"... mas é porque acho que o amor se sujeira ao tempo, vejo que, ao ser posto à prova, também modera o tempo a centelha e o fogo de seu ardor. Na própria chama do amor vive uma espécie de pavio ou mecha que acaba enfraquecendo-a. Nada existe que se mantenha permanentemente no mesmo grau de bondade, visto que esta, aumentando até a pletora, morre no próprio excesso. O que quiséssemos fazer, deveríamos fazer no momento de querer, porque esse 'querer' muda e sofre tantas diminuições e adiamentos quantos sejam os lábios, as mãos e os acidentes por que atravessa e então esse 'dever' transforma-se numa espécie de suspiro dissipador que causa dano ao ser exalado."
.
Shakespeare
em Hamlet
.
quarta-feira, 6 de julho de 2011
sábado, 16 de abril de 2011
Just for today
Just for today, I will try to live through this day only,
and not tackle my whole life problem
at once. I can do something for twelve hours
that would appall me if I felt that I had to
keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today, I will be happy. This assumes to
be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that
"most folks are as happy as they make up
their minds to be."
Just for today, I will try to strengthen my mind.
I will study. I will learn something useful.
I will not be a mental loafer. I will read
something that requires effort, thought and
concentration.
Just for today, I will adjust myself to what is,
and not try to adjust everything to my own
desires. I will take my "luck" as it comes,
and fit myself to it.
Just for today, I will exercise my soul in three
ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and
not get found out. I will do at least two
things I don't want to--just for exercise.
I will not show anyone that my feelings are
hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not
show it
Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look
as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low,
act courteously, criticize not one bit, not
find fault with anything and not try to improve
or regulate anybody except myself.
Just for today, I will have a program. I may not
follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will
save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
Just for today, I will have a quiet half hour all
by myself, and relax. During this half hour,
sometime, I will try to get a better perspective
of my life.
Just for today, I will be unafraid. Especially I
will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful,
and to believe that as I give to the world, so
the world will give to me.
-Kenneth L. Holmes
sábado, 26 de março de 2011
Os pingos
As torneiras da tua casa pingam. A do chuveiro, a da pia do banheiro e a da pia da cozinha. Só tem essas três torneiras, e todas elas pingam.
Eu sempre levanto e tento fechar as torneiras que pingam. Eu digo a mim mesma que é por causa do meio ambiente, uma torneira pingando representa não sei quantos litros de água desperdiçados no fim de um dia. (Não sei porque nunca consigo guardar qualquer desses número significativos - quantos litros são mesmo? quanto tempo leva para decompor uma bituca de cigarro?)
Mas eu sei que não é só isso. Os pingos me deixam nervosa. Eu não consigo estudar, não consigo jantar, não consigo escovar os dentes, não consigo nem fazer xixi. Só ouço e vejo os pingos.
E os pingos me lembram coisas ruins. Me dizem que tem algo errado. Os pingos não deveriam estar lá. E tem coisas que estão dentro de mim que não deveriam estar aqui. E elas pingam, aparecem de vez em quando. E deveria estar escondidas. Só deveriam sair se eu abrisse a torneira. Mas elas pingam, sem que eu queria. E você vê que elas existem. E você pode não gostar, pode ficar nervoso. E se você não conseguir fechar a torneira e acabar com os pingos e decidir trocar de torneira?
.
Eu sempre levanto e tento fechar as torneiras que pingam. Eu digo a mim mesma que é por causa do meio ambiente, uma torneira pingando representa não sei quantos litros de água desperdiçados no fim de um dia. (Não sei porque nunca consigo guardar qualquer desses número significativos - quantos litros são mesmo? quanto tempo leva para decompor uma bituca de cigarro?)
Mas eu sei que não é só isso. Os pingos me deixam nervosa. Eu não consigo estudar, não consigo jantar, não consigo escovar os dentes, não consigo nem fazer xixi. Só ouço e vejo os pingos.
E os pingos me lembram coisas ruins. Me dizem que tem algo errado. Os pingos não deveriam estar lá. E tem coisas que estão dentro de mim que não deveriam estar aqui. E elas pingam, aparecem de vez em quando. E deveria estar escondidas. Só deveriam sair se eu abrisse a torneira. Mas elas pingam, sem que eu queria. E você vê que elas existem. E você pode não gostar, pode ficar nervoso. E se você não conseguir fechar a torneira e acabar com os pingos e decidir trocar de torneira?
.
quarta-feira, 3 de novembro de 2010
.
O amor não resolve nada. O amor é uma coisa pessoal, e alimenta-se do respeito mútuo. Mas isto não transcende o colectivo. Levamos já dois mil anos dizendo-nos isso de amar-nos uns aos outros. E serviu de alguma coisa? Poderíamos mudá-lo por respeitar-nos uns aos outros, para ver se assim tem mais eficácia. Porque o amor não é suficiente.
José Saramago
.
Eu amo. Eu respeito. Ou tento, pelo menos.
.
quinta-feira, 21 de outubro de 2010
about love, again.
.
“One who has never been in love might mistake either infatuation or a mixture of affection and sexual attraction for being in love. But when the ‘real thing’ happens, there is no doubt. A man in the jungle at night, as someone said, may suppose a hyena’s growl to be a lion’s; but when he hears a lion’s growl, he knows damn well it’s lions.”
Vanauken
.
“One who has never been in love might mistake either infatuation or a mixture of affection and sexual attraction for being in love. But when the ‘real thing’ happens, there is no doubt. A man in the jungle at night, as someone said, may suppose a hyena’s growl to be a lion’s; but when he hears a lion’s growl, he knows damn well it’s lions.”
Vanauken
.
terça-feira, 24 de agosto de 2010
segunda-feira, 23 de agosto de 2010
.
"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. (...) I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."
.
"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. (...) I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."
.
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)