julho 31, 2005

rewind, play...

the accumulating rage starts to transform itself in something completely different

no need to apologize

as it turns out, i guess i'm not a freak for constantly playing with paper planes
sometimes it pays off being a child at heart

slight afternoon shiver

what are you waiting for? wasn't this what you were expecting for the past week?
don't back out now...

julho 29, 2005

package v2.0 AKA endless repeat

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loud in the morning,
not so loud in the evening...

julho 28, 2005

nobody expects the... #1

it's about time i talk some s(ci)ence in here... maybe you've wondered what the hell am i doing in London. i, too, ask myself that question quite often. so, here goes:

apoptosis. elucidated? of course not. apoptosis is a greek word used to describe the falling of leaves from trees and/or petals from flowers. in scientific terms, it is used to define programmed cell death or "cellular suicide".
you could ask what's the importance of cell death for a living organism. well, it's extremely important, as it allows the shaping of organs during embryogenesis and the maintenance of homeostasis during adult life. without apoptosis, we wouldn't have fingers (we'd all look like ducks with their interdigital membranes... weird), our brains wouldn't fit our skulls, among many other examples. apoptosis is also important in disease, as too much apoptosis is involved in neurodegenerative diseases, and too little in cancer (hence, why i work in a cancer research centre...)

contrary to common sense or logic, all cells in our bodies are in a "death default state". this means that cells constantly need signals to keep living (finally a cellular explanation for depression...). loss of these survival signals invariably leads to removal of the cell. of course, this is not the only way cells activate its self-destruction program. drugs, chemicals and radiation can also cause cell death.

i won't bore you with the details of my work, as it dwells on the molecular aspects of apoptosis. i leave you with the short note that i work with those tiny little fruit flies that hover around rotting fruit. next time you squash one of them, think of scientific advances...

julho 27, 2005

synchronized bladders

começa a ser facto científico, dado que sempre que estou na eminência de me dirigir ao WC cá do sítio (unisexo, por sinal. talvez noutra altura...), este está sempre (mas sempre) ocupado. raispartam!

27 July 1945

the day one of the roots of my family tree was born. 60 years in this ever-changing world, without once stepping away from the path you chose. 35 years later, i came into your life and, although we were not the closest pair, you have taught me many things. most of all, you have been an example for me. the values that guide my life have come from you. i just hope i can see you another 60 years in this world. enjoy your day. i'll be thinking of you.
if only i had a fraction of the talent that flows through your veins, i could continue the family tradition. i guess that's why i came second...

julho 26, 2005

remembering the arcades...

pac-man should've been like this all along...

nice guys finish last

...and experience extreme mood swings......and get depressed often......and reach the saturation point......and exist rather than live......and, and, and...

london's summer

praticamente inexistente
prova disso é a constipação que germina dentro de mim

que saudades do sol abrasador...

julho 25, 2005

day of wrong moves

i should have stayed in bed...

julho 24, 2005

conundrum

why, oh, why are you playing the "Rocky" theme song on the website? is it a clue for the next album's release date/name?
note to self: think before posting...

cremation

spread my ahses
in the morning wind close to the shore i used to know
i no longer recognize it my entrails cringe at the sight of my former body
i wish you hadn't done it over and over again you burned me from within
i kept choking with the fumes emanating from each unit i possessed
you will choke later on as soon as you succeed when your plan is finished
you'll ask for what you've stole you'll lose your breath as i lost mine
i hope you suffer as much as i did over the years my flaming
body aching as i launch my final words of utter hate
to all who have destroyed me you did not
deserve to live
within me i die
every day in the
summer and you
laugh counting
your money and
your champagne
cling to them
after i'm gone
and tell me if
it was worth it

blank page

torn from the book you kept close to your heart. quickly spreading drops of blood. i see them running down the sides of your face. their paths blurred with all the lights
but unmistakably there
flesh wounds growing into ravaging cancers. you wipe them clean. hoping they trudged unnoticed
that the page is still immaculately blank
but i see the tiny little red dots. and i can't bear to count them. it's so much easier to indulge into oblivion
torn a gain
torn again

julho 23, 2005

package

GIFT
EQUALS
FRUSTRATION
OUT


thanks, big brother

oh, cynical little me...

