Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Copying and pasting...

Copying and pasting... Wait a minute! I'm not depressed, I just felt like publishing this text. Click here and you'll see the source.

This was found on a bathroom wall somewhere in the U.S.A....

"You've taken over my mind. You've raped my thoughts with your image viruses then sold me fake cures for your own disease. Your words and pictures scream orders at me like angry prison wardens. When I cover my ears, your voices echo in my head. I hate you. When I see your billboards, your talk shows, your rock concerts and your factories, when I see the work of your twisted libidos, I want to kill you. I want to set fires, plant bombs, derail trains. I want to smash your buildings and tear at your bodies until the skin of my hands is worn to the bone. I am filled with a rage that burns my eyes.

I don't want to feel this way. You have done this to me. These feelings are the fruits of your multi-billion dollar sowing. And I am not alone. There are others like me out here. Every suicide, every madman, every man and woman who gets a gun and just starts shooting -- these are your illegitimate children. They don't all know what they are doing. All they know is hate for the invisible walls which you have raised around them, hate for the narrow path you have tried to make them walk. And the innocent pay in blood for your negligence.

Remember this: My mind is big. The more you try to push me down and make me small, the greater the pressure inside me becomes. The greater the pressure, the greater the chance of an explosion. There was once a time when I felt love, but now I feel only hate and anger, and fear at what I might do. And you can tell me to "BE HAPPY," but I know that you really mean "BE QUIET".

Believe me, I want to be happy. You stand in my way."


Saturday, March 25, 2006

blogging on best comments ever

I might have a thorough sense of metalinguistics awareness for being this inquisitive individual when it comes to language. Since child, I used to correct folks around me when they'd mispronounce or give wrong punctuations. I also used to make up list of words that sounded funny to my ears. Old-fashioned verbs and adjectives were present in my vocabulary since those early years. (They have been still.) When I got into music, I'd wildly critize and judge others' "bad" taste for music. When I had figured out I'd become a writer, I thought I should study journalism ahead of that, so that I'd be able to review my own writings... maybe (?)! I guess that is why I was once called 'philosopher' by my great friend Marcele -- I can't stop this awareness in me.

This post will be my web chance to show this so-called ability in me. I've decided to start a compilation of the best comments on my blogspot of all times. I will also come up with comments on these top-hit comments. I've been blessed during these last two years because I have really gotten a few avid and regular readers. The best part is that they leave a trace. These readers leave behind sometimes a piece of furniture, a jewel, even a whole property in the exchange of words: THE PAWNSHOP. There wouldn't ever be a better title for this blog. Best comments - or complaints - I've ever received, here they come:

@BULB'S:
bulb wrote...
I couldn't sell my ass in a gaybar. But then....... I look awful in a suit.
p.s. Im back.
5:18 PM

This was a comment on a post about my salesrepresentative phobia. Besides being a very understanding Bulb's testimonial, it was him announcing his return on the blogsphere. Double delight. Thanks Bulb for being ever present in my spot.

@SAUCY'S:
Saucy Monk wrote...
well put into words.
you sound kinda serious though.
you a serious person?

That was comment on a short attempt of abstract nonsense poetry of mine. What amuses me about this comment is the whole contradicting idea Saucy had got about me. No, Saucy. I am not a serious person. I have nothing serious in me. I know that my blog template and some of my mad posts can scare the hell out of people, but I can't be serious. In fact, my finger tips melt every time I start typing humorless words. Believe me, I tend to scrape the still-molten remainings of them off the computer keyboard, place them in a mold and after some minutes of freezer, they're back on their normal human functions. Gotta be careful though, I'm almost running out of the tips - the best part - like Chandler, in FRIENDS, once said.

@FINEARTIST'S:
fineartist wrote...
Photographs at a funeral, marvelous idea! Original and funny as heck, I like the way you think. I immediately began seeing people shuffling around the room with combs and mirrors primping for the snaps. They could hire professional photographers…..
Professional photographer: “Next, who’s next?”
Mourning family member: “I think Aunt Martha is next. Where is she? Oh, Auntie there you are, come, come, it’s your turn to pose with the deceased, hurry up.”
Aunt Martha: “Why? He’s not going anywhere is he?”
However, candids would be amazing, since every family seems to have one, or several goof balls who like to wait till someone falls asleep, mess them all up in various manners, and take pics of them.
Mourning family member: “Okay, who was the wise guy who put lipstick, false eye lashes, and a brassiere on Uncle Harold? And, somebody get over there and remove that piece of sausage from his fly.”
--I am enjoying your blog.
1:57 AM

I have this strange habit of listing random thoughts, so this post was one of those in which I wrote about how I imagine my funeral. Lori exquisitely added details on it. I could only crack at her rich imaginative follow-up of my listing. Love you, Lori.

