Babiblah

Cell phone notes I

2012-02-01T02:39:00.002-02:00

Somethings just can't wait long enough

Sunny Sunday

Today, I saw the cuttest thing Ive ever seen. He was in a red and blue plaid shirt and jeans. His pants were so low i could see his intire bum. He had this blond and messy hair and was sitting on the balcony in front of the city hall. He looked sad or maybe thoughtful. I couldnt tell but he was looking down. I wanted to talk to him. Know everything about him. He looked at me when I was riding my bike at the parking lot. I want to find out he is what i ve been looking for for so long. He's left. Was he waiting for someone? Most probably a girl. How ridiculous would that had been if i had said hi? Its getting late and I am here, sitting exaclty on the place he was. And i dont wanna leave.

TV off

Eu sempre precisei dormir com a TV ligada, ou uma luz acessa. De um abajour ou do corredor. Mas desde que me apaixonei por você, eu deito na cama e com você no pensamento vivo diversos programas, não preciso de tv. Me conto histórias lindas pra dormir. Não preciso mais de luz alguma. Meu coração ilumina meu sono.

(S)TALKING

2011-12-20T01:35:00.000-02:00

Tayla turned on the lights and decided to check the front door one more time. It was locked, so she went back inside, turned the lights off again and lay on her bed. “Good night Pepper” she said to the dog. It was only 10 o’clock, but she wanted to go to sleep before her neighbor, Joe, returned from work. She could not bear him shouting and singing in front of her house for one more night. Perhaps, if he thought she had fell asleep he would leave her alone for a change.

Her plan seemed to be working and she could get some sleep for a little while, but then at about midnight she was awakened by a voice calling her name. It was a man’s voice crying sobbingly for Tayla. “Not again” she thought. “No, I’m not coming out this time. What’s wrong with him? I bet he’s being drinking or something, but I’m not leaving this bed. Oh no!” she shouted. “C’mon girl, just ignore it.”

Tayla has moved to the countryside because of health problems. Her doctor said she needed a calm and cool life and get out of all that stressful city life she once had. She lived alone with her dog Pepper. Since she moved, 3 years ago, she made very few friends. Joseph was one of them. He was a good-looking man on his early twenties and he lived with his elderly mother in a small house across the street. He has always being nice to Tayla. When she got ill and had to be hospitalized, he would feed and take her dog for a walk. Even though Joseph was very attractive, Tayla never thought of him as anything but a friend. She knew he liked her and he was always complimenting and praising her. “If only he was a little bit older. But he is just a boy.” It was only a few weeks ago that she noticed that Joseph was acting awkward. Not only was he calling for her during the night, but she did see him fallowing her a few times.

Twenty minutes had past when Tayla jumped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She heard a rumbling noise as if someone was not knocking, but aggressively hitting the front door. “Go away or I’ll let the dog out” She looked for Pepper, but the dog did not seemed bothered as it has not even left bed. “Lazy dog, good for nothing” Then she shouted “Go home, Joe, or I’ll call the police. This time I ‘m actually going to do it”. The noise stopped but Tayla kept staring at the door, she had in her hands a frying pan, the only weapon she could reach from where she was standing. It was not the fist time she had threatened him and the only reason she’d never actually called the police was his elderly mother Mrs. Thompson. She would be devastated. She would never call the police, but she knew she could not continue to ignore it. It was time to end this story before something worse happened. “Yes, Pepper, I’ll go talk to him. I’ll go tomorrow”. For the rest of the night nothing else was heard.

Early in the morning, Tayla was awakened once again. This time it was only the doorbell. “Someone at door so soon?” She looked through the glass door and saw the silhouette of a tall dark skinned man. “Joseph!!”

“Good morning Mrs. Oaks, I know it is quite early but I wanted to…”

“Glad you came, Joseph. I agree we need to talk. Please, come in” She opened the door and the Joseph entered the house. “Please have a sit, I’ll make some tea” and she turned the kettle on. “You know why I moved to the country, don’t you Joe? My Doctor said I needed peace and quiet but lately things have gotten really agitated”.

