Cars, cars, cars...

No que diz respeito ao sexo, homens e mulheres são como motoristas e carros, respectivamente. O motorista liga pra aparência do carro, as linhas de design, o estofado, se o motor tem uma boa resposta, qual o custo-benefício... Já o carro não liga muito pra aparência do motorista, se este tratá-lo bem, apertar os botões certos, na hora certa e na seqüência certa, o carro estará feliz.

Know thy enemy

"The weapon of the enemy is gift. We must use it against him."

 

Palestra interessante sobre como os ateus podem aprender com alguns métodos usados pelas religiões.

Better to reign in hell...

Poema forte. E interpretação primorosa.



"É difícil encontrar quem não queira vender sua alma ao diabo."

Che Vuoi?

Burn, Baby, burn

Esse momento no show do Metallica me inspirou a escrever essa poesia. Eu estava perto de um dos lança-chamas e a sensação de poder e medo que sentia quando eles disparavam a cada vez que se gritava “FIRE!” é difícil de se por em palavras.

FIRE

Once upon a time
Fire was the name of a god
and people cowered awe
upon his presence

And every now and then
when we approach a large bonfire
or something just burst into flames near us
our instincts remind us

And we get caught empty staring
our eyes lost in the fire
and the fire burning in our eyes
fear and attraction living together

The flames you see today
are but minor shades
sparks of his power
they lead you to believe he’s tamed

But nothing could be farther from the truth
he constantly watches us from his fiery throne
he demands sacrifice
and his hunger knows no bounds

So, we’d better follow the flames
and dance, and burn, bright and high
for it pleases Fire, the god

We’re all destined to ashes
but ‘till then we’re fire
and we can choose how to burn

Over troubled waters

Communicating is like building bridges. Have you ever tried to build one? It's really hard! It's not just a plank over a stream, it demands planning and engineering skills... and lots of hard work. As far as communicating you can build bridges with words, looks, gestures... and paying attention, don't forget to pay attention! Well, I didn't make your live easier, but at least now you know what it takes. Oh, and think twice before burning any bridges.

Like a prayer

 Este é um trecho do livro Grapes of Wrath, de John Steinbeck, que eu achei belissímo.
A cena é de uma delicadeza!

“I ain’t a preacher,” he said softly. “My prayers ain’t no good.”
She moistened her lips. “I was there when the ol’ man died. You said one then.”
“It wasn’t no prayer.”
“It was a prayer,” she said.
“It wasn’t no preacher’s prayer,”
“It was a good prayer. I want you should say one for me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
She closed her eyes for a minute and then opened them again. “Then say one to yourself. Don’t use no words to it. That’d be awright.”
“I got no God,” he said.
“You got a God. Don’t make no difference if you don’t know what he looks like.” The preacher bowed his head. She watched him apprehensively. And when he raised his head again she looked relieved. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s what I needed. Somebody close enough – to pray.”

Dedicado à minha amiga Regina.

When you look at the Abyss...

Between what I think and what I say there is an abyss of jokes, retorts, declarations, speeches, rage, love, tears (of both love and rage), threats, excuses, lustful proposals, regrets and other unnamed feelings/thoughts that I cannot begin to fathom.