Me

Emptiness

Life

“We’re all walking around with these glossy eyes. “I’m just tired,” we say. But, you know what? It’s bullshit. Yes, we are tired, but it’s not all from lack of sleep. We are tired of waking up with nothing to look forward to, tired of going to bed exhausted after doing a million things we find no enjoyment in doing. We’re tired of this void, this emptiness that looms over us even though our days are packed. We’re tired of the loneliness that presses down on us even though we’re surrounded by dozens of people. So why can’t we just say it?

Humans are so afraid to look into each other’s eyes and say “I am unhappy, I am broken, I am hopeless and fallible.” We’ve been conditioned to associate pain with weakness, sadness with coldness, loneliness with unworthiness, difference with disease, as if these feelings are contagious, as if ambivalence is something not to be felt but to be feared.

Well, i say screw all of that. Screw forced smiles and polite handshakes and i’m fine, thank yous. Screw the fear of crying in a public place, screw the fake chipper voice, screw the lies we spit out to cover up our problems.

We are humans. We are meant to feel. To feel everything and to feel it all openly. We are not metal—we are flesh and bone. Our boiled blood courses through our cold, clammy hands. we are intricate and beautiful and we should never hide our human parts, because if we do, then what’s left to show?”

By Anonymous.

孤独

"Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty."
-Mother Teresa


"Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them."
-Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper


"Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life's cruelest irony."
-Douglas Coupland, Shampoo Planet

This is not going well, I can't sleep, I can't breath, I'm in actual physical pain. Millions of thoughts at once, yes and no, die and live, go and stay but mostly "why?".
Now as I lay my fingers on the keyboard, the strength to even type something just isn't there, the empty stare into this blank screen shows I know nothing, I mean nothing, just another spec of dust waiting for the wind to finally take me away and be done with it all.

This can't be right, I shouldn't be here. I don't deserve to be here, I don't want to be here anymore. So many people with so much better futures, much better people than me, left my company. The world would be so much better off without me. I'm empty, sad, depressed, lonely, I'm nothing. Please take my place. I give up...

Here we go again...

And so, with just a glimpse, the void returns. What was already a pretty battered and beaten shell of a heart, again, let itself be fooled by that fucking stupid disease called love, and now obviously here I am alone, not loved, not wanted, not needed just continuing to exist for no other purpose than to suffer. 

This pain, I've managed to avoid for quite some time now, as found its way back in. I've fought night and day to avoid feelings rushing in and make me believe in something that will never happen.

The chaos in my head just keeps getting worse, why doesn't anything make sense. The simplest thing evolves into something so complicated that it loses its meaning. Why do we always love what we can’t get, that we know we’ll never have, that we know it doesn't love us?

But then again, why would it ever happen, why would someone care, like, love me. I don’t!

I don’t want to give up but sometimes it’s really hard, some days nearly impossible, and today is one of those days. 

There is no hope, no love, no happiness, in the end only death...

To Survive

Wish I could run away from this pain I feel
Falling out of love can be so unreal
It starts out as everything
And ends up the worst kind of nothing
After all's said and done we just had to stop trying
I couldn't take any more but still it kill me it dying

Did I let you down or just let you go
For as long as I live I swear I'll never know
Caught between love and hate
Destruction our only fate
Through it all there'll always be a place in my heart
For the love you gave me and where you tore it apart

Baby I had to leave
Tho' still it makes my soul bleed
Baby I had to go
Tho' the pain inside
You'll never, never, never know

To survive, to survive, to survive

From "To Survive" - Lou Rhodes (Beloved One)

Sadness

Sad Poem
I feel you in the morning
When at first I awake
Your thought is with me
With each decision I make

You'd been around forever
Since the first breath I took
Now I have to go on alone
But for love, I need not look

Cause by what you bestowed
In our short time together
Will last in my heart
Forever and ever

Although you've left
And now walk above
I'm never alone
I'm wrapped in your love

Enjoy now your long waited reward
Feel peace that your love continues on
What was taught to me, will be taught to mine
Cause you live on in me even after you've gone

Unknown Author

Poem

Failure
How many more things can go wrong?
I make so many mistakes and don't seem to ever learn from them
Nothing goes right
I'm on a downward spiral
There's no way to stop
No one can help
Only I can do it, but I can't cope on my own
People try to help, but I still mess up
I can't do anything right
I can't control myself
I have a problem
But how do I define it?
Why can't I stop?
Is there a cure?
I don't understand what's wrong with me
To find the cure, I need to find the cause
The cause is deep within myself

A poem by DefinitiveFreak

Uma tarde "artística"!