all i do is sleep all day AND THINK OF YOU
a memory of the cushion life i'm clinging to
the image of a mutual one
our haven
the sombre chords of our song
the fading

LOVE IS NO BIG TRUTH
driven by our genes WE ARE SIMPLE SELFISH BEINGS
a symphony that's you
joyously awaking the ignorant and sleeping

passion and its brother hate, they come and go
could easily be made to stay for longer though
many people play this game so willingly
do i have to be like them, or be lonely?
another view, of what there is to it. getting me through it.

i'll never need it again, NOT AGAIN,
NOT AGAIN...

kings of convenience - love is no big truth

farewell chinese wisdom

o blogger está lentamente a voltar ao normal. lá se vão os caracteres chineses que tantas vezes animaram as minhas tentativas de postar a minha demência neste espaço.

from now on, be afraid. be very afraid...

julho 22, 2005

russian roulette city

one more day @ the action capital of the world...

and i cry if i want to

long summer night, ages ago. a small blue BMW races through the city. desperate to deliver the sister desperate to deliver...
o sopro externo que provocou o grito gutural ainda vagueia dentro de mim. à espera que eu me decida quanto ao que quero fazer dele.
o tempo passa depressa demais. a vida resume-se em episódios anedóticos e num vazio de memória semelhante ao dos primeiros anos. se me perguntassem o que aconteceu nesse período de tempo, não saberia responder. não consigo apontar a minha primeira memória. não me lembro da cara da minha primeira professora (o nome era Manuela, penso eu). não tenho amigos de infância que se recordem de mim ou dos quais me lembre (à excepção do Jorge que, passados 10 anos, passaria por mim sem que o reconhecesse).
as fotografias da minha infância mostram uma cara imberbe e feliz. completamente diferente. um sorriso genuíno e inocente. até o cabelo escorria pela cabeça ao contrário do que acontece hoje (uma mistura entre ninho de ratos e palha-de-aço).
se me questionarem acerca do que me moldou ao longo da minha existência, não saberei o que dizer. sou ainda um cérebro amorfo, com ligações desconexas para assuntos irrelevantes. uma base de dados preenchida por simples osmose, sem consequências práticas ou vivências.
continuo a moldar-me e a ser moldado. mesmo quando tudo parece rígido e inflexível, um pequeno gesto encerra em si uma mudança catastrófica que inicia um novo ciclo.
dizem que todas as células do nosso corpo (todas, à excepção dos neurónios - que são exactamente da nossa idade) são substituídas de 7 em 7 anos. duvido que assim seja, mas tenho que confessar que começo a render-me a algumas evidências.
8 anos, mudança de casa, corte de raízes e crescimento físico.
16 anos, mudança de estado de espírito, partilha daquilo que era na altura com outra pessoa, crescimento sentimental.
quase 24 anos, mudança de sentimentos, retorno à condição inicial de ser uno e solitário, redescoberta de mim mesmo.
hoje, passado um quarto de século, recordo e reflicto sobre a minha vida. o rumo que irá tomar não o posso prever. a história futura não se escreve, vive-se. é isso que tenciono fazer.
life is full of accidents. i like to think i was one of those waiting to happen...

countdown

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julho 21, 2005

July 20th 2005, trying to fall asleep...

i'm losing all sense of reality here
i need to get a grip on myself
não aguento mais esta alternância doentia entre
estados de euforia e de constante interrogação

i don't know what to think anymore
i can't understand what i feel
preciso de assentar os pés no chão
preciso de algo ou alguém que me mantenha focado
preciso de saber aquilo que devo ou não seguir

i want to know what's in store...

epiphany

and after hanging up the phone, i finally realized the ridiculous situation i am in...

not again...

you will not succeed!

