10X15 (Mr. Floyd).

He came with us to this house he was still a baby. I remember when I first laid my eyes on him; he was sloppy with his floppy ears, his fast tail and those sad eyes I felt in love with him at the first sight. He was named after a Tornado, like the one he was. This happened at a mall somewhere around the Quaker Town. He came in a box, he was supposed to make me company while B wasn’t at home, we lived far away from the city, in the suburbs at Harleysville. To go to school I had to ride my bike some miles, park it in a supermarket and then take a bus. Because everything was so far away I need “someone” to count on to make me company. He had two other “brothers” Friday and Wednesday (two albino ferrets), but we couldn’t have them for a long time.

He was this little Tasmanian devil with an strong bark, Friday used to grab a part of his mouth every time he tried to play with him. And Wednesday hide himself behind the couch and jumped on his back, trying to surprise him. Sometimes we had to lock him in the basement so he wouldn’t destroy the whole house, but he liked to nose around in the boxes full of crap and eat light bulbs, so dangerous but so funny to catch him with it in his mouth.

He learned me, he knew when I was sad, so he would seat with me on the couch, he used to come looking at me with his silly face and he would put his head on my lap and then lay down with his belly up so I would pat it. He loved it. I liked to do it too. And I learned him as well, he hated to get his pawns wet so he wouldn't go out in a rainy day so he always peed halfway the house thru the dog door, but he loved to play outside in the snow. So cute!

He was mean sometimes, like one day I tried to take from him a rug that he was eating and he bitted my thumb and punched a hole on it. It bled a lot; he knew he did something bad so he went downstairs to the basement and hided there until B came home, he knew it would be safer, cause I was really mad.

But he was a nice "guy" after all, he was a bit scared of other dogs but loved to have people around, he was always happy when we had parties and he would hang around as if he was one of the guys, telling the truth he was one of my guys. He was also a link to this time, to this past live, the one that just like him isn’t coming back anymore. I will miss you crabby but cool dog.

(Floyda doido playing in the snow)
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The hidden meaning

BdsfjdSomente letras soltas ao vento,nfsdnfdnque formam palavras,
hsdhquefrtonds compõem frases efdkosmformam pensamentoskdsmfk-amsdfk
kPensamentos todos confusos e misturados com memóriasvcfmnskfkds
jfldsfe antigos tormentoseudmafçldfldlçfdls


KyLetras iniciaisdskfdque dão sentindo ao meu sofrer (A)morlgrtojuqqwuuw ksadfkdsflçsdlfçoiJmke até mesmojkdksakdnksandknsadkndadnnka minha própria inicial (M)edollç,ll,lque rouba e esconde quem eu soull,l,lç,çlkoikoi. Sorrateiramente,khfkhklfhkehfkhaksp9urqwkk,2 desliza entre o presente e o ausentelpkopkokopk
Fbjbeyse torna fria, nem prosa, nem versofiowhfihijuw9eqr-fldsjlkçiwe0flj.

nni9iu3ojaiE assim se compõem em inversonukjjo


OuiEm nulo sujo e confusonj9iwparte de mim
nkjhijpjpjpjpjje de uma história sem fimhidfdisfihf
Pfdssdffffjrukgjjhjt5ujgoioio9 como acabar com algojkjkkmmm,mtque se quer tantokjoi0i0i0ii


kp´Tento compor e hijhfieifjej02jjmrecompor (em mim) um sentido,k´plp´lPra que não seja, tão assim, confuso.llrtefefMe misturo em minhas letras,iphoipudçlwqeoosdldspalavras e emoçõesgegerger
Tento achar um sentidofjkdjfjdfudsfuouw9u9pra isso tudo.odfjmaiwejhfakdfkajfkjMas já não vejo mais motivo. PjkmfewnfiidaksdmaksmvsdPra continuar tentando em vãomifpejkwtqkjqogtroqk
Ujkdfkhwe em lágrimas me despeçomnfkjjrrjrje
De letras(kljnhfiewjhriueprpwqurpo)que nem compõem palavrasjdjsdoieoeoqwjkjfdjsnem verso.
.
(O que me sobrou foi me redesenhar e me recompor)
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Her Morning Elegance (Oren Lavie)

Sun been down for days

A pretty flower in a vase

A slipper by the fireplace

A cello lying in its case

Soon She's down the stairs

Her morning elegance She wears

The sound of water makes her dream

Awoken by a cloud of steam

She pours a daydream in a cup

A spoon of sugar sweetens up

.

