These things should never be spoken


Primeiro jantar na vida nova. Ver o nascer da lua, monte após monte. As palmeiras e as árvores centenárias ao vento. A varanda. As luzes ao longe, vermelhas, amarelas, azuis, uma verde aqui e ali. O calor do vale nas paredes - outra vez as paredes da casa, do berço.

Já tenho alunos para começar. Terça-feira recomeço também a correr. Há um, talvez dois ou três projectos porreiros à espreita. Sem pressas? Não, nem tudo. Uma aldeia casmurra resiste ainda e sempre ao invasor ;)

Primeiro jantar. Com a luz ténue e difusa por trás, aposto que as janelas da sala ficam com um ar acolhedor para quem olha do largo em frente.
"See if you can catch yourself complaining in either speech or thought, about a situation you find yourself in, what other people do or say, your surroundings, your life situation, even the weather. To complain is always nonacceptance of what is. It invariably carries an unconscious negative charge. When you complain, you make yourself a victim. Leave the situation or accept it. All else is madness."

Thanx, Oceanspirit :)


Cromos, III série

Leiam o discurso deste rapaz no Porto de Abrigo.

Site oficial: http://www.alopresidente.gob.ve/

El Aló Presidente número 262 se trasladó a tierras andinas, específicamente a Boconó, estado Trujillo.

El Primer Mandatario Nacional, incrustado en las montañas cafetaleras de la antigua Hacienda San Houston inició el programa dominical.

03_cafe_dsc_2463 Con la recuperación de estas tierras, por parte del Gobierno Revolucionario, se pretende seguir la guerra contra el feudalismo y entregar a los venezolanos agricultores estas tierras productivas.

Ahora esta hacienda, convertida en Unidad de Producción Socialista Centro Integral de Café “Argimiro Gabaldón”, tiene como meta incrementar la producción de estos terrenos a 3 mil quintales de café para igualar el record histórico de la finca, y mantenerlo.
En la actualidad cuenta con 90 mil plantas de café, que produjeron en el último año 800 quintales.

Cabe destacar, que en esta Unidad de Producción Socialista se producen 7 variedades de café: Borbones Caturra, Catagüi Amarillo, Catagüi Rojo, Festival, Colombia 27 y una variedad que es exclusiva de Boconó, la cual aún no posee denominación.

El Centro Integral de Café Argimiro Gabaldón, funcionará como una escuela para la formación en el proceso técnico-productivo del cultivo de café y como centro para el desarrollo del turismo.

De volta às capas atordoantes.

Escape velocity

It's done at long last. Eleven years minus a few days, ups and eastwesthighs and lows, several thousand million dollars in the fire and I'm out of it. Full compensation, no hassle, an indemnity letter to get proper social security funding for a year and a half as of next week. Farewell to the raving corporate hordes of hysterical blonde and discoloured bimboes vibrating through every pore like lunatic sledgehammers on every occasion of a merger, acquisition or cocktail party. Farewell to asphyxia and tremors, farewell to the feeling of one dawn too much. I have many a sequence of events to thank to the totalities. Footprints in the sand.


(Sullivan) 1984

This is our town, this is Friday night
Dressed in our rags and our rage and our best
Piercing eyes looking for something - anything, anyone.
Stare across the floor as they begin to dance
Missing all the rhythms and the chosen right steps
And we laugh and we drink in our corner again
We're better than them
Divided we were born, divided we live
Divided we fall, divided we die
Still we tell ourselves over and over again
We're better than them
With our hunger and our hatred, we all walk this town
With our fear and our weakness - just holding on
With our doubt and our emptiness and this cold, cold frown
We've got to be so important, we'll put the whole damn world down
And we build the walls that we can hide behind
And our finest weapon is our poisoned pride
Here in this town where the jealousies burn
We're watching you
'Cause truth is only what we need it to be
To bring us survival through each and every day
When nowhere is safe and nowhere is home - just be cool
And what was she wearing and what did he say?
Who goes with who and what did they do?
We tell ourselves over and over again
We're better than them , we're not like them