deafening tunes #7 (T-1 day)

hello, i know there's someone out there who can understand
and who's feeling the same way as me

i'm twenty-four and i've got everything to live for
but i know now that it wasn't meant to be
'cause all has been lost and all has been won
and there's nothing left for us to save

but now i know that i don't want to be alone today
so if you find that you've been feeling just the same

call me now it's alright
it's just the end of the world
you need a friend in the world 'cause you can't hide
so call and i'll get right back

if your intentions are pure
i'm seeking a friend for the end of the world


i've got a photograph i'll send it off today
and you will see that
i am perfectly sane
not for a lifetime or forever and a day
'cause we know now that just won't be the case
there will be no commitment and no confessions
and no little secrets to keep
no little children or houses with roses just the end of the world and me
'cause all has been gone and all has been done
and there's nothing left for us to say
but
we could be together as they blow it all away
and we can share in every moment as it breaks


call me now it's alright
it's just the end of the world
you need a friend in the world 'cause you can't hide
so call and i'll get right back
if your intentions are pure
i'm seeking a friend for the end of the world


chris cornell - preaching the end of the world

Etiquetas:

julho 20, 2005

diagnosis

"(...) i develop all the text-book symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. i can bring back (...) but her face is a blank, and i fill it in with some anonymous (...) details (...)"

what's this all about? come on, let's be honest, you wouldn't even go out with yourself! how are you supposed to attract someone else? be pragmatic, you're not tall, muscular or even handsome. you're just a tiny little bug waiting to be stepped on. yeah, i know. but i'm a feisty little bug that is going down fighting...

julho 19, 2005

deafening tunes #6

you quiver like a candle on fire i'm putting you out maybe tonight we could be the last shout but i'm fascinated by your style your beauty will last for a while you're feeling instead of being the more that i live on the inside there's nothing to give i'm infatuated by your moves i'm got to search out for your clues i want to repair your desire and call it a gift that i stole from just wanting to live now i see the vision through your eyes your innocence no longer fuels surprise trying to outrun your fear your running to lose, heart on your sleeve and your soul in your shoes take a left, a sharp left and another left, meet me on the corner and we'll start again

badly drawn boy - once around the block

Etiquetas:

why-fi

the concept seems to be beyond your grasp
it's so strange
you don't see any other species doing it
(at least the successful ones - what's success, anyway?)
so why should you?
the twisted logic that controls your mind now
argues against it
it had to
so it could fuel the behaviour you insist in displaying
why?
i could tell you my viewpoint
if only you would listen...

vampire

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hunting. searching for an unsuspecting victim in the dark. it has already got me...

and i thought i was modern...

a child of the 90's falling in love with the cradle of civilization.
for completely different reasons, but still...

soundtrack

what song would be able to describe me?
which tune applies to my current life?
can you sing it to me?
what notes show what i feel right now?
i wish i knew how to play the perfect song...

julho 18, 2005

archetype

it's just so typically me.
not a word spoken.
and a torrent of thoughts...

won't you take a look at the clouds?

you might see me there... it's so goddamn strange. how can this be still going on during the XXI century? aren't we supposed to be evolved? it shouldn't be this difficult... at least, the first step has been travelled. from both sides. let's see if the paths intersect...

hold on, heart...

it's finally here, and i'm too afraid to open it and read it...
i think i need some food in my stomach before i can brace myself to read it...
god, it's like i'm 16 all over again! what does this mean, anyway??

paper plane waiting to land

"unfortunately, i didn't have the chance..." as in, i didn't have the balls. "wow, i'm impressed...". actually, i'm fucking terrified of what i've just done. i can feel the can of worms opening up as we speak. oh, what the hell. i can stand the embarrassment, but i couldn't stand the regret of not doing anything.. at least, i feel alive. confused. excited. nervous. most of all i feel. this hard heart is being rushed away like in that song. except it's not the end of the summer yet. and, definitely, the air is not cold...

julho 17, 2005

sitting, waiting (the hardest part...), wishing...