And She fights for her life

As She puts on her coat

And She fights for her life on the train

She looks at the rain

As it pours

And She fights for her life

As She goes in a store

With a thought She has caught

By a thread

She pays for the bread

And She goes...

Nobody knows

.

Sun been down for days

A winter melody She plays

The thunder makes her contemplate

She hears a noise behind the gate

Perhaps a letter with a dove

Perhaps a stranger she could love

And She fights for her life

As She puts on her coat

And She fights for her life on the train

She looks at the rain

As it pours

And She fights for her life

As She goes in a store

With a thought she has caught

By a thread

She pays for the bread

And She goes...

Nobody knows

.

And She fights for her life

As She puts on her coat

And She fights for her life on the train

She looks at the rain

As it pours

And She fights for her life

Where people are pleasently strange

And counting the change

And She goes...

Nobody knows

(Video made with Stop Motion tool, very creative and cool)

. (Oren Lavie)

"A felicidade é um par de botas"

O que é felicidade?

Essa realmente é uma pergunta difícil de responder, algum tempo atrás estava meu pai e eu no carro conversando sobre um assunto qualquer, eu gosto muito de conversar com meu pai, e ele solta essa frase que de vez em quando diz, desde pequeno eu ouço isso, mas somente naquele dia fez sentido, eu consegui finalmente pegar o significado.

Percebi então que essa busca incansável pela felicidade é uma coisa que existe dentro de cada um de nós, indiferente da classe social, gênero e idade e por diversas fases da vida ela está ligada a alguma coisa (pessoa) que naquele momento faz toda a diferença, é a peça que falta dentro da gente pra, às vezes, completar nosso próprio sentido.

A menina que ganha a tão desejada Barbie (peão), ou menino e seu mega videogame (ou não), receber a visita de um primo(a), visitar a vovozinha que mora longe, sentido que se faz e sentido que se dá. Mais tarde quando adolescente, ir ao shopping, ver um filme com a galera sem a supervisão dos pais, dar o primeiro beijo no “escurinho do cinema”, viajar pra praia com a família do amigo.

Ai agente vai crescendo, o motivo, a sensação cresce em conceitos, ter seu primeiro emprego, ganhar o primeiro salário, ter a roupa de uma determinada marca, sei lá, carro, entrar naquela facul, passar no estágio. Ser promovido, de atendente pra caixa, ver o ex-chefe cuzão se foder, cada um cada um.

As coisas vão progredindo com o tempo, uma noite especial com uma pessoa, especial, aquele torpedinho na manhã seguinte, estar apaixonado e ser correspondido, aquele Carnaval na praia, muito churras e bebedeira com os amigos, aquela viagem pra Europa. Aquele bilhete só de ida, marcando o retorno ao seu Estado ou seu País. E tudo mais que possa ser gostoso naquele momento, naquela fase. Que nos dê um sentido especial que nos crie um sorriso nos olhos, alegria, uma satisfação mesmo que efêmera.

A felicidade ao meu ver, às vezes, não está relacionada ao todo, mas sim aos pedacinhos que montam este complexo quebra-cabeça que é a humanidade, podem mudar rumos pra sempre ou simplesmente acalentar o coração, são os pequenos gestos, as pequenas conquistas, as pequenas idas e vindas, são os pequenos passos dados dia após dia, ano após ano. Ou às vezes simplesmente e tão somente a felicidade é “apenas” um par de botas.

(Seja perto ou longe, vou sentir saudades de vocês, Gu e Guria)
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