Reveries
In my mind, I keep telling you everything I always wanted to.All the lies that were hidden. All the pain.. But who am I trying to fool? This conversation will never happen. You never cared enough.
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Reveries
In my mind, I keep telling you everything I always wanted to.All the lies that were hidden. All the pain.. But who am I trying to fool? This conversation will never happen. You never cared enough.
Expectation
So I sat down, drank my coffee and felt happy.
Lie.
But at least I could breath.
Just like that
- When did you realize you liked me?
- That day... When you sat by my side and smiled to me.
- But which one? There were millions! - she answered, laughing.
- All of them.
Faith
She stared at herself and she could not recognize what she saw. Her lips were pale, her eyes wide open. Her skin stretched on her bony cheeks. Who was the skinny girl, lying on the floor? Was it supposed to be her? Was it someone else? Would someone come for her? She walked through the bedroom. She doesn't remember eating that cake and leaving half of it over the table. She doesn't remember ripping off the pajamas her aunt once gave her. What was going on? Why did no one come? Oh yes. I told them so. She sat down on the floor, staring at herself again. Her eyes were wide open. The deep brown of it was becoming quite blankly. Was it possible? Was she not dead yet? I thought ghosts only came out when their body was dead. Isn't it so? Her arms reached for herself. She tried to touch her hair, the thing she most hated about herself. Isn't it funny? I used to hate my hair when I was alive, now, seeing it laying on the floor, it doesn't seem that bad. Although it still not matches my eyes. But her hand went through it. Never actually feeling it. Yes, I guess I am a ghost. What happened? What have I done with my life, I wonder. What am I gonna do now that I'm dead? Am I to watch aside as the lives of my family goes by? And their children, and their children, and forever stuck? This seems boring. It seems worse than my life used to be, if that is even possible. A soft sound comes from the kitchen and she stands up, alarmed, as if caught doing something wrong. Oh yeah, I forgot I'm dead. She relaxes and walks to it. There's Sir Von Puk, her cat. She felt her heart weigh as if it had 100 pounds. Dammit. How could I forget you? Who is gonna feed you now? No one likes you, except me. And no one liked me, except you. For the first time, since she saw herself dead, she felt bad. She feels like crying, but the tears never come. Of course not, you're dead. He stops, suddenly. And looks right at her, as if he could see her ghostly form. Oh, I knew you could see ghosts! He meows. I know, I'm sorry for it. You know I couldn't help it. The scars were too deep. He... Well, he nods. Or something like that and continues his search for food. She hears a noise. Not soft paws over the kitchen table, but a person's steps. Is it normal, to be a ghost and have your keen senses? I could never hear such things when I was alive. There was the noise of a key on the kitchen door and it suddenly opens. She looked right at her sister and smiled. I wonder what she'll do when she sees me. Her sister looked at Sir Puk and made a face. She didn't like him, but compared to the rest of the family, she loved as if it was her own. He ignored her, as usual. "Rina!" She called me. I smiled a little more. "Rina, mom asked me to come check you!" Mom? Really? Since when does she care? "God dammit Rin! I don't want to walk in your disgusting apartment! Come on!" Yes, my sister, Pamela was too beautiful, too delicate and too snobbish to walk through a stupid and poor musician who could not do as her and become a great lawyer. Specially when the stupid musician left medical school to play drums with a 37 year old harmony player. Okay, I didn't even love him. But he was a nice guy. Well, at least his mouth was. She finally gave up and entered my living room and looked at the paintings on my wall. She never told me - or anyone, to be honest - but I know she had always been in love with my best friend, Kenny. But Kenny had a few "problems". He wasn't famous, nor rich, neither had a successful career. He was just a painter. "Just". That's so stupid. He was the best painter I've ever seen. But he had a difficult temper and not everyone could understand him. Only me.. And Pam. He loved her as well. He told her. She ignored him and married a CEO. He died the next day, from a car crash. And I hate her for that. She stood over a huge painting - my favourite. It was me, with a flower between my teeth. I was smiling. I was happy. But it was a long time ago. She finally got out of my living room and looked for me in the office. "Rins!" Then, she opened the door to my room. "Oh my god!" She covered her mouth, but the screams came anyway. And she didn't stop, not for once. She fell to the ground, trying to hold herself on my door. I was not smiling anymore. She started crying, and screaming and saying unintelligible words. I could not follow it. I suddenly, somehow, shut the noises off. I was still there, by her side, watching her scream and cry, I saw the old lady Mithern come - my neighbor. I watched her call the ambulance and the police. She held my sister's arm, and forced her to stand up and get away from the bedroom, from the apartment. But still, I could not hear a word. Was there something wrong with me? The ambulance came. They checked my vital signs, but everyone knew I was already dead. The police came right after. Took some photographs, wrote a few notes and left. My body was removed and I could not even say goodbye to it. Damn, I wish I had. Why? I walked back to the kitchen, and found out Pam took Sir Puk with her. I hope she feeds him. I don't want him to die. Isn't it strange? When it comes to your own life, you don't care about it. But when it comes to a loved one.. "You know, she will take care of him" I turn to see Kenny's face. "I thought you were never coming" "I know. But I didn't want you to think I was coming only for your sister" "You killed yourself for her" "I did" "I hate you as well for that. You left me alone. You had no right." "Just like you just left Sir Puke alone?" "Don't call him that" "I never stopped loving you. But you know how artists are. Always so dramatic..." He smiles. "I do" and I turn myself again to my apartment. "Is it okay that I miss this? It's such a mess!" "You're such a mess, and yet, I watched you everyday" "Thank you" He holds my hand. Yes, we are both ghosts but we can touch ourselves. Weird, huh? "What's going to happen now?" "We are going somewhere" "Better? Like Paradise?" He smiles.. "If you make it a Paradise...".
