May 29, 2010 § Leave a comment
“You don’t recognize the biggest day of your life, not until you’re right in the middle of it. The day you commit to something or someone. The day you get your heart broken. The day you meet your soul mate. The day you realize there’s not enough time, because you wanna live forever. Those are the biggest days. The perfect days.”
Life is short and we don’t live forever. People come and go. People get older and die. You will get older and die. People move, people change. You move, you change.
It doesn’t matter your beliefs, religion or spiritual inclination, at the end of the day this existence with these people at this time, it only happens once. Enjoy all the moments, both good and bad. Make the most of it.
Say “I love you”, if you want to. Watch that silly movie you adore but doesn’t admit to anyone. Dance as if you were Madonna (even if you’re a guy). Kiss if the moment says to kiss. Hug if the moment says to hug. Measure your actions because they’ll have reactions.
Don’t fight for stupid reasons. Listen to music while watching the rain fall. Sit in the park with your friends on a lazy sunny day. Get married, but only if YOU want to. Treat yourself with food that will make you fat. Travel, alone or with someone else. Have children, but only if you can guarantee you’ll give everything for them.
Don’t stop doing things because there’s no one else to go with you or because you’ll look foolish. All the great moments I had involved a foolish behaviour.
Embrace randomness. Accept that you can’t control everything and make the most out of coincidences. Maybe there’s a God, or something out there and coincidences are part of his plan. Maybe coincidences are just coincidences.
My point is that you should remember you are going to die eventually. Maybe early, maybe late. Maybe you’re immortal and doesn’t know it yet.
And of course life is hard. If it was that easy people would complain it is far to easy.
Be merry and enjoy the little things, like a hot chocolate after a very cold and wet day. There might not be enough time to do everything you want to do (and trust me, I know that if I were ever to read and watch all the movies I want to, I’d need 500 years), but there’s just enough time to do the best you can.
May 9, 2010 § Leave a comment
Had Mrs Mumford known how that would turn out, she wouldn’t have had bought that rare and overpriced oak shelf. Then, again, if she hadn’t bought it, this story would probably not have happened the way it did.
Therefore, we can’t really blame the bird who planted the seed of that oak tree about two hundred years ago. Nor the lumberjack that chopped the tree down for Woods & Thuds Ltd., who then exported from South America to Indiana, US.
When in American soil, we can’t really blame the furniture firm that used such wood to built the book shelf. Not only that, but we can’t blame the young lady who wanted to buy the same book shelf, but couldn’t afford it because she had just been fired from her job due to the fact that she had been accused of sleeping with her boss. Although, it wasn’t true but her boss resented that she didn’t want to sleep with him. We could maybe try to blame the seller, who being a very manipulative one and good at his job, stole Mrs Mumford from his colleague who was trying to sell her a more affordable book shelf, because he had to ‘answer a phone call, but would be right back’.
The said seller, called Paul Smith, had actually called the store and asked for Mr John Petrov since it was a matter of urgency. Mr John Petrov being the gentleman who was assisting Mrs Mumford on her search for a book shelf. Paul did that so that he could convince Mrs Mumford to buy the overpriced oak shelf – the same one the young lady couldn’t afford – because his commission would be exorbitant.
After that, Mrs Mumford would agree, the next to blame was the delivery company, who had sent a ‘suspicious young man’ – according to Mrs Mumford, to deliver the book shelf in her house.
She, on her own rights and trying to protect her precious valuables in the house, had asked him to leave the same book shelf in the living room so that he didn’t have an excuse to perambulate around her house.
Obviously, Mrs Mumford had pointed out, the middle of the living room isn’t the best place for a book shelf. In addition to that, she also had only those ‘nasty, rude and dis-likable’ neighbours , whom Mrs Mumford didn’t trust, not even when asking for help to move the book shelf to her library – previously the basement.