well i was sitting, waiting, wishing you believed in superstitions
then maybe you'd see the signs
the lord knows that this world is cruel i ain't the lord, no
i'm just a fool
learning lovin' somebody don't make them love you
must i always be waiting, waiting on you
must i always be playing, playing your fool
i sang your songs, i danced your dance i gave your friends all a chance
but putting up with them wasn't worth never having you
maybe you've been through this before but it's my first time so please ignore
the next few lines cause they're directed at you
i can't always be waiting, waiting on you
i can't always be playing, playing your fool
i keep playing your part but it's not my scene
want this plot to twist i've had enough mystery
keep building it up then you shooting me down
but I'm already down
just wait a minute
just sitting, waiting
just wait a minute
just sitting, waiting
well, if i was in your position i'd put down all my ammunition
i'd wonder why'd it taken me so long
but the lord knows that i'm not you
and if i was, i wouldn't be so cruel cause waitin' on love ain't so easy to do
must i always be waiting, waiting on you
must i always be playing, playing your fool
no, i can't i always be waiting, waiting on you
i can't always be playing, playing your fool


jack johnson

julho 15, 2005

15 years

ahead of my time? i really shouldn't be asking myself these questions. or should i? i guess there's no way of planning ahead. not in this life. it's like betting in the least probable event. it's the zero in the roulette. you just keep kidding yourself and the ones who love you. until the day it all crashes down on you. you know that day will come, sooner or later. i'd be glad if it's now. i'd be glad if i can pull through this. i'd be pleased if you'd understand. i'd be surprised if you'd accept it and dealt with it. and i would be happy if i could see you everyday by my side. we'll see in 15 years time...

€vision aftermath

will i ever see you again? will you remember my face? i won't forget yours. i know it's bound to haunt my dreams from now on. along with your smile aimed directly at my eyes. short glances, long sentences that should have been whispered in your ear. fantasies overlap your reality with my dreams. i know it's just a dream, i know it'll never happen, but at least my heart is pumping once more. and i don't care if it'll be just once a year...
perhaps until the day i lose the grip of invisible hands that keep me from taking risks, playing the game. even if it's a sure loss... it's all about participating, it's not about winning. you know, i've always hated losing. you're a four letter word for me now. an embodiement of a long lost feeling...

"good night... this is ?athens?nicosia? speaking..."

julho 14, 2005

perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

enticing
lovely
luminous
incredible


paralysing
alluring
pleasing
appealing
engaging
magnificent
motivating
amusing
nice
unattainable?
illusion?
lovable?

julho 11, 2005

60 years

never forget, never again

1945-2005

f(e)rida

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"i paint self-portraits because i am so often alone, because i am the person i know best."

julho 08, 2005

the day after

o dia depois da tragédia. custa a acreditar que depois do ambiente de festa de quarta-feira, no dia seguinte as bandeiras estariam a meia-haste por todo o lado. uma tragédia para muitas pessoas, especialmente para os amigos e familiares das vítimas e dos feridos graves que ainda se encontram em estado crítico. pelo que é dado a entender nas notícias, ainda decorrem trabalhos de resgate em King's Cross. é de esperar, portanto, um aumento no número de vítimas nos próximos dias.
as feridas físicas vão sarar muito mais depressa do que as psicológicas. infelizmente, esta é uma situação que dificilmente poderia ter sido evitada, por mais preparação que as forças de segurança tivessem. é a realidade do nosso tempo, em que a guerra deixou de ser um conceito abstracto que só existe em países ditos sub-desenvolvidos e não democráticos, para passar a estar em cada esquina de cada cidade do mundo ocidental.
na minha sincera opinião, os atentados foram trágicos, não haja dúvidas. mas também é mais que certo que poderiam ter sido muito mais trágicos do que foram. para quem conhece bem a cidade de Londres, o sistema de metro e as enchentes que se verificam na hora de ponta, sabe bem do que estou a falar. especialmente quando, quem quer que esteja por trás deste acto cobarde, escolheu precisamente locais de convergência de multidões, isto é, as estações de metro onde é possível fazer transbordo para outras linhas.
hoje, a cidade volta aos poucos à normalidade possível depois do que aconteceu. os autocarros prosseguem as suas viagens diárias, o metro volta à actividade (excepto nas zonas afectadas. muitas linhas estão paradas, mas outras têm serviço normal), os semblantes nas carruagens de metro estão mais carregados do que o costume, não há ninguém que fique indiferente. ao mesmo tempo, nota-se uma solidariedade e uma determinação invulgar em todos. a preocupação de voltar a ter business as usual nesta verdadeira amálgama de idiomas, nacionalidades e culturas.
a cidade acorda da paralisia de ontem. é importante que o faça. porque o medo é a principal arma dos terroristas.