1º - Rui e Sérgio
2º - Rui e Ricardo

Estúpidos?! Nada disso...

Vejam bem isto!


Ficaram sem palavras?! Eu também.

Criancinhas

“A criancinha quer Playstation. A gente dá.

A criancinha quer estrangular o gato. A gente deixa.

A criancinha berra porque não quer comer a sopa. A gente elimina-a da ementa e acaba tudo em festim de chocolate.

A criancinha quer bife e batatas fritas. Hambúrgueres muitos. Pizzas, umas tantas. Coca-Colas, às litradas. A gente olha para o lado e ela incha.

A criancinha quer camisola adidas e ténis nike. A gente dá porque a criancinha tem tanto direito como os colegas da escola e é perigoso ser diferente.

A criancinha quer ficar a ver televisão até tarde. A gente senta-a ao nosso lado no sofá e passa-lhe o comando.

A criancinha desata num berreiro no restaurante. A gente faz de conta e o berreiro continua.

Entretanto, a criancinha cresce. Faz-se projecto de homem ou mulher.

Desperta.

É então que a criancinha, já mais crescida, começa a pedir mesada, semanada, diária. E gasta metade do orçamento familiar em saídas, roupa da moda, jantares e bares.

A criancinha já estuda. Às vezes passa de ano, outras nem por isso. Mas não se pode pressioná-la porque ela já tem uma vida stressante, de convívio em convívio e de noitada em noitada.

A criancinha cresce a ver Morangos com Açúcar, cheia de pinta e tal, e torna-se mais exigente com os papás. Agora, já não lhe basta que eles estejam por perto. Convém que se comecem a chegar à frente na mota, no popó e numas férias à maneira.

A criancinha, entregue aos seus desejos e sem referências, inicia o processo de independência meramente informal. A rebeldia é de trazer por casa. Responde torto aos papás, põe a avó em sentido, suja e não lava, come e não limpa, desarruma e não arruma, as tarefas domésticas são «uma seca».

Um dia, na escola, o professor dá-lhe um berro, tenta em cinco minutos pôr nos eixos a criancinha que os papás abandonaram à sua sorte, mimo e umbiguismo.

A criancinha, já crescidinha, fica traumatizada. Sente-se vítima de violência verbal e etc e tal. Em casa, faz queixinhas, lamenta-se, chora. Os papás, arrepiados com a violência sobre as criancinhas de que a televisão fala e na dúvida entre a conta de um eventual psiquiatra e o derreter do ordenado em folias de hipermercado, correm para a escola e espetam duas bofetadas bem dadas no professor «que não tem nada que se armar em paizinho, pois quem sabe do meu filho sou eu».

A criancinha cresce. Cresce e cresce. Aos 30 anos, ainda será criancinha, continuará a viver na casa dos papás, a levar a gorda fatia do salário deles. Provavelmente, não terá um emprego. «Mas ao menos não anda para aí a fazer porcarias».

Não é este um fiel retrato da realidade dos bairros sociais, das escolas em zonas problemáticas, das famílias no fio da navalha? Pois não, bem sei.

Estou apenas a antecipar-me. Um dia destes, vão ser os paizinhos a ir parar ao hospital com um pontapé e um murro das criancinhas no olho esquerdo. E então teremos muitos congressos e debates para nos entretermos.”

In “Visão Online” por Miguel Carvalho

Digam lá se o senhor tem ou não razão!

March 8th!

International Women's Day

A History of International Women's Day: "We Want Bread and Roses Too" from Womankind (March 1972.)

(This is a historical look at the origins of International Women's Day in the USA and how it spread throughout the world.)

International Women's Day, a holiday celebrated world wide, honors working women and women’s struggle everywhere. Taught that women's place in history is relatively undistinguished, it should be a real source of pride and inspiration to American women to know that International Women's Day originated in honor of two all women strikes which took place in the U.S.

On March 8, 1857, garment workers in New York City marched and picketed, demanding improved working conditions, a ten hour day, and equal rights for women. Their ranks were broken up by the police. Fifty-one years later, March 8, 1908, their sisters in the needle trades in New York marched again, honoring the 1857 march, demanding the vote, and an end to sweatshops and child labor. The police were present on this occasion too.

In 1910 at the Second International, a world wide socialist party congress, German socialist Clara Zetkin proposed that March 8th be proclaimed International Women's Day, to commemorate the US demonstrations and honor working women the wor ld over. Zetkin, a renowned revolutionary theoretician who argued with Lenin on women's rights, was considered a grave threat to the European governments of her time; the Kaiser called her “the most dangerous sorceress in the empire."