When you wish upon a star...
The day comes. The one you wanted so badly. He stares at her. She is smiling. She asks him "Tell me something new". He looks at her. The moment is there. Lingering. She can hear her heart beating. She just knows what's going to happen. "He actually wants me", as if it would make it true. He answers. The exact way she wanted. And yet... Yet... What is there to like? Her looks? Her smile? Have you ever payed attention to her voice? Is she just a picture to hold on your wallet and show your friends and family? Have you ever actually heard what she has to say? Have you ever cared? She closes her eyes. Her tears falling down her cheeks. And walks away. The Love... Well, that will stay.
Yeah, you can pretty much find art anywhere.
Happy Prise de la Bastille
224 years ago, one of the most (if not, the most) important western revolution "started" (a revolution does not start, it erupts, and the Bastille was mostly a symbol, but whatever). Why is it that we study it in schools? It's been such a long time ago. Why does it matter, anyway? Because the so-called French Revolution showed the rest of the world, and it's a constant reminder that the power is in people's hand. And only. The government may have the army, the riffles and the soldiers. But the people... Oh the people. Go back to 1789, Paris, France. Go back to 14th July of that year. Yes, maybe the people have something a little bit stronger than trained mans. A little thing called desire. The French Revolution was made by the poorest. "Commanded", of course, by the bourgeoisie. The majority had no idea what would come out of it. And yet, they spread the western world values such as "Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité". What does that have to do with anything with us, 2013? Everything. Brazil, Turkey, Egypt.. Each in it's own ways. They are fighting for the same things, of course, in their own contexts. So, next time you go to school, or your child does, and asks you why. Why do we study History? Why do we study events that happened so long ago? Why is it important? Well, the History repeats itself. It's our choice wether we learn from it, or simply ignore it.
DİRENİŠKOROSU: "Duyuyor musun bizi? İÅte çapulcunun sesi" (Do you hear the people sing?) !! Yeni bir yarına... PaylaÅ, PaylaÅtır. Do you hear the people sin...
Absolutely, beautiful!
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Rio de Janeiro
Passagem de ônibus: R$2,95
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Gritar "Fora Sérgio Cabral" na Avenida Presidente Vargas com milhares de outras pessoas: não tem preço. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hahahaahha, I absolutely LOVED this! Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
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Cardboard + pen: US$ 3,00
Shout "Out Sergio Cabral (Rio's governor)" at Avenida Presidente Vargas with thousands of others: no price.
- a joke with mastercard ad in Brazil.
Rio de Janeiro, 06-20-2013 Official numbers says it was about 300,000 people on the street. Others, it was about 1,000,000. Does it matter, for those who were there (even if only in spirit)?
Brazil today - outsider point of view
Many of you may have seen the increase of the protests in Brazil. It is quite surprising how many people left their homes last thursday (06-20-2013), all over the country to protest. I did speak with some brazilian friends. Most of them from Rio de Janeiro. You may all have seen the pictures of police abuse, the videos of people been attacked for nothing. I have friends that were hit by rubber bullet, and they were only screming "no violence". As I watch my friends (and yes, here I am speaking of all brazilians) being so violently repressed by police, I cannot think of anything else but the Dictatorship that lasted 21 yeas (1964-85). Not only me, but brazilians are all very surprised of how police is quite unprepared. They don't know how to act in big manifestations and that is quite obvious. What is not obvious though, is the lead the movement is taking. I am not a politics expert. I do not understand exactly what is going on. How the protests got this big. And from what I've been reading and watching; nor brazilians do. It all started with the 20 cents fare increase. But for those that have been looking for information, we all know that is far from being the only reason. But there is something I cannot understand. I've been to Brazil. And I've seen the poverty, the social difference, the corruption, the poor education and health system. So I ask myself: Why haven't they done this before? Why, have they been so "quiet" (for me, brazilians weren't sleeping at all. They protest about many things, their History is made out of protests and those who cannot see it, chose to do so) for so long? What happened, so they would "wake up"? I don't think we'll know the answers right now. I don't think any article or, thesis or studies will be able to answer it this month. Why the governors, mayors and the president herself waited so long to make a pronouncementt? Why are there so many reports and such about Rio's governor telling the police to act bruttaly to the protesters? Why are there reports about "protesters" breaking government property and police doing nothing? Why are there videos of police officers changing to civilian clothes? Why the BOPE (Special Operations Batallion - the same police that goes to slum's and that fight bandits with rifles) went to last thursday's (06-20-2013) manifestation? I don't know the answers. If someone do, or if have not understood what is really going on there, please help me understand. My friends in Brazil tell me the Right has been growing, that people were shouting "Out Dilma!" (the president), and people were beating others that would hold flags from parties. What is really going on? At first, the protests were against the repression, but many protesters are repressing themselves. I hope I did not offend any brazilian citizen. I love Brazil. I love the fact that you're raising your voices to what you believe, for better education, health and not bowing your heads to FIFA or anyone else. But please, be very careful for what you're fighting for. Be very careful at everything you read and write. You must inform yourselves and understand that many other may try to use the protests against everything you believe. Information is your strongest weapon. Fight for your country, fight for you freedom, fight against repression and fight for the democracy many brazilians have died for.
Fight Brazil!
National Congress, in Brasilia, peacefully taken over by protesters. from Facebook
Beautiful!
*sent by readers* Translator’s note: the text below is the translation of this report, a brave and powerful one from a woman who attended São Paulo demonstrations against the rising of bus fare. It shows one of the many facets of São Paulo police brutality: the misogynistic one. I apologize...
I'm sorry, I don't even have a title for this. Please read.
Change Brazil!
Isn't it funny? When you're in love, no matter which way you look. It's always his/her face you're staring at.