A vida é aquilo que acontece enquanto nós fazemos outros planos.
Quem o disse foi John Lennon!
E eu subscrevo.
Como o Acaso Comanda as Nossas vidas, Stefan Klein
Clicar na imagem para ampliar
WTF? :)
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(aceitam-se mais sugestões)
That's me!
A post-war laboratory
Clothing that remain with time, clothing that is intriguing in a deeper sense.
All of the senses.
Emotional person.
Scrap of antique cloth.
Modern alchemism.
The ease of it, the way it can mold or blanket your body.
Shapes and forms that collapse on the body.
To touch a person in the most raw and instinctual way.
... pick up the pieces and bring it close to their noses, to smell or just to get closer.
Beauty is subtlety, a piece of clothing aged on a person, where it takes their form, the shape of their body, where the wear and color are changed with exposure, where it becomes an imprinted by the person that wears it...that is beauty to me at the moment.
Mais aqui.
Exacto: the improvement of sensual enjoyment
The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true;
As I have heard from hell.
The whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite and holy, where as it now seems finite and corrupt.
This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment.
If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
É nos nossos cérebros que os fantasmas aparecem, não nas nossas casas
Até hoje, os psiquiatras e filólogos discutem sobre se o dramaturgo [August Strindberg] terá mesmo sido um doente mental ou apenas um homem profundamente sensível e exaltado. [...] As pessoas com perturbações da personalidade de cariz paranóico procuram por todo o lado significados ocultos, têm uma confiança ilimitada no seu próprio saber e desconfiam dos outros. Pode parecer pouco simpático, mas o pensamento paranóico também tem o seu valor. Não serão essas tendências que caracterizam o estilo de muitos grandes escritores? Os poetas são visionários que com a sua percepção apuradíssima captam processos e acontecimentos em que os outros nem sequer reparam. [...] Na verdade, sem uma porção equilibrada de pensamento paranóico os próprios cientistas mal chegariam às suas conclusões. [...] Afinal de contas só se torna esperto quem sente dentro de si o desejo de reconhecer um sentido no mundo.
Como o Acaso Comanda as Nossas vidas, Stefan Klein
E, ainda a propósito disto, Shelley Carson e Jordan Peterson chegaram a algumas conclusões a respeito de "Génio, loucura e portas da percepção"
Mensagem encriptada / Muuuuuita dopamina no hemisfério direito / quicksands
Do you really think it's worth while wasting your precious time with me?
Why? Am I some kind of object of interest?
No hard feelings.
(to whom the shoe may fit)
O Homem Lúcido
O homem lúcido sabe que a vida é uma carga tamanha de acontecimentos e emoções que nunca se entusiasma com ela, assim como não teme a morte. O homem lúcido sabe que viver e morrer são o mesmo em matéria de valor, posto que a Vida contém tantos sofrimentos que a sua cessação não pode ser considerada um mal.
O homem lúcido sabe que é o equilibrista na corda bamba da existência. Sabe que, por opção ou acidente, é possível cair no abismo, a qualquer momento, interrompendo a sessão do circo.
Pode também o homem lúcido optar pela Vida. Aí então, ele esgotará todas as suas possibilidades. Passeará por seu campo aberto e por suas vielas floridas. Saberá ver a beleza em tudo. Terá amantes, amigos, ideais. Urdirá planos e os realizará. Resistirá aos infortúnios e até às doenças. E, se atingido por algum desses emissários, saberá suportá-los com coragem e mansidão.
Morrerá o homem lúcido de causas naturais e em idade avançada, cercado por filhos e netos que seguirão sua magnífica aventura. Pairará então, sobre sua memória uma aura de bondade. Dir-se-á: aquele amou muito e fez bem às pessoas.
A justa lei máxima da natureza obriga que a quantidade de acontecimentos maus na vida de um homem iguale-se sempre à quantidade de acontecimentos favoráveis. O homem lúcido que optou pela Vida, com o consentimento dos Deuses, tem o poder magno de alterar esta lei. Na sua vida, os acontecimentos favoráveis estarão sempre em maioria.
Esta é uma cortesia que a Natureza faz com os homens lúcidos.
(obrigada ACL por ter sido através de ti que fiquei a conhecer este homem)
For my friends
There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red
clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the
mare's foal and the cow's calf,
And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and the
beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became part of him.
The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him,
Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the
esculent roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees cover'd with blossoms and the fruit afterward,
and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road,
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the
tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that pass'd on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass'd, and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek'd girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.
His own parents, he that had father'd him and she that had conceiv'd
him in her womb and birth'd him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him.
The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the supper-table,
The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a wholesome
odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by,
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger'd, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the
yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsay'd, the sense of what is real, the
thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious
whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not flashes
and specks what are they?
The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods in the windows,
Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank'd wharves, the huge crossing at
the ferries,
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river between,
Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of
white or brown two miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little
boat slack-tow'd astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color'd clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away
solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon's edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh
and shore mud,
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who
now goes, and will always go forth every day.
Walt Whitman
Identity in the Age of the Internet
"But many of these same ideas no longer seem abstract or esoteric when you immerse yourself in life on the Internet. For example, the idea that you are constituted by and through language is not an abstract idea if you're confronted with the necessity of creating a character in a MUD. You just have to do it. Your words are your deeds, your words are your body. And you feel these word-deeds and this word-body quite viscerally. Similarly, the idea of multiplicity as a way of thinking about identity is concretized when someone gets an Internet account, is asked to name five "handles" or nicknames for his activities on the system, and finds himself "being" Armani-boy in some online discussions, but Motorcycle-man, Too-serious, Aquinas, and Lipstick in others."
When MIT psychologist and sociologist Sherry Turkle was first experimenting with the Internet virtual communities known as MUDs (multiuser domains) she came across a character named Dr. Sherry. This Dr. Sherry had a room set up as an office in the MUD where it was said she interviewed people and handed out questionnaires about the psychology of online life. Turkle was taken aback by this, because Dr. Sherry wasn't her or hers. "It was like someone else had used my name as a trademark to mean 'cybershrink,'" she recalls.
The Edge
