Sonhos Caligráficos

I knew pigeons died in the same abstract way one knows, for example, that pedestrians die. You hear about it, you can rationalize the fact that it is true, they must sometimes die, considering the risks and all. But if you haven’t seen it happen, the idea is as thin as air. And if something is intangible, it’s as good as if it didn’t exist.                 That morning, the death of pigeons came into existence for me. Happily trotting along my usual path, I encountered a dead pigeon. Crushed would be a more accurate description. You could barely tell it was a pigeon, or that it had ever been one, if it weren’t for the wings. Two widespread white wings, plastered on the pavement, on top of the zebra crossing. There wasn’t blood, guts or any sort of gory evidence of its once-living nature; just two white wings and a gray mass where the body should have been. It seemed hopelessly poetic: wings that once crossed the skies plastered to the ground.                 The next day, I p

I wish they had told me how hard it was to be young. I wish I had learned in school about this sad phase of uncertainty that was going to taint me if I chose the road less traveled by. If I didn't get into uni like many of the others, if I breathed in and out instead of just rushing with life without even breathing as I would have done otherwise. I wish I knew how bitter uncertainty would taste so that I could be prepared, so that I could know it's a passing phase and all. I don't really believe my future is dark but I have no real proof I'm on the right track, and if I could only find an indication of that. I have no idea what to do with myself in order to be useful, to become a productive citizen of life and the world and not simply a mediocre working ant, I want to produce yes but not for the system, I won't work for capitalism or the government, I want to work for people for my community my elders my children things that I believe in, I want to serve happiness. 

Decisões atribulam a vida dos seres humanos desde os primórdios do tempo, e depois de todos estes anos de evolução ainda não dominamos a arte de tomá-las sempre com sabedoria. Talvez também pelo fato de que as coisas sobre as quais decidir mudaram, e com elas se intensificou a incerteza e a possibilidade de errar. A angústia de escolher entre isto ou aquilo, angústia de ser ou não ser, eis a questão.  É inegável que decisões podem ser classificadas em níveis de dificuldade. Se são particulares ou públicas, a curto, médio ou longo prazo, com base em informação ou emoção e mais três mil fatores devem ser levados em conta na sua classificação. Mas de maneira geral, podemos dizer que decisões se dividem, grosso modo, entre grandes e pequenas. Grandes costumam ser aquelas que terão efeito na sua vida a longo prazo e/ou causarão mudanças drásticas no plano presente; pequenas são as demais, que precisam ser feitas por motivos logísticos mas realmente não mudariam a ordem mundial. Porém, al

Happiness seemed unachievable sometimes, when the day woke gray and raining, the world in tranquil rest under the drops of water. And then soon enough there was a cluster of daisies and it seemed like happiness was just hiding around the corner. Like a silly child, playing hide and seek with me - all I had to do was walk a bit more and I'd spot her. But then she would have already hid in a different place, and I'd have to search again.