People think friends are like flour: there's the self-raising, the plain and the all-purpose one.

The Prize.

No money, no honor, no war to fight but life,
Sometimes there's no winners I realize.

Whatever you do nothing good comes out of it,
Whatever you feel it won't make you any better.

Theses flying thoughts infest my gestures
and I have no actions at all
as I climb on and on in my sins
there's no peek of glory.

You never understood my battles
and couldn't love me more than for a while
couldn't grasp my feelings for you
even though you tried only for a second.

Come now and join me in my demise
Because you're the core of the story
Even more than we can reckon
There was never a possible prize.

Identity

There are peoples that haven't got themselves an identity, because they don't have enough History and even Culture, or also because they're just a melting pot of other peoples.

Not having an identity can be quite confusing. In this world in which everything is rushed into judgement not having a definition scares everyone else, not having a definition is seen as threatening.

This world has made our brains divide people in three: white dumb rich know-and-can-all people, black poor and insignificant people, and terrorist suicidal-bombers. Yes, it's true, not just simplistically; our brains are formatted to make everything we sense fit into concepts that society has created and introduced us to since a young age. That's why we can only see black and white, and then feel grey, and then have a sense of confusion installed when realizing something's not quite right in all the conceptions we've designed.

What's who we are? Is it what's to see or what's to feel? Is it both? How do we negotiate when they're opposites, when the informations we obtain just don't add up in our conceptions and appearing so contradictory? Do we ignore them and let the judgement speak louder?

Are we just what people think of us? Or are we much more, or another thing, different than everyone thinks? And if so, who knows us? How do we show who we really are, in order to break all stereotypes that hang upon us?

That's why we are mostly naturally solitary beings .

Can or should we put in order what we are first to last? And how do we do it? Am I first an individual or am I a collective being?

How can we move on if we don't know who we are as individuals and collective beings?

 if people had a conscience and were aware that every single one of them are dying, they would be much better than what they are... 


As they don't, they're just a bunch of rotting beings, freaking animalia

Still a little bit of your taste...

A wonderful world

There's something about this world
that I know I'll never fully grasp,
just as the musics I'll never listen
and all the landscapes I'll never see.

I know the wind and the water,
and the sky and the earth
will remain after I'm gone
to the land of no return.

I've seen there are many wonders
all throughout this luxurious world
but it saddens me to witness
all the damage that humans make.

I know the animals and the plants,
the way they blossom so beautiful
and the rainbows and sunsets
will always be there for you and me.

But it bruises my heart to feel
that everything that we ruin
is the only thing it's real.

It makes me fall into the deepest abyss
to realize the destruction we made
in this wonderful world as we call.

Sheets of empty canvas

Long curtains of life pyrocraved with moments of lacey love and trimmed sadness.
I keep ironing them and I don't learn anything new out of them.
My paintings are filled with emptiness and anger and wishes for peace and happiness, turmoils of draped experiences all stamped on the walls.
Remember how we use to be?

Easy lover.

I am an easy lover
my heart is solely my own
but it's given to another
whose soul is shown.

My hands sleep in his hair
waving thoughts of sinful
desires that I cannot bare
with my body brimful.

Whenever the old skies
present their pink strokes
my relentless heart dies

Imagining constraining ropes
around my old lover's soul
taking it inside me as a whole.

Society, this crazy breed... in Portugal.

Portugal is one of the European countries who is having to deal with the crisis by asking external financial aid, as Greece and others. Our deficit has reached values that exceed what we can get by cutting our own expenses and by increasing taxes. All in all, it has become a really excruciating scenery to everyone who inhabits Portugal, that's why in the latest years the emigration rose. Young people who don't see any good future perspectives have fled to other countries (like so many friends of mine).

We have been assisting to an overflow of the market, that being too many people to fewer number of job vacancies. Unfortunately since a long time ago, our culture imprinted that we should all strive to have a superior education and now, like me, we all have the degrees but no real application for them. The few positions are occupied by people who already had a comfortable financial background; the power and money seems to move from generation to generation within the families that already own them (a kind of modern oligarch system).

To give you an example of what I'm talking about, most of youngsters that just finished their college are already stuck in Call Centers, not having the possibility to try out in what they've been trained to for so many years.

It's all quite non-sense when you analyse it. 

Most people are quite pessimistic about the future, because everyday we're assaulted by the Media with information about how big is our debt (plus the constraining measures that are being taken by the current Government) and how long will it take to have a positive growth. That's what comes out of living too many years above our own possibilities, taking loans and credit, making unnecessary buildings all over (that now are empty and for cheap sale). 

Well, it's almost 180 billion euros of debt we're talking about, so it's looking really dark.

(written for an interview)

All I need, by Radiohead.

I am the next act waiting in the wings

I am an animal trapped in your hot car

I am all the days that you choose to ignoree

You are all I need

You are all I need

I am in the middle of your picture

Lying in the reeds

I am a moth who just wants to share your light

I'm just an insect trying to get out of the night

I only stick with you because there are no others

You are all I need

You are all I need

I'm in the middle of your picture

Lying in the reeds

S'all wrong

S'alright

S'alright

S'all wrong

S'alright

S'alright

S'alright