Chegou! O desconforto do conforto. Uma das sensações que vim a adorar na minha vida. O Tédio!

Como é difícil gostar do Tédio nesta vida-luta que nos vendem, cheia de "desafios", "sacrificios", "stresses", "provas a superar".

Nesta vida que tem que ser uma escalada para chegar a sei lá que lugar.
Ah que se lixem os Kilimanjaros a conquistar.
Eu quero é aconchegar-me ao Tédio e decorá-lo de flores, tipo altar. Porque infelizmente ele há-de passar....E só quando olharmos para ele de longe, é que vamos perceber que o Tédio era a boa da felicidade, de graça e cheia de graça, bem à mão de semear.

Que ele nunca se me acabe.

Natalie Cole > avalon

chet faker melt

Oh, my loneliness will take no part in this
Oh, Oh, Overdose
Wasting my time with you, no
This only way to sunshine in my watch
Wasting my time with you, stop
I'll be erasing my mind, what you've got
Too much nerve coming into here
Turning loose and make a murder fear
God damn, boy, you so hot
It's no excuse to make my pole stop

I feel very rich when I have time to do what I love and very poor when I get a regular paycheck and no time to do it. Think of it. Employers pay salaries for time. That is the basic commodity that human beings have that is valuable.

Tenho 30 anos. #Nuncanavida que a pequena-Mami alguma vez imaginou que ia ser assim quando fosse grande! Agora estava casada, com filhos e era professora de história de arte, tudo certinho e seguro. Mas a estrada guinou praqui e prali e mandou-me para onde estou! Não tenham pena das coisas que falham, é o gps universo a "recalcular" o caminho.  E se derem por vocês em sítios onde não estão bem, mandem o gps à fava e guiem-se vocês. A vida é um restaurante caro e nós é que pagamos a conta, por isso, peçam o prato que realmente querem comer.

There will always be an endless list of chores to complete and work to do, and a culture of relentless productivity tells us to get to it right away and feel terribly guilty about any time wasted. But the truth is, a life spent dutifully responding to emails is a dull one indeed. And “wasted” time is, in fact, highly fulfilling and necessary.

A rather unusual picture: the potential for a truly balanced temperament and a capacity to adapt to life with the combined resources of realism, imagination, a clear mind and a sympathetic heart.  

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse 
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, 
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. 
Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo 
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, 
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

the self is never to be found, but must be created, not the happy accident of passivity, but the product of a thousand actions, large and small, conscious or unconscious, performed not “away from it all,” but in the face of “it all,” for better or for worse, in work and leisure rather than in free time.

No one can build you the bridge on which you, and only you, must cross the river of life,” 30-year-old Nietzsche wrote.

Some people say that “a picture is worth a thousand words”. That must be depressing for anyone earning a living from writing. For Tim de Gier these words are nothing but an encouragement. Tim has a talent for writing incredibly fast, yet sticking to the point. Last year Tim was in the US as a fellow at the Nieman Foundation for Journalism. Now that we’ve got him back, we’re looking forward to hearing his thoughts on journalism, politics, and TRANSPARENCY. 

Procuro alguma da pureza do estado de decadência em que estamos a viver. Por outro lado, a minha fotografia é também uma forma de resistência à violência do progresso, que está a roubar-nos tempo. Já não há tempo para pensar, só queremos o fútil

Paulo Nozolino

We have a culture of criticism in which critics, professional and self-appointed, measure their merit by how intelligently they can eviscerate an idea, a work of art, or, increasingly and alarmingly, a person. We seem to have forgotten how to acquire what Bertrand Russell called, just a year before Suzuki’s essays were published, “a high degree of intellectual culture without emotional atrophy” in his magnificent meditation on why construction is more difficult yet more rewarding than destruction.

The more you suffer the deeper grows your character, and with the deepening of your character you read the more penetratingly into the secrets of life. All great artists, all great religious leaders, and all great social reformers have come out of the intensest struggles which they fought bravely, quite frequently in tears and with bleeding hearts.

We are too ego-centered. The ego-shell in which we live is the hardest thing to outgrow…

For anyone who has ever experienced the soul-squeezing sense of not-enoughness — and in a consumerist culture, most of us have, for the task of consumerism is to rob us of our sense of having enough and sell it back to us at the price of the product, over and over.

hmmmm beijo bom

“An honorable human relationship … in which two people have the right to use the word ‘love,’” the poet Adrienne Rich memorably wrote, “is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a process of refining the truths they can tell each other.” But too often, we mistake for love feelings rooted in the pleasant untruths of delusion — about ourselves, or the other, or the possibility that exists between the two. Anyone who has ever been vitalized by the electricity of infatuation has also burned with disappointment as the fantasy of the idealized beloved has crumbled into the reality of a living and therefore flawed person. And yet one of the great paradoxes of the human heart is that we go on falling in love — or in what we think is love, or hope might be love — anyway.

Nearly two centuries before the French philosopher Alain Badiou examined the delicate psychoemotional machinery of why we fall and stay in love, his compatriot Stendhal set out to outline the dark side of life’s most radiant experience in his “crystallization” theory of the seven stages of infatuation and disillusionment. But infatuation, argues Alain de Botton in a portion of The Course of Love (public library), isn’t a maladaptive mutation of our love-faculty — rather, it is an essential feature of it.