And back again

Voltei a casa, não como se nunca tivesse saído daqui, mas com a vida inteira por toda a parte da cabeça aos pés, com a chuva e os relâmpagos e os fogos de Verão nas colinas por detrás da igreja e da escola, dos prédios novos. Mais 15 dias. Carro na oficina, distribuição, pior altura possível, como sempre. Tem o seu nexo :)


ANYONE please don't expect any news before Sep 7. Mail, SMS or phone call only :) Then I would be good... :)
Milenne, Selene, Abilene. Light, Night, Sight. Two, One, Three.
Netless at the moment! Sorry for any inconvenience or temporary denial of service :) We'll be back shortly.

I saw a dog, wanted to pet the dog, felt the stones, the steps, homeward bound, heartfelt wood, saplings, boughs and branches, tripped the movie, drank the dram.

Okay, cybercafé countdown tango. Scent of a keyboard. Old Al.

Halfway done.



Ten euro on the fact that he was offside ;)

Oh yeah! Famous last views from a bus!

And along came...

Okay, at this stage, just ourselves, the missing travel agent, an apparent 40 degrees at midnight, 10 spent bottles of water, 14 hours in transit and the mad cabbie.

Now then.

Here, it was still our tightly packed twoness, the bus square with its hawking honking horns and yummy turkish slices o'cake, and streets. Pratt-Maltese streets. Deep Valetta. No rules, great driving, good shoes.

Anya. I hope you find everything you hope for during your 3 weeks in Valetta, and even more when you're back to Odessa. Say, don't you think this is a bit weird even for a supposedly architectonic masterpiece-wise flash rebound? Mdina, the silent city.

The Aussie lady with five kids on the bus back from Bugibba. The pic was taken outside Rabat where a 4-yo taught us, in english, how to hike past the city walls. That's why I thought of you. Fly safe back to Sydney.

And then came Wonneke and Dick. Sorry, man, if I got it wrong - my dutch apprehension ain't what it used to be ;) Here's to the countless foes who surely have fallen by the Victoria citadel gates and its "blessed" cannons - I guess fanaticism isn't picky about race or creed... I'm mailing you smt as I write this, thanks guys! Looking forward to extended conversations :)

The temples, at Hagar Qim, Ggantija and on the way to Marsaxlokk. Where we met two german girls whose address has only a name, and an also german couple (hey man! the Tornado won't go out of service yet!) all of whom we expect to see again soon!

Then the uncountable hordes (yeah, you half-Irish plastering-dude and the sangria lady with bolognese skills and also the eight-fold maturity brigade downing John Bulls) of the quarter-of-an-hour chats.

And airport staff (no, no MLA, sorry 'bout that one...) and Cpt Duque and...

Man, am I tired.

I won't comment on any subjective, objective, or expletive aspect of the whole trip. BE Maltese, then be NOT Maltese again. Then apply that rule to all your ventures and escapades - or even "work" jumps.

Things are there to help you cope with passing years, still.



The One True Ring
Posts: 5252
Location: Yes
Posted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 9:55 pm

If a single "victor" would have to come out, I would much rather live under the premises of a hebrew, "westernalized" or even corporate country, than bowing to mass obscurantists who send kids to madrasahs and kick women for showing an ankle.

Don't tell me about minorities, *we* are the minority as we can perceive by whomever has been elected in *our* and *their* countries alike. The fanatics, here and there, rule.

Thing is, I'm not gonna blow Hasan's house if he draws a cartoon of George Bush having it up his ass. Hasan just might for Muhammad.