@WRITERMOM'S:
Writer Mom wrote...
You hilarious nut job!
11:45 PM

This was the shortest and the best comment on my blog by Angeline. This lady really understands me. It was published on this post in which I listed 'ten truths about me.' Yep... those were tough words. I'm glad I have fully recovered from that little outbreak. Let me tell you all, it is never easy to hold farts back, imagine yourselves a person having to keep so many secrets about her personality. I just had to let them out. If you guys haven't read that post yet, you oughtta. Ange, your precious comments are and will always be welcome on this poor and humble blogspot.

@RAIN'S:
Rain wrote...
I want one too! A hello kitty lap top is too expensive, so I'll get the toaster.
9:27 PM

Cathy has chosen a wonderful blognickname: RAIN. I love when it rains. It is actually raining right now and that is probably why I got inspired to start this post. That was Rain's comment on my post where I announce my Christmas wish-gift. I wounded up getting a regular plain white toaster and a cheap stuffed Hello Kitty. I loved the presents I got anyway. It's truly fun to have Rain's comments on my spot. We get connected vibes so many times that we often post similar topic entries simultaneously. It's huge to have her around. "Sorry, for having missed your b-day... I really didn't know about it!"

@GABE'S:
Gabe wrote...
That was positively awesome. I honestly consider it an instant classic. (May I repost it on my blog?)!Y Feliz Cumpleanos mi amiga!
May the best of your past be the worst of your future.
2:35 AM

No one had ever mentioned that a poem of mine would become a classic. That was awfully good to read. Gabe had that insight about a poem I wrote on my 30-year-old birthday. Having those words coming from this amazing writer can only enhance my spirit.

CURIOSITY FACT: I've been thirsty for books. So, my sporadic updates here will continue being sporadic.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Un conejo musical de Índias

I've been very busy lately because of excess of classes, I have started two new blogs as well, and I have been also involved in some other stuff that I'd rather not mention on this post. In short, I'm overwhelmed - I have not been able to blog on blogger which I have missed a lot since it is my favorite kind of fun. In contrast, I have listened to music like a freak. Internet is a blessing for that, "good gracious"! Music's played an important role in my life, especially when I was teenager. To me, music is essential to fill in the hollow parts of all walls in every place of our souls. I believe that people who don't listen to music may have greater difficulties at expressing love, hate, anger, despisal, approval, friendship, anxiety...

I don't make music - I wish though. I am no musician at all. I just have a list of some of my favorite artists whom I believe can release true material. I won't mention their names because my taste for music is irrelevant. However, when it comes to music, i can say that I normally get my attention caught by artists that write what they sing and play. My first contact with music was pretty much contradicting and therefore very peculiar. The albums I could find home were Dad's. I used to listen to Bob Dylan, John Denver, The Beatles, Elvis Presley, Creedence Clearwater Revival, ABBA, Carpenters, Joan Baez, and others I could name here forever.

Surprisingly, I got to enjoy classical music too, but from television. When I was a kid, I used to watch this classical piano performances TV show that would be aired on a public broadcast channel in Brazil every Sunday (it is still aired). That show was hosted by a famous classical Brazilian pianist and because of his talent and 'carisma', I got totally infatuated by the instrument and not only did I feel like learning how to play it, but also becoming a real pianist. By the age of 9, I convinced mom to get me a private piano teacher and a Fritz Dobbert piano. I got the teacher, but I never had the piano; it would've been way expensive for my family to afford it back then.

Two years later, I started attending a conservatory where we were mostly girls wearing down-on-the-knees pleated navy blue skirts, tall white socks, and black shoes. There, I'd spend at least one entire afternoon per week taking Introduction to Band and Conducting Techniques, Music Theory, Flute, Piano lessons (of course), and Choire Practices. I had been studying at that conservatory for almost 6 years when I decided that going to college was more important to me.