The labor struggle in the US is an exciting one, but it traditionally concentrates on men. A little examination shows that women carried their weight and their share from the beginning, both supporting the men’s organizing and quite soon, after realizing that women's needs were ignored in the existing unions, forming women's caucuses or all women's unions. The first all women strikes took place in the 1820's in the New England tailoring trades. The idea of women striking and demanding better conditions, decent wages, and shorter hours, apparently provided great amusement to the townsfolk of the peaceful mill towns. It would be interesting to know how our sisters a century and a half ago felt about not having their lives and aspirations taken seriously.

The most famous of the early strikes took place at the Lowell cotton mills in Massachusetts. Here young women worked eighty-one hours a week for three dollars, one and a quarter of which went for room and board at the Lowell company boarding houses. The factories originally opened at 7 am, but fore men,noticing that women were less "energetic" if they ate before working, changed the opening hour to 5 am., with a breakfast break at 7 a.m. (for one-half hour). In 1834, after several wage cuts, the Lowell women walked out, only to return several days later at the reduced rates. They were courageous but the company had the power; a poor record or a disciplinary action could lead to blacklisting. In 1836 they walked out again, singing through the streets of the town:

Oh, isn't it a pity such a pretty girl as I
Should be sent to the factory to pine away and die.

Again they returned to work within a few days. In l844 serious organizing led to the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association. Their prime demand was the ten hour day. The leadership and activity of this union is credited with initiating some of the earliest reforms in the conditions of the textile industries.

In the period of intense labor activity following the Civil War, when widowhood and general hard times forced thousands of women into the labor force, thus causing panic and hostility on the part of men, women found themselves excluded from most of the national trade uniqns. So they formed their own, including the Daughters of St. Crispin, a union of women shoemakers. During this era unions were formed by woman cigar makers, umbrella sewers, and printers, as well as tailoresses and laundresses.

The clothing workers formed some of the most famous unions in U.S. history, notably the International Ladies Garment Workers Union, founded about 1900. The garment trade shops in the big cities, such as New York, were deplorable. Fire hazards were rife, light was scant, the sound of machinery deafening, the environment polluted. Women were fined for virtually anything - talking, laughing, singing, machine oil stains on the fabric, stitches too large or too small. Overtime was constant and required, but pay for it was not. With the support of the National Women's Trade Union League, founded in 1903 - a combination of working women and middle-class, often professional women who supported the working women's struggle - the shirtwaist makers launched a series of strikes against Leiserson and Company and Triangle Waist Company, two of the most notorious shops in New York. Called the "Uprising of the 20,000", these actions culminated in the first long-term general strike by women, putting to death tne tiresome arguments that they were unable to organize and carry out a long hard struggle.

For thirteen weeks in the bitter dead of winter, women between 16 and 25 years of age picketed daily, and daily were clubbed by police and carried off in "Black Maria" police vans. The courts were biased in favor of the sweatshop owners; one magistrate charged a striker, "You are on strike against God and Nature, whose prime law it is that man shall earn his bread in the sweat of his brow. You are on strike against God." This elicited a cablegram from George Bernard Shaw, who with other Europeans was following the course of U.S. labor history. He wrote: "Delightful. Medieval America always in intimate personal confidence of the Almighty."

The strike was ultimately broken, as settlements were made shop by shop, but the talent and endurance of the women made it impossible for people to go on claiming that labor organizing was for men only. One year after the strike was broken the infamous Triangle fire occurred. Trapping women on the upper floors (the fire doors had been bolted from the outside to prevent walkouts by the workers) the fire took l46 lives, most of the women between the ages of 13 and 25, most of them recent emigrants to the U.S.

The employers were tried; one was fined $20. A settlement was made to the families of the dead women for $75 per death. Rose Schneiderman, a Garment Workers organizer, berated the community for supporting the law and institutions that made such tragedies possible. "I know from my own experience that it is up to the working people to save themselves," she proclaimed. "The only way they can save themselves is by a strong working-class movement."

This has been but a fraction of the history of American working women; part of this fraction was enough to inspire an International holiday. Russia first celebrated March 8 after the Revolution; it is not often recognized that one of the major sparks of the Russian Revolution was a mass strike in 1917 by Russian women textile workers. Chinese women began celebrating in l924, paralleling a strong women's movement in the Chinese Communist party. When the women’s liberation movement began in the U.S. and Britain, Women's Day was rediscovered and revived as a feminist holiday. In 1970 the revolutionary Uraguayan Tupamaros celebrated March 8 by freeing 13 women prisoners from Uraguay's jails.

