My Oh Please Stop Post

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My Different Post

No words to be added... just thoughts...

My Thin Line between Sophisticated and Depressive

By now you should know that I am seated in the floor of my living room side by side with a bottle of wine… The bottle is empty already… Once again I claim freedom of speech and introduce the fact that the bottle was not full when I start this activity… I don't see me as a drunken person… I don't see this as I a bragging situation… I just see this as the way it is… I see pleasure… I see the thin line between a sophisticated environment and a depressive scenario… These lights should be trimmed instead of incur is laziness taking off my shoes, one by one, it is funny once the only way to take them off is one by one and never a higher number because you never have, in most case scenarios, a higher number of shoes to take off in sequence. Never two by two… unless you have a great night endeavoring for entertainment and you are the actor with the major acting role… if you know what I mean once I do not have the intention of being more explicit. This is not the wine talking, is just the current conversation in-between my minds… yes I do have more than one mind… and they constantly struggle about the pieces of garbage I should proclaim and point out in a digital piece of paper. The good part for the green mind is that no arm is done to environment. I am not kidding; I do have a green mind… I hope you all do. No matter it is only awake for five minutes a day… Obviously is not ideal but even if I am extremely demanding I can concede, if I am humble enough to do that, the experiment of not being 100% green once I guess no one is, and 5% green is better than 0%. Oh, poor of spirit those who don't even try to think green. I let myself be dragged outside the scope of this writing project which is being choked by my laziness just by the simple fact that I still have not got and not opened a new fresh bottle of (a different) red wine to continue enhancing this non-alcoholic writing eloquence. And also, the liking to merge in such liquids corpse with my tongue part. I shout about being a French bohemian artist in this last sentence I think… Well I am not… Even if I think about such style… I guess this nonsense words are enough… I should take off my echoing headphones drug, lift up and get that new bottle…

I introduce yourselves to my drunkenness… a healthy one…

My Laudatory Writing to Perfume

Today I feel like writing. Not necessarily about nothing or anything, which this might be one of the best aspects to write about. This is not my first time. I feel like writing a lot. From anger to despair. Oddly two examples from what I claim detachment. It must be due to alphabetically order and there are several others in between. That must be it. I feel a bit rusty on this. I shall impose to myself a weekly based writing. No, it must be natural. It must flow. Flow like a non-dried river would flow in the middle of any Season. Like the morning breathe which allow us to smell the fresh baked bread coming from somewhere we cannot identify once our senses are still trying to gather. At least as I imagine it would be if I live somewhere around some bakery and not in some street of light where you can inhale the fresh pollution for the morning while the odor of animal feces (ahah…feces…always makes me laugh) embraces you with a cozy welcome to the street. Thank God for the old lady, ok so she maybe is not that old, I am not sure, but she is older than me or at least I hope she is older than me, or poor her, the old lady who lives in the walking odor perfume that inhabits in my building, to be more accurate, in the building in which I also inhabit.

My Irresponsible Smile

I don't usually smile, or maybe I do… I guess sometimes I don't really know it anymore and I get confused… I think I like smiling, from heart... Or is it just a pale reflection from others around? I tease and I mock as I proclaim humour, happiness and optimism but how much of that is not just a strong arm wrestling against something I cannot even define? Today I feel like a walking contradiction to those assumptions that I don't even feel the joy while writing... I feel lost in a blended emotional/rational compound and I start thinking that emotionless is from where I should not had left... Oh, I was so glad I left and re-learned to smile and uncontrollable smile... This probably looks like an insane despair once I want to continue smiling even though I might feel that would be irresponsible...

My Second Year

João can now seat...

Peacefully...

He grabs his headphones... Finally!

Some time for himself... Press play...

I had these two tiring working days, from 9am (yesterday) to almost 8pm (today) with not a huge amount of sleeping hours, about 4 hours of sleep... and after cleaning kitchen from previous dinners and inclusively having dinner... here I sit... in this so called padded chair with the laptop atop my legs (laptop atop?...is that correct english?...I liked it...)... Suddenly a sad, but beautiful, song starts playing in my iTunes... Portuguese group... The Gift... usually they sing in English, but this one I am hearing is in Portuguese... Fácil de Entender...I am in a quiet, calm, ease state of mind... It feels really good... Just want to close my eyes and leave the purest thoughts flow from each hidden corner of my spirit with no control about any of them... To get lost... Picturing the breathe confronting each single pore in my face, probably even rain drops when lying down in the grass... Today is the day completing my second year and I am far and I am tired... (incomplete writing...)

My Indescribable Truth

Oh yes it is exploding, not literally, but it is, in any way that something indescribable can explode. I know it is too vague or probably too insane but it is what it is, even if it is indescribable or even if it is nothing concrete. I blush and I fade as I boil in confusion with what creates these urges connected with what seems a passion invading my life. My so fucked up rational life shakes easily as a gigantic castle of cards is blown away with the wind. Oh it feels good, so damn good. It almost seems that floating is possible as some passionate teenager in his fifteens. I am considerably lost in my guided/oriented/organized life. I want to feel the world and I want to fill the world. Break the chains and follow the unpredictable toughness with no expectations, building the life... actually not building anything, anything at all, just collecting the experiences and the opportunities with no regrets even if that makes me selfish. So let me be selfish, oh please let me be; while I enjoy loving what can be offered to me so that I can believe in karma once I also childishly believe favours should not be paid back but paid forward. I know I said I am rational. I am not. I should have stayed longer. I love this passion and I thank.

My 'Just Because...'

Just because it is echoing inside my mind...