Hell is other people. The human beings tend to lack self-knowledge. We tend to project our worst fears, and our most deeply disliked personal characteristics, onto other people, rather than look inside and face them within ourselves. Thus, when we look at other people we often see the worst of what is in our own personality.

Jean-Paul Sartre

You pretend to buck the system, pretend to be a rebel. You claim to hate rules. But all you do is substitute your own rules for society’s and it’s a nice simple rule. Tell the blunt, honest truth and the starkest, darkest way and what will be, will be. What will be, should be. And everyone else is a coward. But you’re wrong. It’s not cowardly to not call someone an idiot. People aren’t tactful and polite just beacause it’s nice. They do it because they got an ounce of humility. Because they know that they will make mistakes and they know that their actions have consequences and they know that those consequences are their fault. Why do you want so bad not to be human, House?

House M.D.

I flash by, it is a thunder, it is a gentle blow, it comes and it goes.

Another breath, heart beat, blink of an eye. It is a curious thing when you realise you don’t really know what you are doing and why. Even more curious, does this make me happy? A great mess, a cloud of butterflies in a neverending storm piercing through your senses and soul. You don’t know when it is going to end, how or even whether it is going to end.

The hope your very nature offers you. Now. It is the only notion you feel there is a slight possibility of becoming understandable. We need understanble, it is one of the few human needs that is actually not corrupted. Why is that, I wonder. Maybe because it stems from these simple wills that pushes us to live, that fuels us: to know, to experience. One could conclude; well, that then makes us all equal masses. So you discover that faith do is necessary in one’s life; you’ve got to believe we are not. Well, risking a little boring explanation, just because this semantic field has been historically associated to religion as truth and to the scepticism as the opposite of that, it doesn’t mean we can’t humbly revisit it.

Some may call choices. It doesn’t matter, for me it is all types of masks you choose to protect yourself from being naked in the dark. Without beliefs, it is not possible to get a grasp of one true self, of a reason to live by extent. That’s when I tell you that I can’t find a reason to live without reffering to the faith in my choices: a mask. If at least that was enough. Masks were supposed to lift the weight of being someone; mine burn my face. I call it a disease. I maybe be sick or just a normal person with some weird unresting beast in the chest with an appetite for destruction and chaos, for tasting the unhuman therefore the impossible. I might as well take confort in the mission of taming this beast through improving all that goes against its will. I’ll be faithfull and self centered and loathe the choice I’ve made for it goes against the very will that moves my legs along the road to nowhere.

A day older. Every morning now I wake before the alarm. Bad sign that. Never used to be like that. I lie here worrying. What about? ‘Developing certain responsabilities’, says Taffy. The longer I lie here, the worse it gets. I can hear people outside doing things downstairs. Never look worried. Like the ring there on the dot, as usual. Punctuality is a virtue. Get yourself into a deep enough punctual rut, then you don’t have to think so you don’t worry.

Boy and Bycicle, Ridley Scott

“Outro mundo, outro dia, outro amanhecer. O primeiro tênue raio de luz matinal apareceu sem alarde.Muitos bilhões de trilhões de toneladas de núcleos de hidrogênio superaquecidos explodindo se levantam aos poucos sobre o horizonte e conseguira parecer pequenos, frios e ligeiramente úmidos.Há um momento em cada amanhecer no qual a luz parece flutuar e tudo parece mágico. A criação prende a respiração.”
Douglas Adams

“Outro mundo, outro dia, outro amanhecer. O primeiro tênue raio de luz matinal apareceu sem alarde.
Muitos bilhões de trilhões de toneladas de núcleos de hidrogênio superaquecidos explodindo se levantam aos poucos sobre o horizonte e conseguira parecer pequenos, frios e ligeiramente úmidos.
Há um momento em cada amanhecer no qual a luz parece flutuar e tudo parece mágico. A criação prende a respiração.”

Douglas Adams

Source: ninquelen

Originally from cosmic nomad

(via oquemeacompanha)

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Source: fragmentos-soltos

Originally from Sentimentos não são alfabetizados

A chuva continuava a golpear o teto. Dentro da choupana estava quente.
- Mas você sabe que existe um Universo inteiro lá fora! - gritou Zarniwoop. - Você não pode esquivar-se de suas responsabilidades dizendo que elas não existem!
O homem que rege o Universo pensou por um longo tempo enquanto Zarniwoop trepidava de raiva.
- Você tem muita certeza de seus fatos - disse por fim. - Eu não confiaria nos pensamentos de um homem que acha que o Universo, se é que existe um, é algo com o qual se pode contar.
Zarniwoop ainda trepidava, mas estava em silêncio.
- Eu apenas decido sobre o meu Universo - prosseguiu o homem calmamente. - Meu Universo são meus olhos e meus ouvidos. Qualquer coisa fora disso é boato.
- Mas você não crê em nada?
O homem sacudiu os ombros e apanhou seu gato.
- Não entendo o que você quer dizer com isso.
- Você não entende que as coisas que você decide nessa choupana afetam as vidas e os destinos de milhões de pessoas? Isto tudo está monstruosamente errado!
- Não sei. Nunca vi todas essas pessoas de que você fala. E nem você, suspeito. Elas existem apenas nas palavras que ouvimos. É loucura dizer que você sabe o que está acontecendo com as outras pessoas. Só elas sabem, se é que existem. Elas têm seus próprios Universos a partir de seus olhos e ouvidos.
Trillian disse:
- Acho que vou dar uma volta lá fora.
Saiu e foi andar na chuva.