The story of American working women is often tokenly recognized by referring to great heroines of the movement Mother Jones, Ella Reeve Bloor, Kate Mullaney, Sojourner Truth, and Elizabeth Gurley Flynn. These were remarkable women and so were their stories. A good cure for depression is to read a chapter of Flynn's autobiography or reread the account of Mother Jones terrorizing scabs and participating in the 1919 steel strike at the age of 90. But it should not be forgotten that these were individual women, and that the bulk of the' organizing, struggling, as well as succeeding and failing, was done by ordinary women whom we willnever know. These were women who, realized the tactical necessity of standing and working together lest they be destroyed individually, women who put to shame the ridiculous theories of "woman's place'," women who in the famous Lawrence textile strike carried picket signs reading "We want Bread and Roses, too", symbolizing their demands for not only a living wage but a decent and human life, and so inspired James Oppenheim’s song "Bread and Roses"

As we come marching, marching,in the beauty of, the day
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses
For the people hear us singing, Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses

As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days
The rising of the women means the, rising of the race
No more the drudge and idler that toil where one reposes
But a sharing of life's glories, Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses

If my feelings where a song!

Have you ever heard a song and thought it could sum up what you feel?

Well I believe that "Little David Boy" (David Fonseca), had me on his mind when he wrote these two songs.

Both posts are a token of my appreciation for his work. Thank you very much!

------X------

Search Me Not - Silence 4

The pain, the lies, they multiplied
It got too much for me...
I have locked myself inside,
And swallowed up the key
I've closed the lights
I talk all night, I'm such good company
Don't call me home
I've cut the phone; I'm as I wanna be...

Search me not! Please, search me not!
The door bell it hurts my ears
I've nailed my hands to the ground
I feed on in my blood and tears...

I, have tried to socialize
It always got me down
Deceived and hurt by the ones I loved
Why should I stick around?

Search me not! Please, search me not!
The door bell it hurts
I've nailed my hands to the ground
I feed on in my blood...

Search me not! Please, search me not!
I am living such a beautiful thing!
I've nailed my hands to the ground
I'm growing myself some wings

I like to be alone
I do, I love the loneliness

If my wishes where a song!

Take Me Away - Silence 4

How long will I keep this candid camera smile?
My muscles hurt, I'd better rest for a while
Breathing is the only thing that keeps me alive
All this oxygen, crushes me, and leaves me so tight
Let me out...

My pain is leading, I got no control from now
Don't try to help me, I don't want to put you down
All my reasons will be misunderstood,
I wish you well, in here there's nothing good

My heart is rotten with all the worst kinds of diseases
It tries to be better but all it can do is bleed
I'm so tired of myself

Oh God please take me away, oh take me away, and bring someone else

One of my friends believes in what she reads
And she's always talking about the end of the century
But listen, have you ever stopped to realise
That if it happened there would be no one, but no one, to feel alone?
No pain at all...

I should be going, so much damage I've done
So many tears and still a lot more to come
Excuse, don't push my wheel chair
I don't want to go anywhere

My heart is rotten with all the worst kinds of diseases
It tries to be better but all it can do is bleed
I'm so tired of myself

Oh God please take me away, oh bury me away, and bring someone else

Alone, I don't care
And now all I remember is the smell of your hair

An Haiku Poem by Jenn

Spring Storm

In the middle of snow flakes, one black crow huddles. Maple buds cracked white.

All credits for this poem go to Jenn, check out her Blog MuseMother

Sadness, Loneliness, Pain - Haiku Poems

My heart is screaming My mind is celebrating. This divided self.	The power is out. I push, my body resists. I can go no further.
Morning or mourning The day that dawns brings new grief. First light, then shadow.	Must break the silence This empty space inside is Louder than a scream

Source: Haiku Poetry By Tracy

Haiku Poetry

What is Haiku?

Haiku is one of the most important form of traditional Japanese poetry. Haiku is, today, a 17-syllable verse form consisting of three metrical units of 5, 7, and 5 syllables. Since early days, there has been confusion between the three related terms Haiku, Hokku and Haikai. The term hokku literally means "starting verse", and was the first starting link of a much longer chain of verses known as haika. Because the hokku set the tone for the rest of the poetic chain, it enjoyed a privileged position in haikai poetry, and it was not uncommon for a poet to compose a hokku by itself without following up with the rest of the chain.

Largely through the efforts of Masaoka Shiki, this independence was formally established in the 1890s through the creation of the term haiku. This new form of poetry was to be written, read and understood as an independent poem, complete in itself, rather than part of a longer chain.