I really thought I was going to graduate in music, but I gave it up just like that. Literature and movies took over me. By that time, in the early 90's, I had more CD's than vynil albums in my house shelves. I listened to grunge, punk rock, hardcore, trash metal and too little of Brazilian music. I was never motivated to hear Brazilian music at home. Maybe because my dad is an ESL teacher and nuts about American music and culture. He and mom were most of the time listening to British and American musicians around me.

I care for music a lot but I may not be that music affectionate in the sense that I go after the musician's biography before I buy a CD. I used to be this way, perhaps, but nowadays not anymore. If I like what I hear, I'll simply get it. Then, I listen to it as many times as I think it is possible to play a CD. I play it over and over until my stomach gets sick. I'm worse than pop radio stations or MTV. Well... you know what? Giving some thought to it, those media are worse than my style of listening to music. They are more terrible for sure because they play and replay what they want people to listen to. It's brainwash. We are forced to hear, as a consequence enjoy, and inevitably buy whatever powerful record labels rule. I confess that I get to know many of the musicians I now listen to through these media - especially via internet - but... come on... not everything out there is possible to be heard.

Neverthless, radio stations and MTV play some songs so many, but so many, times that even if I had had a slight chance of being fond of those musicians, it would have been nulified. Playing repetitively songs simply don't work for me. In fact, I get the fully opposite feeling: REPULSE. There are certain tunes that every time I hear their first chords, I either turn off the TV or radio by launching my sneakers towards the device, or I pull the plug cord in a devilish way. I really do that sometimes and I get those weird thoughts like: "Get the hell out of here... My earlobes ain't toilet bowls." I'll list a few tracks here so that you, fellow blog readers, can have some idea of what I'm writing about:

Spin Doctors - Two Princess(aie aie aie)
"One, two, princess*** kneel before you
(that’s what I said, now)
Princes, princess who adore you
(just go ahead, now)
One has diamonds in his pockets
(that sounds great, now)
This one, said he wants to buy you lockets
(ain’t in his head, now)
This one, he got a princely racket
(that’s what I said, now)"
***note - wtf is that??? singing about princess or calling someone like that... who does that?

Counting Crows - Mr. Jones
"Sha*** la la la la la la..... hmm, uh huh...
I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with a black-haired flamenco dancer
She dances while his father plays guitar
She's suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
Man I wish I was beautiful
So come dance this silence down through the mornin'
Sha la la la la la la la yeah.. uh huh, yeah..."
***note - when I listen to that SHA LA LA LA... I feel like pissing blood on that guy's beard...

LemonHead - Mrs Robinson
"And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson***
Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)"
***note - Simon and Garfunkel original tune is less irritating.

Four Non Blondes - What's Going On
"25 years of my life and still
I'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
for a destination***
I realized quickly when I knew I should
that the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
for whatever that means"
***note - it's been 50 years now, I guess...

Love music regardless...


Poetry/Curiosity Facts:
El Miedo

Una mañana, nos regalaron un conejo de Índias.
Llegó a casa enjaulado.
Al mediodía, le abrí la puerta de la jaula.
Volví a casa al anochecer
y lo encontré tal como lo había dejado:
jaula adentro, pegado a los barrotes,
temblando del susto de la liberdad.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

...::: ----- :::...

Dreams
by Edgar Allan Poe
1827


Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be—that dream eternally
Continuing—as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood—should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,—have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought—what more could I have seen?
'Twas once—and only once—and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me—'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit—or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly—or the stars—howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind—let it pass.


I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy—and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love—and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Don't Leave Me Without Consulting Me

I've had this blogspot for almost like two years now and I can't imagine my life without this THE PANWSHOP... I might be wrong but I wouldn't put an end in it without consulting my fellow regular readers. No, ma'am. No sir. I wouldn't simply walk away thinking that it'll be just a hit on a 'delete this blog' button.


So many blogs are started and abandoned every day, all the time. Too bad that sometimes they are even left out by their owners without any further explanations to the readers. But what bugs me is to find a great blog only some days before it is deleted. I wish bloggers signed a contract saying that they are expected to stick with that blogspot and honor it for at least five years. And let's not forget a short notice at least 3 months prior the elimination of the blog.


I encountered this blog (see photo above) like a month ago and I had been enjoying it so much since then... but just yesterday*, she (Candy, the blogger) announced its end. Why do people like to hurt us this bad? Why do they kill their spots as they were mere hiper-texts shining on a computer screen??? A blog that is once born must resist and last as long as its owner is alive. I may be sort of exaggerating here but that was a true estatement. Don't they see that each time we link a new blog into our templates, a connection is set by a commitment of a new regular reader? Maybe I ought to be more clear...

