thoughts?

hello. as you can see in the title of this page this is where i'll put the Things I Won't Put In My Diary.

I created this space so I don't stain the diary site. Here will be written my heavy and depressing ramblings - and the'll be stored just like in a trash bin, so they son't pollute the main purpose of this whole coding thing, that is having fun and feelling good.

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July

No Alarms and No Surprises

"I feel the sorrow of a world defeated
And wonder if my life reflects the same
Cycle of life’s consciousness depleted;
Like a picture that has fallen from its frame

I bare my heart to painful introspection
Regarding simple pleasures never found.
Like finding images of one’s reflection
In a fleeting pool of water ever bound.

Where now are all the promises of spring
That light and warmth and flowers would repair?
What now do winter wind and shadows bring
But dour images and dark despair?"

-‘October Leaves’ by Richard Lackman

Sometimes I feel like I want everything. That I'm too greedy, that I desire too much. I wish I had more friends, I wish to be loved more, I wish I had time to enjoy the things I want, I wish I was more intelligent, more likable, more confident - I wish to be satisfied.

There are times when I feel so alone that I wonder if I am enough to be satisfied at all if even I don't like my own company. I feel so alone that I start to question if I have true friends.

Since school ended I don't receive any messages. My instagram chats are dry, and it's been a long time since I had a conversation longer than two sentences with anyone outside my family or went out.

It's worse because of social media. You see groups of your friends going to the movies or restaurants and no one thought of you - and you realize weren't so important to them after all. So I avoid seeing posts or stories but I end up isolating myself more and more.

After all that has happened last year of ending high school, 2023 feels like a fever dream. It's like I'm running a maraton but everytime I see the final line someone drags it far away, so I just have to keep going or give up on the middle of it. It's like any moment that I decided to stop for a bit the feelings of the pandemic stir inside of me and I start to drag myself down on that path of idleness and fear of trying.

Studying for the exams is, not unlike everything else, hard. I keep doubting myself, my capacity of succeeding, my motives and my worth. It's emotionally tirying and I feel my mind questioning: "Wouldn't be better if yu settle for less? There is no way you will pass. You're not enough, no matter how hard you try." And I end up more sad and unmotivated than ever.

Now, even thinking about getting in puts a bitter taste on my mouth. It makes me think that even if everything goes right, I'll still feel that it wasn't worth it for me to fell like this. Is similar to eating cotton-candy, that only sweet for a few seconds, and then stays empty in your stomach.

August

In the best case scenario, we die at the same time

Sometimes I wish I didn't live with my brother. Or maybe I wished he was a little bit different. Sometimes it feels like he's putting me so close that he drags me down and we both end up suffocating.

I've been felling dismotivated lately. It's like I'm not fighting for my dream (is it really my dream?), but I am or should be, anyways. I see other people getting better and better over time and I look at myself and find me lacking. It's like I'm missing that thing. The drive, the need, the dream that everyone talks about. I look at them and I feel lost.
It's that sensation when you're around people who share a secret that only you're are not into, and you know that you don't know but that they do. I feel afraid, so afraid. I guess I'm really being left behind this time, again. What a pity, right?

What Do I Know?

I wonder why you're like this. Why you can't seem to grow up and respect me, or my wishes for you to be who I know you could be. It seems as if time stopped at twelve for you. I tell you I don't like you doing something, and you do it everyday just to make me mad.

I tell you to stay out one time, gently. Then you go and repeat, and repeat, and repeat and I have to thrown you out becase you cna't just listen. Why can't you listen? I would stay with you and laught at your jokes if you just listened.

I don't have to do things at your time, right when you ask me to. You don't do it for me, ever. I try for you, so many times. But I can't anymore, and it was like this for a long time now. You can't listen, you never do. It makes me want to get away, because I get angry, so angry at you. Why can't you listen the first time? Why do I have to repeat myself for you to do things? Simple ones. Don't call me that, clean what you made dirty, I need to get alone, put this back where it was. They are simple things.

You don't want to listen, because you don't care about me. You care about what you feel, what you want to feel. Do you feel happy when I'm annoyed? When I get so angry that I have to grit my teeth and yell at you? I repeat myself so many times, I'm exhausted. We are the same age, we live at the same house. Why I have to be this old, when you still act like a child?

I think it became a routine. We get home, you always tease me to wash your dishes, every single day. Every single day. You move my things farther, I have to put them back. Because you can't grow up. I tell you to stop. I have to study, a lot. You don't let me. I spent the whole day with you already. I can't stay in my room because you always feel invited to enter, even when you're not.