“That’s why I’m here, Mrs. Oaks. I wanted to make sure you are taking…”

“Don’t you see we are having a conversation here? You are so impolite sometimes. We are going for a walk later, now be quiet.”

“Mrs Oaks, is Pepper still talking to you?”

Bem Aventurados aqueles....

2011-10-13T00:44:00.001-03:00

Nascida e criada em família cristã, aprendi a sempre dedicar uma parte de minhas orações a agradecer a Deus por minha família e amigos, pela saúde de ferro, pelo pão, o teto, a cama quentinha, a oportunidade de poder estudar e trabalhar e por nunca ter passado necessidade alguma na vida. Mas recentemente comecei a questionar o verdadeiro papel de Deus nessas conquistas todas. Não que eu tenha decidido me rebelar contra Deus depois de adulta nem esteja em duvida quanto minhas crenças, absolutamente! Não estou fazendo um questionamento religioso, mas político e social

Todo e qualquer ser humano desse mundo, e de qualquer outro, tem direito a saúde, moradia e educação. Se por acaso, na realidade em que vivemos isso se tornou privilégio de poucos, então obviamente alguma coisa está errada com nosso, ou nossos modelos sociais. Eu e minha família fomos agraciados. Alem de nunca nos faltar nada, fiz faculdade, consegui um bom emprego e falo (quase) três línguas. Isso graças aos 20 anos de estudo (privado) sustentados pelo meu pai terreno. Isso quer dizer que eu fiz por merecer e posso me sentir responsável por minha condição. E se a condição não está tão boa ainda me sinto no direito de reclamar. Afinal, pago todas minhas contas em dia, ando de metrô lotado, respondo os simulados do ENADE (mesmo que marcando tudo C...) e tenho direito a liberdade de expressão, portanto, reclamo do preço da gasolina, da CPTM e do MEC. Serviços oferecidos por seres humanos têm que funcionar sem ajuda divina. Não me julguem, só Deus pode me julgar.

A imagem de uma criança passando fome na África ou da jovem que passou a vida toda no hospital não me faz sentir melhor comigo mesmo. Me faz ficar triste saber que algumas pessoas vivem em tais condições e provavelmente nunca poderão fazer metade das coisas que elas deveriam ter feito. Comer, brincar, estudar, ter amigos e dar risada não são benefícios, são coisas triviais. Portanto, agradeça ao homem pelo saneamento básico e a cura do câncer. Mas é claro que, se você estiver em alguma situação em que apenas forças divinas podem te salvar (e eu não estou falando de sobreviver à linha vermelha as seis da tarde, isso aí é um problema do estado), então você deve sim agradecer, cumprir promessa e até marchar em nome de Jesus. E é claro que eu não acho que Deus gosta mais de mim do que dos outros. Precisamos lembrar que Ela não é responsável por tudo o que acontece no universo e que muito do milagre é esforço humano.

De forma alguma estou dizendo que Deus não tem nada a ver com nossas conquistas. Ela nos dá força para continuar vivendo nesse mundo caótico. Mas às vezes, de tão grande o caos, ficamos cegos e confundimos graça com o que nos é de direito. Deus é bom, mas não faz favor. Seremos cobrados, não pagando o dízimo, mas praticando a caridade. Se você é grato porque uma doença criada em laboratório não desgraçou sua vida, se sua fé te leva a crer que isso é certo ou simplesmente se agora você se sente motivado e responsável por uma pequena fatia do mundo, agradeça a Deus, vá e ajude o próximo.

It is fair

2011-10-04T00:42:00.003-03:00

- It is not like you think it is. A lot of men go to the house just to have a drink or something.

- Is there anything wrong with the regular bars?

- You don't understand. It is like, something we all gotta do...Being in a night club, drink beer with our friends, girls all around...You know what I mean? Possibility of sex. That's when we can be flirty but not necessarily have to up to a room or spend any money.

- I think I understand it...Pretty much what happens anytime a girl goes out.

ODD

2011-06-15T00:39:00.001-03:00

- I’m here already. Would you come down?

- In a minute. Bye.

- Bye.

- What are you laughing at?

