Disability Revisited

Houvesse alguém que dita o mundo.

The Long Walk Alone

The Sin

Vês de vez em quando as minhas vestes flutuarem, trazidas pelo fumo do cigarro? Decerto vejo as tuas.

Pale Blue Dot

"From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known, so far, to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

— Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space, 1997 reprint, pp. xv–xvi

Amigos Imaginários

É de pé a olhar para o mar, semi-sozinho, que vejo as tuas vestes pairarem sobre a água como que sustentadas pelo vento, de onde saem palavras talvez inexistentes, talvez apenas assobiadas, contigo longe. E de pé espero que voltes às vestes, que as tuas palavras não sejam tão frias como o mesmo vento que as parece transportar. E espero, sem saber quando irei parar de esperar - e espero, apesar do vento me cofidenciar que queres que eu também parta. Não. Para cada canto onde vou, para cada costa, montanha ou floresta que vá, a cada passo nas ruas da cidade deserta levo o teu fantasma comigo, em silêncio, apenas lá. E se um dia o vento levar até as tuas vestes, o teu fantasma continuará lá. Cúmplice, puro, para sempre minha adversária e minha companheira silenciosa. Mesmo que não espere um retorno, ninguém me pode roubar a memória e um segredo.

Molten

"When the morning comes it doesn't seem to say an awful lot to me."

Curse

Tonight I mourn the loss of heart and soul.

The path is taken, the curse received.

Dark and barren in the winter night.

Shadows move along the tree line.

A life is cleansed in blood.

Cleansed by these guilt hands.

Purged in a hollow soul.

Scorched and punished.

At the harbor I waited.

Kept an eye on the Baltic Sea.

Across these eastern waters a country of filth and dirt.

He emerged from the forest, how did he know? I damn this forsaken land.

Still the moon is looming low.

Quite Interesting

“We live, they say, in The Information Age, yet almost none of the information we think we possess is true. Eskimos do not rub noses. The rickshaw was invented by an American. Joan of Arc was not French. Lenin was not Russian. The world is not solid, it is made of empty space and energy, and neither haggis, whisky, porridge, clan tartans or kilts are Scottish. So we stand, silent, on a peak in Darien a vast, rolling, teeming, untrodden territory before us. QI country. Whatever is interesting we are interested in. Whatever is not interesting, we are even more interested in. Everything is interesting if looked at in the right way."

Luna

We were the ones who marched and fell.

Painkiller Colours

The moon has now risen
The cold darkness takes over my mind
The spiders they keep leaving me under
I'm just getting to high to climb