We are parasites, members of a dystopian social embankment, hoarding debris and forcing ourselves into the natural habitat, ordaining it’s destruction from the egomaniac collective being, residing comfortably inside our opinions.

We are gods, tyrant rulers of an infinite path of categorised predicaments as of their implicit destruction, lubricated by hypocrisy and disdain, envy, and all of those injustices we can think of, inflicted to the ones who gave their evolution for us to simply achieve conscience and be able to expresse our thoughts.

We are humans, when we propose to others the same way we have, by enforcing our individually achieved personal state, the one when we became a means to a productive end, a good of no capital but to the self and the previous reference cycle, acknowledging it, and still, (why..?) try to get it through.

We are dust, chemically active and physically possible. We are a sort of thing fiction cannot propose except when we define it as reality. We are beautiful, ugly and of all that at the same spacetime context. We are unable to escape a position we defined, by living our life inside this society, and also by consent to each of our ( supposedly given by chance ) ethnographic region.

so anthropologically advanced and still not being able to deflect the differences between wanting to be an indistinct mass of individuals or a specific set of individual connections

I am what I am and I dare to make no judgment. I have made the observation from my own perception and that’s what I am here to contemplate. I brag only on the fact that I see and that I am able to accept the opportunity to pay it forward, from the first intellect capable of being named that way, and into the next presumably functional intelligible one – in spite of their quandary.

We thrive, because we simply cannot stop. In this way, I’m sure there’s room for a purge of some sort, one in which we can accept all others and all things from deep within ourselves. This is made possible only if peace and understanding does not have to concur with any of those predicaments we established to ensure the easiest way to destruction. I find it invigorating to think of it as a peaceful process of slow but decided resolution – both of passed things and things from the past – in which we settle the bases for a better tomorrow.

This is not my wish, this is what I work for everyday, and will work for, as long as I have my strengths – when they leave me I’m sure you’ve read this already.

December 25, 2020

A forma como observas a vida dos outros afeta a experiência que tens da tua. O oposto também é verdade, complementar e profusamente elementar.

May 4, 2020

O registo exige observação. Essa meditação consciencial, processa o decurso do tempo no estado humano e organiza a noção de continuidade. Há alguma disrupção e distopia pela simples contaminação da presença, mas há de tudo que o ponto de contacto com a realidade ( o ponto de observação ) se permita. Há intensidade, sempre, e velocidade de acordo com a observação; por isso o tempo do registo é indicador de decisão escrita, desenhada ou captada.


April 5, 2019

The beauty of a woman is a rare state of comfortable imperfection, uncompromising and comparable only with her own self.


December 4, 2015