- I forgot.

- Forgot?

- Forgot how small you are…

- Yeah, you said that the first time.

- Why were you laughing?

- I was just wondering….

- Wondering what?

- What’s happened to your hair.

Did you forget where your hairdresser is?

- Does it look bad?

- It looks…odd.

- It’s growing!

- Looks like your head’s grown. You don’t look bad though, just need a haircut.

- Your hair looks nice.

- Thanks. It’s only one color now.

- I see. Hey, here are your books. Scott Pilgrim 1, 2,3,4,5 and…6.

- Cheers! I really missed them.

- Yeah, Ramona and Scott are great company. They’d put me to sleep for the last few months. You know, since…

- Yeah…I know.

- Are you busy now?

- Busy? Not really, no. I’m…free.

- Would you give me a lift? I need to go to the shopping center.

- Sure, I mean…when was the last time I gave you a lift?

- A few months ago, I guess.

- I suppose, yeah… well, let’s go then.

- So, how are you?

- Good, pretty good. You?

- I’m alright too.

- And, what you been up to?

- Not much. Working hard, saving some money to my trip around Asia.

- Living the dream! That’s great.

- You too, right?

- Nah, I’m just doing the same stuff as usual.

- Exactly, living the dream.

- Ahn…How is Pepper doing?

- She is getting fat. Ah, she bit me the other day on the way to the vet.

- That’s my girl. She’s always been a Rebel.

- Probably because she was abandoned by one of her parents…

- ha-ha.

- Just a joke.

On the radio: “Today is gonna be the day, they are gonna throw it back to you”

- Hey, don’t you hate Osasis?

“By now, you should somehow realize what you gotta do…”

- Ahn…This song is alright and…yeah, go on, make it louder. Mind the traffic though. You are still not the best driver.

- I know. But I’m much better now. I’ve been driving everywhere. And I haven’t crashed or anything for a long time.

“And all the roads we have to walk along are winding”

- Since that time in my garage.

- That’s right. That was the last time I…crushed.

- That was not long ago…

“There are many things that I would like to say to you”

- Long enough

- Not enough to crush again, I hope.

- Definitely not.

- Do you remember that dream you had?

- Which one?

- That one about me.

“Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me?”

- Right. Which one?

- The one I was kissing a blond girl…And you shouted ate us…

- What did I shout?

“And after all...”

- You know what you shouted.

- Tell me anyway…

“You are my wonderwall”

- That I’d never be able to have a hard on with her.

- Ha-ha. What do you need to ask?

- What was she like?

- *Sigh*

- Did u hear me?

- Why you asking that?

- I…Just want to know if it is a coincidence or what…

- Were you not able to have an erection with your new girlfriend?

- No I mean...She is not my girlfriend.

- I don’t remember her face. And I don’t want to hear about it. Unless you dick really didn’t work.

- Oh shut up! You know me.

- Tell me then.

- We’d better not…It might be odd.

- Yes. Well, it is odd already.

- What is odd?

- This.

- Should I just go?

- We are not at the shopping center yet.

- No problem.

- I don’t want you to go.

- But you said it is odd.

- It will be odder if you leave the car now.

- Maybe I should never have got on.

- Maybe I should drop you at this salon over there…

- This is never gonna end, is it?

- I hope not…Acting normal would be just…

- Odd?

Living the dream

2010-10-10T23:44:00.001-03:00

Imagine a world full of Picassos, Beethovens and Shakespeares. An entire world of best-sellers and number ones. A world where all your dreams come true because anyone can do anything. Now look around, all of us can become musicians, photographers and artists. This is the wonderful world we live in. Kids are recording their own music at home and becoming celebrities on the internet. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with talent. It is all the new gadgets and software that allow us to do these amazing things. What seems to be the problem is what we have been doing with all this technology. Although it makes life much easier, it is difficult to tell whether we are using it in our favor or not. It is clear that things are no longer as good as they used to be. Just listen to the radio to see that! It is, of course, a matter of opinion. For some people quality might not be as important, but we should draw a line there. And talent should not be mistaken with technology. First, we are going to see how technology has changed our lives and then how these changes have affected us.