Douglas Adams, 1980.

On the people I’ve been living with for the past all my life.

It’s hard to recognise when something in you is not right let alone accepting a complain from someone about some misbehavior of yours, some mistake you might have made or/and some attitude you had taken that could have hurt or let down someone close to you.

I consider myself the kind of person that, at least most of the times, tries to be that person. The one that analyses his actions and takes into account the risks and consequences of them. It’s always about the balance according to which you choose to live your life. I myself have learnt that sometimes the so called right is just not good enough. 

The point I am trying to make here is about this funny fact about those I’ve been living with for the past all my life. The funny fact is how the relationships on such a long term -not meaning those between friends and lovers- deeply affected my perception of people’s ways of interacting and their reactions to different kinds of situations; still on the social matters. Most important, it has deeply changed myself, turning me into some kind of the watcher of everything I consider flaws and virtues and at the same time assessor of my own attitudes in order to act differently, in order to evolve, to be the person I want to be. Home is each one’s first lab of sociability.

Might seem pretencious and overcritical to some, even after the whole dicourse on how I see things and at times use them to change myself, but I still believe what I am about to say nevertheless. Some people (almost half if not most of them, I dare to say) would do just fine in some kind of “social skills group”. What about being able to recognise their selfishness, control freak character, ever bad mood and lack of tolerance, goodwill, self respect and last but definetely not least patience? No worries, the irony fits just about right.

Well, it seems it took me four paragraphs to “just” express my opinions towards some people’s failure to see others as a person and the urge to be a social creature in a healthy manner. What can I do? That’s the only way I know to let things out.

Watch out! It is what it is. What is about to be, may be or maybe not. What used to be… who cares!

Watch out! It is what it is. What is about to be, may be or maybe not. What used to be… who cares!

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Legion
A legion of escapists we are.Each wielding an unique weapon
Rioting against;Not just inspiring,Breathing and workingGears;
Indignation, chaosAnd nauseous disgust.Bound to survive.Above all, warriors thinkers,warriors actors,believers.

Legion

A legion of escapists we are.
Each wielding an unique weapon

Rioting against;
Not just inspiring,
Breathing and working
Gears;

Indignation, chaos
And nauseous disgust.
Bound to survive.
Above all, warriors thinkers,
warriors actors,
believers.

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[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

If it doesn’t kill you
It will shape you
If it doesn’t break you
It will make you

Dry your eyes
Shed no tears
A healing voice
Caress your ear

Just a dot

Failure was never my intention. It never is.

Whatever effort, we never aim to fail or to be less than what the dreams set for us. It is so complicated when you focus on the problems you have to overcome to be the person you wish to be. Sometimes you are just fine with the state of things even though you have never stopped planning wonderful things.

Planning. Trick-or-treat…

Steps, ways, sights of a better tomorow, bad days and thoughts. Is it possible that some minds are made for just the glimpse of what may come? Outcomes never reached however tangible they might sound when sung over a beautiful symphony of images and pleasant moments.

I know what I must do, I know what symbols to trust, I see the now and its meanings and the tomorow looks so bright. It never is.

Just be. Follow existence.

If the world that we are forced to accept is false and nothing is true, then everything is possible. On the way to discovering what we love, we will find everything we hate, everything that blocks our path to what we desire. The comfort will never be comfortable for those who seek what is not on the market. A systematic questioning of the idea of happiness. We’ll cut the vocal chords of every empowered speaker. We’ll yank the social symbols through the looking glass. We’ll devalue society’s currency. To confront the familiar. Society is a fraud so complete and venal… that it demands to be destroyed beyond the power of memory to recall its existence. Where there’s fire, we will carry gasoline. Interrupt the continuum of everyday experience… and all the normal expectations that go with it. To live as if something actually depended on one’s actions. To rupture the spell of the ideology of the commodified consumer society… so that our oppressed desires of a more authentic nature can come forward. To demonstrate the contrast between what life presently is and what it could be. To immerse ourselves in the oblivion of actions and know we’re making it happen. There will be an intensity never before known in everyday life… to exchange love and hate, life and death, terror and redemption, repulsions and attractions. An affirmation of freedom so reckless and unqualified, that it amounts to a total denial of every kind of restraint and limitation.

Waking Life, 2001


‎”Mutual sight, Mutual soundMutual struggle, for shared groundIt’s safe to try, no need to justifyI’m just another one for them to break downSteeped in denial, the daily grindDream of a world for me and my kindIt’s safe in the alternative realitySo stick your standards where the sun doesn’t shine”

Own Little World, Celldweller

‎”Mutual sight, Mutual sound
Mutual struggle, for shared ground
It’s safe to try, no need to justify
I’m just another one for them to break down
Steeped in denial, the daily grind
Dream of a world for me and my kind
It’s safe in the alternative reality
So stick your standards where the sun doesn’t shine”

Own Little World, Celldweller

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Surge assim um padrão de pensamento e comportamento no qual as ideias, aspirações e objetivos que por seu conteúdo transcendam o universo estabelecido na palavra e na ação – sejam as ideias pacifístas ou influências da filosofia oriental – tenderão a ser repelidos ou reduzidos a termos desse universo: assimilados, integrados, recuperados, quem sabe, tornados inócuos, sem poder transformador.

Suzana Albornoz