Even though Mrs Mumford – ‘please call me Alice’ – according to her – was a woman of 65 years-old, her body strength and physical structure were quite impressive for her age. Alice, since she insists – decided then to take down her book shelf to the library by herself. The stair to the basement consisted of 17 steps. Alice took only a few minutes to get to the 9th step, but her arms started failing her and with the help of a lump in the carpet, her shoe got stuck in the 10th step. Suddenly and rather painfully, her left ankle twisted, making her loose her balance for a split second. Well, that split second was really more than enough for all the weight and all her effort to be felt on her arms.
Mrs Mumford fell. In fact, the book shelf fell first. It fell and hit a table. A marble table, actually. This impact made the book shelf loosen up one of its sides, a rather sharp one, that by an unfortunate strike of bad luck, was in the exact place where Mrs Mumford’s chest hit.
Therefore, Alice’s lovely green dress, made of 100% cotton, was perforated, along with her left lung, a bit of the right one and her heart – which many people had claimed she didn’t have.
That was enough. Maybe if she had been 20 years younger or if someone had called an ambulance instantly, she might – a BIG might – have survived. That wasn’t the case.
Mrs Mumford body was only discovered 4 days later, when her neighbour stopped by to complain – again – that Mrs Mumford cat was attacking her flowers.
Alice Mumford died alone. As we all do, undoubtedly. No one would know that the last image before her eyes was of her living room, nicely decorated in a Victorian style with chiffon cushions, an Egyptian cotton curtain, several porcelain vases and the huge portrait on top of the fireplace of Mr Mumford wearing his best suit – the navy blue one, with a stripped tie.
Her life didn’t flash before her eyes. Alice refused to be one of these nostalgic old people who spend their final years savoring all their memories. She had always been practical and quite proud of it.
Now, on her last breath, the thought that came to her mind wasn’t of the meaning of life, or how much she loved her children, not it was that of her regrets. Her last thought was: ‘I bet they’re going to attack this house as a bunch of scavengers.’ Then, she died.
They did attack the house as a bunch of scavengers. They, in this sentence, is not only her neighbours, but also her older son and her two daughters. Alice knew that her daughter-in-law would taker her porcelain collection and so she did. Her daughters actually fought for the Egyptian curtains and the mahogany bed.
Mary Jane, the youngest daughter, took Mr Mumford portrait. She tucked it in the attic, never to be seen again.
May 6, 2010 § Leave a comment
Vi Tropa de Elite pela primeira vez depois de anos do hype.
Me indigna os filhinhos de papai que assistem e continuam fumando sua maconhazinha e cheirando sua cocaina. Vai crescer e aprender a lidar com teus problemas que nem gente.
Esse comportamento fudido de filhinho de papai perdido na vida que ajuda a patrocinar o trafico. Parabens!
E nao me venha com teu discurso existencialista sobre a agonia da realidade humana e de rumos e futuro. A nossa geracao eh a mais confortavel e com menos problemas que ja existiu, provavelmente. A grande maioria de jovens, especialmente os de classe media e acima, nunca foram enviados para outros paises pra lutar por uma causa pela qual eles nao tem certeza.
Desafio alguem a me dar um argumento em favor disso. Alias, me deem um argumento em favor do uso de drogas (Medicinal nao conta como desculpa pra estudante de Direito que acende um baseado enquanto a Mae faz a janta na cozinha).
Sim, sim, o corpo eh teu. Tu pode fazer o que tu fucking quiser com ele, mas a partir de quando as tuas escolhas alimentam um dos maiores problemas do Brasil (e nao soh), a tua liberdade de acao esta destruindo a vida de muita gente e quem tira proveito disso eh soh teu traficante.
E eu sei que por dizer isso, muitos amigos meus vao ficar indignados e talvez ate ofendidos. Sinceramente, se eu te consegui fazer pensar um pouco nisso, ja tenho um ponto ao meu favor. Sem contar que se tu realmente eh meu amigo(a), sabe que eu nao me importo de expressar minhas opinioes mesmo que eu seja a unica que acredita nelas.
Obs.: Eu discordo do uso de tortura e violencia como justificativa para resolver o problema, ja que toda acao tera uma reacao semelhante e acho que endeuzar o Capitao Nascimento pelas suas atitudes eh incrivelmente errado, visto ele ser um masoquista.