New machines such as digital cameras and I pods do make our lives much more interesting. Being able to listen to your favorite songs on the way back home or playing on-line games with your friends are great things. And the low cost of downloads, games and digital print makes things even better. Technology has made everything easier for everybody: professionals and average people. A graphic designer, for example, used to take hours to draw something simple like a coke can. Nowadays, it won’t take more than 20 minutes using Photoshop or Illustrator. And it probably looks much better. Photographers have neither time nor money for film developing anymore. It is much more convenient having a fast and functional 12 mega pixels machine. It is easier, quicker and it makes any job much more pleasuring. And in addiction to that, gadgets are becoming very cheap and their commands very simple, so anyone can use them. And that is when things started to go wrong.

Technology has taken away all the buzz of it and changed our concepts in a very bad way; nowadays everything goes and talent is no longer necessary. Artists have lost their identity because the software is the same for everyone. The shutter release works in the same way for everybody. And that is all we have to do nowadays. Press a button. There is no thinking anymore. Therefore what was supposed to make things easier, made things dull. And that is not all, consumption has increased a lot. Like Oscar Wilde said once, people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Every year new gadgets are lunched, every time better than the last. And we buy them because our old stuff are no longer good. We pile up more and more objects every year. Even the music has changed; Freddie Mercury has predicted that all we hear is radio Gaga. And there she is, with two Grammy Awards, millions of downloads, a poker face and a lot of Auto-tune.

Technology is not at all an evil thing, but it is clear that it has not been used properly. In the end, it is all about selling. Art, music, books, it does not matter if they are good or not. We need to consume it all. That is what we have become.There is no emotion or pleasure. You listen to some song for a few days and think this is the best thing someone could ever write and then, suddenly, you cannot even recall its name. All the pictures you have taken were seen once and then never again. The latest gadgets are just the same as the old ones and the new albums are not different from the others either. It seems to be too late to change the world now, but we can still change some habits. Just for a start, it is important to know what we like and what we dislike. What we need to have and what we do not. Technology can help you become better. If we know how to use it, we will know the real value of things.

Recriando Leminski

2010-05-14T00:13:00.007-03:00

É tudo o que sinto
Inverno
é tudo o que sinto
Viver
é suncinto
É tudo o que sinto
Inferno
É onde eu vivo
Sobreviver
É conciso

-
Amar é um elo
entre o azul
e o amarelo

Verde é um elo
entro o azul
e o amarelo

-
Não fosse isso
e era menos
Não fosse tanto
e era quase

Não fosse rico
era solteiro
Não fosse tonto
não casava

-
Coração
PRA CIMA
Escrito em baixo
FRAGIL

Papelão
FRAGIL
este lado
PARA CIMA

Closer than you think

2010-05-03T00:43:00.000-03:00

Everyday I go to the same place. A place you surely go too. It is a big orange building in the city center and there are lots of rooms in it. There are stairs and lifts. Books and computers. There is a place to eat and another to read. I go there because I am good at something. Something we are both good at: English! I am a professional in English Language! Everyday I get my stuff and meet you there. I always go, but you miss our meeting sometime.

You like reading, writing and talking in a different language and my job is to help you, which can be hard. I see you are sleepy sometimes or talking to someone else or maybe it is just not as easy for you. But I try it, in several different ways. I explain, I give examples and I can even speak in Portuguese which I prefer not to. I like using the net. I often receive e-mails from you and your colleagues who have questions about English and I happily answer them! I will always be there to help you all.

I know you might think lots of things of me; some may be true, some not. You may say I am a joker or a bit sarcastic. You can even dislike my hair. But the thing that really bothers me is that you call me by the function I have. I think you forget I have a name and surname. Why do I think that? You simply do not use it. Actually I think you forget I am a human being and not just a professional in English grammar and phonology and morphology and etc; but that is part of my job, you know nothing about my personal life. But apart from all the things you might find, we know I am good at what I do, which is great so I will never be out of business.

