There's no point at all: we're just money collectors.

We spend all life gathering money:
- for the infancy, then school, College, marriage, kids (and they start the vicious circle again), moving on to  gathering money to help their children and then to pay medical bills and sometimes lawyers and then the elderly home.

- in the end, after having spent a lifetime gathering money to pay for our lives, we have to have money to pay our own deaths and our burials too.

It's bloody awful what we've done to ourselves and others, establishing hideous core foundations for our existence.

Never start digging without being completely ready for what you may find.

To my brothers and sisters

You'll never know how much I loved you;
how much effort and dedication
I've put on to protect and take care of you;
as if you were my own to do so.

You don't remember anything
because you were young
and I've never reminded you
of how much we did together.

With the years passing
I've become bitter and angry
because you were no longer mine
to care and I wasn't important to you.

So when my life is trough
and my heart beats any longer
I want you to know
that I loved you so.

Lust for Design (?)

What is this craving for redesigning everything, trying to make it more beautiful?

Why has our society become so addicted to visual stimulus?

Is what we are and what we make, that awful, that you have to cover and incur in a blind pursuit to embellish everything?

It's comes to me the old question: «a rose, if given another name, is not still a rose?»

Or is it all a product of our deepest fears of death, damnation and disgrace? As always, trying to lie to ourselves in order to not perish at the harsh and ugly face of reality?

We stopped creating from scratch just to work on everything there is already, and most times not even making improvements. This comes to me as a sign of how we are in the process of dooming ourselves and not rising above. It's spreading like the poison of advertising and consumption.

“Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. 

Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.”

by Carrie Bradshaw, in Sex and the City

Being human is so complex that not even our actions say who we are.

No, I'm not going your way.

Marriage and kids seem to me a lousy business, the kind you'd get if you entered a travel agency without knowing what you want and you end up with what everyone else is getting.

Why the hell, in my perfect sense, would I bring children into a world of major famine, rage and disgusting human beings that sell and betray and slaughter as a hobby?

I prefer not following any road, instead of going on the same that everyone's going just to not feel bored, or lonesome, or whatever selfish reason.

Of all things, why am I an artist? 
Because I just have one life.

The bullet-proof heart

Source: http://poesiadodesassossego.blogspot.com/2012/02/poema-objecto-coracoes-prova-de-bala.html

Now you have sorrow, but your heart will rejoice again and no one can take that from you.