Since I've started blogging, this is being the time I've had the largest number of readers. As a result, I feel like reading their blogs back in order to show them my deepest respect. Some of those spots are so interesting that I end up linking them... And these fellow bloggers soon become like family. You see? When these folks decide on their own to quit blogging, and worse than that, they decide to vanish with all that had been posted, and sometimes they do those without posting even a farewell letter - you know those good-bye posts that sound more like a suicide note to me, it seems that the world will collapse in front of me. I just can't take it too easy.

Why why why??? How come those bloggers do these things to me? What have I done wrong? How come these folks come and go like I simply don't count in this world? This is so true. Another case was with this spot. It is called RETROBABE and its owned by an interesting guy called Ian.


It used to have a deep red background and tons of information on music. Luckily, the pressure of all readers made his return with a whole new template and the same great contents on music.

I just love when I know I've been read and I do have a blast when I find out I am being linked into other bloggers' spots. I just think that these kinds of reading responses are a great deal of fun. When I myself link people's spots into mine, I believe this is me officially saying:"From now on, I'll be reading your posts religiously. You are actually almost a member of my family." I may not leave comments on every post I read, but I'm there. I'll be always there. So, you guys who are keeping your blogs for some time now, and mostly you guys who have your spots linked to mine or vice-versa, you all ought to know that you should not come on with those suicide notes saying that you won't blog anymore or that you'll vanish your spot from blogsphere. No, no, no thank you so much. This ain't really nice. It's just plain misery.

*I started writing this post a week ago.

Thursday, March 9, 2006

Happy International Women's Day


Today's the 9th, so I missed one day for the occasion. However, we must remember it every day. So I say "Congrats to all girls of this world!!!" March 8th is our day. Women are wholesome. WE ARE GREAT. But I do suffer by being one though. Well, that is a subject for another post. Guys, look at the photo I've posted up there... YEAH!!! We are three sisters. We are all women. I know they celebrate it too. This day is The International Women's Day. Here in Brazil, we take this holiday seriously. We celebrate it to the fullest. Here there is a link where you can get to know more about it. On the photo, you see Fernanda, 22, and Jennifer, 25, my sweet younger sisters whom I haven't seen since November 2002... MISS YOU TWO TOO BAD! Congratulations to all of us who have helped support the men's "fragile" world. Congrats FER! Congrats JENNI!

Friday, March 3, 2006

navigate you all...

http://www.raptorial.com/Zine/


About Vitality
from that site

Many brilliant people who ought to know better
Waste their valuable time on Earth talking 'bout the weather
Now vital times they come and vital times they go
We could be in vital times, instead we pick our nose.

Thursday, March 2, 2006

Je ne sais pas faire... Je ne sais pas dire...


L'ÊTRE AVANT LA LETTRE



la vie en close
c'est une autre chose
c'est lui
c'est moi
c'est ça
c'est la vie des choses
qui n'ont pas
un autre choix

by Paulo Leminski


.....................................

imagine si ceci
un jour ceci
un beau jour
imagine
si un jour
un beau jour ceci
cessait
imagine

by Samuel Beckett

Wednesday, March 1, 2006

You know...

You see...when people are under depression, they find normal difficulties at writing, so they tend to locate those stupid tests to fill their blogs in with bullcrap... That is why I stole this from Marcia's blog. The worst is that not even half of the result of this test I can consider true. I just loved the final statement.

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion:
You have medium extroversion.
You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party.
Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences.
But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time."

Conscientiousness:
You have low conscientiousness.
Impulsive and off the wall, you don't take life too seriously.
Unfortunately, you sometimes end up regretting your snap decisions.
Overall, you tend to lack focus, and it's difficult for you to get important things done.

Agreeableness:
You have medium agreeableness.
You're generally a friendly and trusting person.
But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.
You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:
You have low neuroticism.
You are very emotionally stable and mentally together.
Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly.
Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure.

Openness to experience:

Your openness to new experiences is high.
In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.
You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.

A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything.

Wording Tuesday

scaf·fold·ing ˈskafəldiNG/ noun a temporary structure on the outside of a building, made usually of wooden planks and metal poles, used b...