Saint Patrick's

2010-04-26T01:24:00.005-03:00

It was Saint Patrick's Day at Blue Valley College. The teacher, a young good-looking irish man, had promised his students an extra point for those dressed in green clothing:

"Steve, are you in green? Oh yes you are...one point!How about Caroline?Olive green, very nice!"

At the bottom of the classroom something attracts the handsome man attention. He looks at a girl.She has a long blond hair and her eyes are looking at her notebook. She is wearing a black dress and a denim jacket:

"Anabelle, you are not wearing green."

The student replies looking into his eyes showing a cheeky smile:

"Actually teacher, I am."

Direito ao grito

2010-02-12T12:11:00.001-02:00

Essa é a historia de uma garota que tinha amigos e família: O pai, a Mãe e um irmão. Tinha um cachorro e um computador. Tinha carro, quarto, roupas e sapatos. Tinha tudo, e ter era tudo que tinha.

Não era triste porque não sabia ser. Aprendeu desde cedo a ser feliz. Às vezes se olhava no espelho. Mas não gostava. Mergulhava no castanho dos olhos e sentia-se descoberta, invadindo a própria privacidade. Por isso também não olhava para os olhos em volta, não queria lhes faltar com respeito, nem acabar com o mistério que eles escondem.

Dava-se bem com as pessoas e nunca fez inimigos. Não sabia brigar com ninguém. Na verdade, havia um monte de coisas que não sabia. Não sabia pintar, ou tocar piano, não era boa em matemática e não jogava bola. Sabia nadar, porque aprendeu ainda criança. Também tinha boa memória, decorou um tanto de palavras em Inglês e então as pessoas lhe davam dinheiro para que elas as revelassem. Quase não discutia com os pais, vez ou outra, mas ela sabia que eles só queriam que ela fosse feliz e, portanto, era. Era, mas só por obrigação. Não via motivo. Seus pais, sim, eram felizes porque tinha uma filha feliz. Queria ela também fazê-lo por gosto não por dever.

Amor ela nunca experimentou. Sabia que não era como em filmes. Ouviu várias vezes as colegas de o colégio dizerem: ”Não existe felizes para sempre. O amor dói”. Ela não suportava dor, uma vez bateu o dedinho do pé na quina da mesa e desmaiou de dor. Não tinha interesse em conhecer o amor (tão pouco seus desmaios). Mas teve namorado,alias, trocou de parceiro sete vezes, mas nunca teve filhos. O primeiro namorado tinha orelhas muito grandes. “Nenhuma criança merecia nascer com esse tamanho de orelha. Esse ai não serve pra pai.” O segundo não queria saber de criança. O terceiro, e ela descobriram tarde demais, não tinha a bola esquerda. O quarto já tinha filho, o quinto era mulher, o sexto era virtual e o sétimo a traiu com o leiteiro. Decidiu enfim que se ninguém poderia lhe dar um filho, ela não precisava namorar ninguém.

Um dia decidiu ir à igreja. Talvez se acreditasse em Deus, poderia enfim, dizer porque era feliz. Diria coisas do tipo: “É tão bom viver cercada das obras do Senhor!” Ou então “Não há no mundo melhor companhia que a de meu Deus”. Colado em um poste do centro da cidade, viu um anuncio “CONHEÇA A ASSEMBLÉIA CRISTÃ. PLENA PAZ NO CORAÇÃO DAQUELES QUE CREEM”. Sentiu-se convidada à felicidade pelo homem bem vestido, de terno cinza com um microfone em uma mão e a outra apontando para o céu, na foto do anuncio. Então resolveu ir. Chegando lá, arrumaram-lhe um encosto. Encosto ela sabia, era um espírito que seguia pessoas. Não era boa coisa, não trazia paz porcaria nenhuma. Ficou furiosa com o pastor, foi embora deixando o espírito na porta da Assembléia Cristã e exigiu que ele não a seguisse.