Father's Eyes staring in the Blackness of the Morning
Mother cries echoing the Shadows of the Sunrise...
There you stood arms cloaked in Darkness where the Shades have gone
Wave goodbye to all that you know and all you'll ever be
Where will I run, the Faces are so cold
How will I Rule with Arms against the Sky
Where will I go when all has been disowned
Lord of this World, leave my Soul alone
Troy is Burning, say Farewell (HAIL)
Light the Fire of a Thousand Days (WAR)
Pain and Slaughter, even Gods can lie
WHEN THE LEGENDS DIE... cry like Rain...
Steal the Wind, gather all the Evening's Suns so blind
Where's your Soul forged in the Mist of Dawn in time will rise
To Damn the Gods this is no Illusion there are Ways to bear, my share
To Kill them all, Blacker than a Thousand Vows when Water Rises
How will I run, the Faces are so cold
How can I stand Eyes against the Night
Where will I go when all is said and done
I leave it behind, Graces of the World
Kill the Father, Kill the Son (HAIL)
Kill each other work is done (WAR)
Pain is nothing, even Gods can Lie
Oh, I will not Rise again you know
Oh, I will be Torn on Bloody Ground!
How will I run, the Faces are so cold
How will I race Clouds against the Sky
I am Burning say Farewell (HAIL)
Light the Fire of a Thousand Lives (WAR)
Pain and Slaughter, even Gods will Lie


The Muspilli is one of but two surviving pieces of Old High German epic poetry (the other being the Hildebrandslied), dating to ca. 870.

One large fragment of the text has survived in the margins and empty pages of a codex marked as the possession of Louis the German and now in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek (cim. 14098). The beginning and end of the poem have not come down on us. It was re-discovered in 1817 and first published in 1832 by Johann Andreas Schmeller, who also titled it Muspilli, after a central word in the text.

The etymology and meaning of the term Muspilli (a hapax legomenon) is uncertain, but it is surmised to describe some sort of cataclysmic end of the world in fire (ekpyrosis). The poem is an example of early Germanic Christianity, combining pagan elements with the Biblical or Christian concepts, featuring Elijah, the Antichrist and the Last Judgement.

Grau (1908) connects all of the material in the poem except for two verses to the 4th century theologian Ephraim the Syrian.

The focus of the text is first on the fate of the soul after death. The hosts of heaven and hell do battle over the deceased individual's soul and the winning party will carry it off as booty (v. 1-37). Attention then shifts to another battle, the battle between Elijah and the Antichrist, which the text says will precede the Last Judgement. The two combatants are fighting as championsGod and the Devil, respectively. The Antichrist will fall but Elijah will be wounded and his blood dripping on the Earth will set the world on fire – announcing the muspilli (v. 38-56). The rest of the poem is concerned with the Resurrection and Judgment Day itself (v.57-103). for

Verses 44-54:

der antichristo stet pi demo altfiant,
stet pi demo Satanase, der inan uarsenkan scal:
pidiu scal er in deru uuicsteti uunt piuallan
enti in demo sinde sigalos uuerdan.
doh uuanit des uilo ... gotmanno,
daz Elias in demo uuige aruuartit uuerde.
so daz Eliases pluot in erda kitriufit,
so inprinnant die perga, poum ni kistentit
enihc in erdu, aha artruknent,
muor varsuuilhit sih, suilizot lougiu der himil,
mano uallit, prinnit mittilagart,

"The Antichrist stands with the old fiend,

With the Satan, whom he will ruin:
On the battlefield, he falls wounded
And in battle without victory
But many men of God ween
That Elijah will be wounded in that battle,
When the blood of Elijah drips onto the soil
The mountains will burn, no tree will stand,
Not any on earth, water dries up,
Sea is swallowed, flaming burn the heavens,
Moon falls, Midgard burns"


Lord of Morning says:
tinha um colega na primaria com esse nome. idilio de jesus. nao era ilidio, recordo-me bem.
Lord of Morning says:
o irmao, o paulo vicente, era o melhor guarda-redes
Lord of Morning says:
nao porque fosse agil ou forte.
Lord of Morning says:
mas porque nem que tivesse que esfolar os olhos, ia a todas.
Lord of Morning says:
queriamos sempre o paulo vicente.
Lord of Morning says:
era giro que eles e os mota ricardo estivessem a ler isto agora. e o aroeira e o pedro matos da silva.