julho 07, 2005

the twilight zone v6.0

37 mortos. 700 feridos.

the twilight zone v5.0

33 mortos de acordo com a polícia. cerca de 1000 feridos.
1º ataque num metro que saía de Liverpool Street às 8h51m. 7 mortos confirmados.
8h56m - 21 mortos confirmados em King's Cross
9h17m - 5 mortos confirmados em Edgware Road. 3 metros atingidos.
9h47m - Bus nº30 de Hackney para Marble Arch explode em Woburn Place/Russell Square. Não há ainda número confirmado de mortos.

ataque reivindicado por uma organização desconhecida até ao momento. "Secret Organisation al Qaeda in Europe" executou os ataques para "vingar os massacres cometidos pelas tropas britânicas no Iraque e Afeganistão"

e ainda não são 4 da tarde...

the twilight zone v4.0

45 mortos e 1000 feridos segundo a sky news.
2 mortos e alguns feridos segundo a bbc news (provavelmente para não gerar o pânico...).
cidade fechada. metro parado. a paranóia segue dentro de momentos...

the twilight zone v3.0

de acordo com as últimas notícias/boatos/especulações mediáticas, 20 mortos, 90 feridos e o dedo da Al-Qaeda por trás dos "severe incidents" que ocorreram esta manhã em Londres, por volta das 08h40m...

e ainda custa a acreditar que a cidade está parada. para quem conhece Londres, ver a zona à volta da estação de Victoria completamente deserta às 11h30m da manhã é capaz de deixar qualquer um perturbado.

the twilight zone v2.0

um double decker que ficou que nem uma lata de sardinhas aberta. continua a incerteza e, ainda mais irritante, a incapacidade de ter notícias fiáveis...

the twilight zone

caos em Londres. explosões em 5 estações de metro. causas ainda indeterminadas. more news will follow...

julho 06, 2005

olympic platinum

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wide open space

irreconhecível. num raro momento de clarividência, decidi arrumar a minha secretária. first year report a quanto obrigas... agora já consigo pensar (e respirar) melhor. até o monitor passou a estar a uma distância mais aceitável. agora é só esperar que a inspiração venha para recomeçar a escrever o que falta. inspiração e paciência para conseguir acabar isto antes do fim do mês.

sim, senão não há dinheirinho para ninguém...

julho 05, 2005

you know it well

dou-me com toda a gente
não me dou a ninguém...

jorge palma - frágil

big brother

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keep on watching me, "old" one...

julho 04, 2005

tidal

cycles of solid and liquid elements
once ventured to bathe the crumbling cliff
high up in the night sky
a faceless moon organized all
timings, lengths, intensities
distantly close
pulled apart by larger forces
its orbit slowly deviating
from the programmed path
agreed to countless ages before
the tilting grew larger and larger
as time went by
no more cycles or tides
just a crumbling cliff
trying to remain high and tall
despite the daily dry erosion
facing the dark side
of a once shiny moon

julho 03, 2005

the special k took my friend away

"you don't know how you've made my life easier these past couple of months"
i've done nothing, and you know it
sure, i don't hassle you when the juices are flowing
not even when charlie's with you
it doesn't mean i like it or even endorse it
anyway, it's your life
as long as you don't try to pull me into that whirlwind
of endless trips to the bar
or to the closest surface
horizontal enough to serve as a platform for taking off
no, thanks
my brain is pretty messed up as it is
no need to destroy it further
i won't indulge into shovelling that crap every weekend
you shouldn't do it too
all in all you're a nice guy
even when you're fucked out of your senses
and your mind is an amorphous soup of synapses
well, i guess nobody is perfect

julho 02, 2005

million year old self-portrait

julho 01, 2005

fresh..man

filamentous waves fly in the sky
while you swirl around yourself
almost hovering above the ground
spinning your hidden soul
trying to keep the rhythm going
and smiling along
even when you feel trapped
within yourself
and cast away
in a sleepless island
thoughts and feelings
constantly piercing the distant bodies
sweet and sour
but never fading

(1998-2005 - always overwhelming, always closer)

spiral

o m

c a f

o r n o

t e c d r

r s l c t

e o l

s o