Chegou em casa, vestiu-se das melhores roupas que tinha entrou no carro e foi encontrar alguns amigos (ou aquelas pessoas que te levam pra festas e pedem dinheiro emprestado).Sentia-se como em um comercial de bebida: todos bem vestidos e rindo como se não houvesse amanhã.Se felicidade fosse uma imagem, seria essa. Um comercial de bebida. Como se a vodka, transparente como água pura, fosse uma poção mágica. Nesse dia, tomou tanta água que acordou no hospital. Acordou agitada, sem memória, com dor de cabeça. Nenhum amigo no quarto, só seus pais. E eles não pareciam felizes. Nem ela. Sentia que os havia decepcionado e isso foi motivo para que ficasse triste.

Descobriu então, que nunca seria boa alcoólatra (religiosa, ou mãe) nem boa pessoa talvez fosse. E felicidade não era coisa pra ela. Deveria apenas fazer o que fazia melhor, ser o que era. Matéria orgânica, que respira, come, fala e anda. Que não bebe, não reproduz e não crê. Que não tem respostas. Tem apenas vida. Mas não sabe o que fazer com ela.

HAIKAIS DE GATO

2010-02-10T23:32:00.006-02:00

De noite, de dia

ele mia um pedido

Agua da pia!

ouvir seu ronrrono

também me deixou com sono

Choveu,

uma vez

um gato siames

Fevereiro

A noite quente

é um cativeiro

Challenge

2009-12-09T08:53:00.005-02:00

We've got to go.

No, we don't.

I do.

No, you don't.

I'd like to.

You go then.

Without you?

Well, did you expect me to follow you to hell? I won't stay here forever, that's true...But I'm not leaving now.I'll miss you, of course. However, if you have to go, then go.

I'll call. And tell you about everything..

I'd rather you didn't.

Should I e-mail you then?

Whatever.

You know this attitude is not going to change my decision, don't you?

Wanna bet?

Fã Club

2009-11-16T01:37:00.004-02:00

Gente, esse post não tem nada a ver com o resto do blog mas, eu precisava posta essa foto em algum lugar, então...

Esse aí do lado é o Henrique, sócio n°5884 do Club do seu Boneco, personagem do programa Escolinha do professor Raimundo da antiga rede Manchete, e grande fã desde pequeno. Ele entrou para o Club aos quatro anos de idade mas nunca frequentou o lugar ou se quer teve contato com outro Fã. Vamos ajudar-lo a encontrar os outros 5mil sócios para que o Club possa retomar suas atividades.

O Lugar, criado na decada de oitenta, era frequentado por fãs que se reuniam e trocavam papel de carta e informações sobre o personagem mendigo e outros criados por Chico Anísio e interpretados por seus filhos.

Henrique, hoje com 20 anos, diz que a admiração pelo personagem existe e que vai continuar procurando por outros fãs. Ao ser perguntado o que ele gostaria de fazer quando os encontrasse, ele apenas sorriu e disse: "eu vou pra galera!"

Spice it up

2009-11-03T00:15:00.005-02:00

Mr and Mrs Carey had been married for 5 years .The relationship was going well and they were always trying new stuff as to make things more interesting. However, Marcel Carey thought it was about time to make an old Fantasy (men’s most common fantasy) true:
"Sweetheart…?"

"Yes, Marcel?"

Replies his wife not taking her eyes off the computer screen
"Don't you think it's asbout time we tried something new?"
"What do you mean babe? Do you want to order chinese? You don't like chinese..."

"No, I don't mean food!"

"Then what honey?"

"Oh, you know what I mean…"

The husband looks at her lifting up his thick eyebrows and smiling. More enthusiastic than surprised, Mrs Carey takes of her glasses and turns to her husband:
"Do you have any suggestions, dear?"

"Well, you know…for the past 5 years, it’s been only me and you…In bed…Apart from that time with the dog, but it doesn’t count…anyway…i’m not complaining, really…It’s great! I just thought tha maybe...We could try something new or….SOMEONE new."
"Like a threesome?"
"Ahhh, yes dear.You got it right…"

And he regrets saying anything
"Humm, really? Do you think we need that? I mean….I understand you want to spice things up but…wouldn’t it be kinda…..weird?"
"Ahh, we don’t need that,I just...I don't know…Could be nice… But, it’s ok if you don’t want to…"
"Hum…I dunno hun."
"How about…a friend of yours? Would that make you feel more comfortable?"
"Ah, maybe….