Strictly speaking, then, the history of haiku begins only in the last years of the 19th century. The famous verses of such Edo-period (1600-1868) masters as Basho, Yosa Buson, and Kobayashi Issa are properly referred to as hokku and must be placed in the perspective of the history of haikai even though they are now generally read as independent haiku.

My most recent acquisition!

My beard shaving problems are finally over!

Presenting: Remington MB-900 High Precision

At least, I hope so!

How can you not love them?

I just love Cats!

If you don't like them, you don't deserve the air you're breathing!

Sunday

Moby - Sunday (The Day Before My Birthday)

Sunday was a bright day yesterday
Dark cloud has come into the way

They sing to the darkest night
Long before

Why can't I face it
Am I too blind to see
Why did (s)he go
Why did (s)he leave me

Sunday was a bright day yesterday
Dark cloud has come into the way

Oo-oo-oo-oo-oooo
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Why can't I face it
Am I too blind to see
Why did (s)he go
Why did (s)he leave me

Sunday was a bright day yesterday
Dark cloud has come into the way

Oo-oo-oo-oo-oooo
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Kodoku

The ultimate wallpapper, made by yours trully! Soon to be engraved forever in my skin!

New stuff in the Blog

Obviously, the template is a brand new one!
This new template was partially changed, by me, in order to suit my "needs".
Also the Calendar feature was only possible thanks to ecmanaut.

Moby - "I Like It" - Hotel

MOBY

"I Like It"

Oh
Oh
I Like it
I like it a lot

Oh
I like it a lot

Oh
I like it a lot

I liked it
I liked it a lot
Stip there, sooner or not
Right there, there on the ground

Did I say I liked it?
Yes you did
Did I say I liked it?
Yes you did

I like it
I liked it a lot

I like everything about you
I like everything we try
I like everything we did then
I liked it so good inside,
So good inside

I liked it
No, I liked it a lot
I liked it
Oh way to go

Take this
You did it a lot
It's better
Better then once

I liked it
I liked it a lot
I liked it
I liked it a lot

Did I say I liked it?
Did I say that now?
Did I say I loved it?
Did you understand?
Did you get it right now?
Didn't it sounds..
Did it feel good now?

Did I say I liked it?
I liked it a lot
I liked it
I liked it a lot

Did I say I liked it?
I liked it a lot
Did I say I liked it?
You know I liked it a lot

I liked it
I liked it a lot
I liked it
No, I liked it a lot

I like it
I liked it a lot
I like it
I liked it a lot

Love Burns

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Love Burns

Never thought I'd see her go away
She learned I loved her today
Never thought I'd see her cry
And I learned how to love her today
Never thought I'd rather die
Then try to keep her by my side
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Nothing else can hurt us now
No loss, our love's been hung on a cross
Nothing seems to make a sound
And now it's all so clear somehow
Nothing really matters now
Now we're gone and on our way
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
She cuts my skin and bruise my lips
She's everything to me
She tears my clothes and burns my eyes
She's all I want to see
She brings the cold and scars my soul
She's heaven sent to me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Never thought I'd leave you like the way I do, yeah
Kiss my love and I wish you're gone
You can kiss my love and I wish you're gone
Never thought I'd leave you like the way that I do
Kiss my love and I wish you're gone
You can kiss my love and I wish you're gone
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me
Now she's gone love burns inside me

Hello there!

Hello! "Whats'ya doin'?" (Jonny 2X4 ("Ed, Edd & Eddy" - Cartoon Network ©)
Long time no see... I'm just feeling a bit depressed, so I stopped by just to tell you that...
Thanks for listening.

-----------

Well, firstly I'd like to thank you Nebula for noticing the mistakes I made in the previous post, but when I wrote that post I was almost sleeping so the mistakes were enevitable. And then I also like to thank you Nebula for your comprehension on this subject.

I'm so bleeding bored!

I don't now what else can I do! I didn't go to school this year, I haven't showed at the English School for I don't even know how long. I want to get a job but I don't know what can I do, or what I can't do. I just sleep all morning and part of the afternoon, when I wake up I just eat something and go to the coffee and do nothing except wasting my money, well not my money but my mother's, in snooker and tobacco. And then when I finally get home I go straight to the computer and play something until it's 4 AM and then I just linger here until 7 AM doing nothing more than seeing emails. I am really starting to get very disappointed with myself and that's something that I'm not enjoying at all!

I did it!

I finnally did it, after a few, well not a few, but many, attempts I think I created something really great. The template I edited just turned out amazing!

Lets check if this works!

Testing! Testing 1!
Testing 2!

Testing!