She replies a little bit more keen on the idea

"Yeah, I think we could do that…So, who should I call first? Mike or Steve?"

Geni the cat and the old bathroom

2009-10-28T21:24:00.001-02:00

Abri a porta, sentei e então examinei o local… Um banheiro branco e sujo, o box deve ter a largura de duas caixas de sapatos. Estava em um prédio bastante velho.O apartamento no sexto andar servia há alguns meses como moradia para um grupo de universitários e seu bichinho de estimação, a gata Geni. Acabei ali por acaso… O amigo de um amigo morava ali e a gente precisava de um lugar para cair depois da bebedeira. Eu não sei o nome da rua em que estava, era uma travessa da Augusta e tinha nome de mulher. Sentada no vaso sujo, termino de mijar as ultimas garrafas de cerveja do dia.Depois da meia noite só beberíamos destilados.Fixei meus olhos na parede branca de azulejo e percorri toda sua extensão ate encontrar o vitrô,quadrado e enferrujado, de canto.Imaginei quantas transas estas paredes haviam suportado.Respirave-se AIDS naquele banheiro. Meus olhos descem ao chão.Quantos bêbados já engatinharam por ali?Encontrei, quase por pisar nela, a caixa de areia do gato. Contaram-me que antes o gato cagava na água, mas a Mari(seria mesmo Mari, seu nome?) decidiu que o gato ia cagar na areia.E como a ela é a única leonina da casa, todos,inclusive o gato, tiveram que se acostumar com a idéia (e o cheiro).

Home

2009-10-20T00:39:00.002-02:00

Passado a tontura, abri os olhos lentamente e a imagem a minha frente fez descer um frio na espinha. Estava em um hospício. Jogado em meio a um salão gigante e de paredes brancas. Minhas mãos suavam frio e apesar de não entender, achei o lugar até que familiar. A minha volta pessoas riam e dançavam. Outros se abraçavam carinhosamente, como se abraça um irmão. Levantei da cadeira de madeira tentando lembrar onde estava. Sentado no chão no meio da sala um cara olhava para o chão segurando o próprio dedo indicador, senti uma simpatia por aquela pessoa, tão perdida quanto eu. Franzi a sobrancelha e isso deve ter causado um relapso de consciência porque a tontura voltou por um segundo e meu coração bateu mais forte. Estava em casa e a sala havia se transformado em uma casa para loucos. Alguns rostos familiares passavam por mim lançando olhares carinhos e sorrisos débeis. O que me deixa nervoso. Estava quase convencido que era um sonho quando aquela moça me despertou quase me fazendo rir.Ela me parou segurando firme meus braços e disse em voz alta e aguda:
"Essa é a melhor festa dos últimos meses"
"obrigado" respondi.

Kurt Cobento

2009-10-20T00:10:00.001-02:00

Quadrinho por Anderson Ventura
http://www.flickr.com/photos/der_elpaso

Sacramenta

2009-10-05T09:05:00.001-03:00

Os bares e restaurantes estão fechando, e os poucos que ainda freqüentam esse lado da cidade, já estão de volta para casa. Não se vê mais ninguém, se não um grupo de sem-tetos: eles cantam alto e dançam em volta de uma senhora muito velha enquanto tomam um vinho embalado em garrafa plástica.A senhora veste uma saia comprida e colorida e dança junto aos rapazes. Apenas um homem de barba comprida e branca está sentado, encostado numa coluna fria de concreto, tocando um violão de três cordas.
Por de baixo de um viaduto, duas silhuetas, criadas pela luz amarela dos postes, se aproximam. Um casal circula pelas ruas escuras do centro. A garota toma a frente, e puxa o rapaz pelo braço. Passam pelo grupo ignorando a musica e a dança andando depressa em direção ao ponto de taxi. Um carro branco se aproxima. O rapaz tenta convencer a namorada a voltar, mas ela resiste e eles entram. A noite está quente, mas ela veste um casaco preto e brilhante amarrado na cintura fina, o primeiro botão aberto, exibe um belo decote. As pernas, escondidas dentro do tecido sintético da meia fio 40, equilibram-se em um par de sapatos dourados, a mesma cor de seus cabelos, longos e lisos. O rapaz está vestindo uma camisa branca amassada por ter sido arrancada de dentro das calças cujo ziper está aberto. Ele tem grande olhos verdes e o cabelo penteado com gel. Ele afrouxa a gravata e suspira nervoso:
- Boa noite.
-Boa noite. - Respondo o taxista. - E vão pra onde? – A moça faz sinal com a cabeça para o namorado, pedindo que responda.
- É…Sabe…O…Mo-motel Volúpia ?– Ele responde com timidez. – Fica na Antonio Pinheiro Galvão. – A moça sorri e segura a mão do namorado, contente.
- Sei sim, na Sacramenta.Na primeira saída da Av Brasil. Vai dar mais ou menos uns 20 min.
Surpreso, o rapaz então se vira para a namorada e esboça um sorriso. Volta para o motorista e diz com ar de ironia:
- Ah!Então… O senhor sabe?

Lovestruck

2009-09-30T00:26:00.000-03:00

It is Friday afternoon in the capital City; the time is 4.25.After a week of hard work, people could have gone to a bar for a happy hour, but in this afternoon it seems as if the whole working class has decided to go home and rest. The underground train stops at the Northern Gate Station. There are people moving along the car, jostling each other, trying to get on and off the crowded train. Ram Mahal is sitting reading the paper when he notices someone looking at him. Someone who might have just got on the train and was lucky enough to get a seat or someone who has been sitting there for a while but Ram could not see that because there were people standing in front of him. He looks back and sees a pair of green eyes matching a pair of perfectly shaped eyebrows. He sees a small nose and small ears. He sees a dark slender neck and a long golden chain. Finally, he sees a smile, the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. His hands are sweaty and his heart is beating fast. Ram knows something has beaten him.

He thinks he must have found love and he cannot let it go. This might be his only chance. He thinks about talking to the person, but he would not know what to say. He thinks he could ask for the time, but he realises he has his watch on. He looks at it, it says 4.30 pm. He hopes they both get off at the same station.
For the next thirteen minutes, Ram only thinks about what to do. Someone asks him a piece of information, someone else asks if he is going to read the newspaper, which is now rolled-up into his hands. He does not answer. He is not listening to them; all he thinks about are those green eyes in front of him. He cannot help gazing at them. Suddenly, the green eyed person gets up, flashes him a smile and leaves the train. Ram is shocked. He cannot believe his beloved has left him behind. He tries to stand up but his legs give way. They are shaking too much. He tries to say something but no words come out. He feels sad, as if his heart had broken into small pieces. The owner of those eyes is standing on the platform, waving at him, still smiling. He does not wave back.

Two days have passed, Ram didn’t do much during the weekend, he could have gone out. But he did not feel like it. He is still thinking about those green eyes. He regrets not doing anything. If only he could have said something. He would have asked for their phone number. It is Monday afternoon, the time is 4.25pm. Ram is on the underground, with the paper in his hands. The train stops at the Northern Gate station. He looks around but the green eyes are not there. He opens the paper on a random page. It is the love section. On the bottom of the page, in big red letters he reads the word LOVESTRUCK. Under it, ads of single people looking for other single people. Ram gives the first and second ad a quick look, but he’s stopped dead in his tracks as he looks at the third ad:
“To the Asian guy sitting in front of me on the Yellow line on the 23rd March at about 4.30pm. I got on at Northern Gate. I saw you were reading the love section so I thought you might see this ad. We exchanged looks and I waved at you as I got off at Central Station. I wish you had spoken to me. Would you like to go for a drink sometime?”
Ram could not be happier.

Olá novo endereço

2009-09-27T23:22:00.000-03:00

Endereço novo. O blog.com estava dando muito problemas.( além do blogger ser mais prático)
O endereço antigo http://foreplay.blog.com continua ativo, até eu terminar de re-postar os texto para o endereço novo.
Espero que gostem,
beijos!
x