Even when I tell you after eleven times to please, do not enter, let me be alone. I think I'm loosing my ability to be gentle. You call me names and I tell you to stop. You can't. You don't want to listen. So you come back, two, three, five and six times. And every one of them I always tell you the same thing. And then, I get mad, I want to scream and shut you out. You don't listen, maybe if I yell you will, you will understand that I don't have patience nor time for jokes that only you find funny, to have to lock you out, but I don't have a lock. If I did maybe I wouldn't have to write all of this. I love you, but I can't stand you. Is that love, or responsability? Are you a burden to me? Am I one? Why don't you listen?

Scrapbook

Washed by the shore

"Everything's a risk. Not doing anything is a risk. It's up to you."
- Nicola Yoon

Seven Sided Poem
trans. Mark Strand, 1976
When I was born, one of those
crooked angels who live in shadow
said: Go on, Carlos, be gauche in life.

The houses look out on men
chasing after women.
If the afternoon were blue
there might be less desire.
The trolley passes full of legs:
white, black, yellow legs.
My God, my heart asks, why so many legs.
But my eyes ask nothing.

The man behind the mustache
is serious, simple, and strong.
He hardly talks.
He has few and precious friends,
the man behind the glasses and the mustache.

My God, why hast Thou forsaken me.
Thou knewest I wasn’t God
Thou knewest how weak I was.

World, wide world,
if my name were Harold
it might be a rhyme
but no answer.
World, wide world,
my heart is bigger
than you are.

I shouldn’t tell you
but this moonand this cognac
are hell on a person’s feelings.
Mark Strand, trans., Souvenir of the Ancient World by Carlos Drummond de Andrade (Montreal: Antaeus Editions, 1976), p. 2.

International Congress of Fear

We will provisionally not sing love,
who took refuge below the underground.
We’ll sing fear, which sterilizes hugs,
we won’t sing hate, because it doesn’t exist,
there is only fear, our father and our partner,
the great fear of backlands, seas, deserts,
the fear of soldiers, the fear of mothers, the fear of churches,
we’ll sing fear of dictators, fear of democrats,
we will sing the fear of death and the fear of after death.
then we will die of fear
and over our tombs will bloom yellow and fearful flowers.
-Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987)

Sonnet of Fidelity

Above all, to my love I'll be attentive
First and always, with care and so much
That even when facing the greatest enchantment
By love be more enchanted my thoughts.

I want to live it through in each vain moment
And in its honor I'll spread my song
And laugh my laughter and cry my tears
When you are sad or when you are content.

And thus, when later comes looking for me
Who knows, the death, anxiety of the living,
Who knows, the loneliness, end of all lovers

I'll be able to say to myself of the love (I had):
Be not immortal, since it is flame
But be infinite while it lasts.
To read the original in Portuguese click here

"Maybe, just maybe, there is no purpose in life. But if you linger awhile longer in this world, you might discover something of value in it."
- Orochimaru (Naruto)

"At the trial of God, we will all ask: why did you allow all this?
And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow all this?
- Ilya Kaminsky, Deaf Republic

"Summer? My memory flutters- had I- was there a summer?"
- Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Dr. and Mrs. J.G. Holland (1858)

Sampa
Caetano Veloso

When I stared down at you front to front I didn't see my face
I called what I saw bad taste, bad taste, bad taste
Is because Narcissus finds ugly what is not a mirror
And the mind is terrified of what is not yet really old
Nothing that wasn't before when we're not Mutants

Mulheres de Athenas
Chico Buarque

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They live for their husband
Pride and race of Athens

When they are beloved, they perfume themselves
They bathe in milk, they beautify
Their melena
When they are afflicted, they don't cry
They kneel, ask and beg for
Harder punishments, chains

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They suffer for their husbands
Power and strength of Athens

When they embark as soldier
They weave long fabrics
Thousands of quarantines
And when they return, so thirsty
They want to take them in violence
Full and obscene caresses

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They strip off for their husbands
Brave warrior from Athens

When they get drunk in wine
They want to get the caress
Of other women
But in the end of the night, so broken
They almost always return to the arms
Of their small Helens

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They generate for their husbands
The new children of Athens

They have no taste and no will
No flaw, no quality
They only have fear
They don't have dream, they only have omens
Their men, seas, shipwrecks
Beautiful mermaids, brunettes

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They fear for their husbands
Heroes and lovers of Athens

Young marked widows
And pregnants left behind
Don't scandalize
They wear in black, they cringe
They conform, they retire
To their calm prayers

Take as an example
Those Athenian women
They dry for their husbands
Pride and race of Athens

The Chant of the Three Races
Clara Nunes

No one has heard
A sob of pain
In the chanting of Brazil

A sad lament
Has always echoed
Since the Indian warrior
Was brought to captivity
And from there has sung

The negro intoned
A chant of rebellion in the air
In the Quilombo dos Palmares
Where he took refuge

Not to mention the struggle of the Inconfidentes
For breaking the chains.
Nothing availed

And from war to peace
From peace to war
All the people of this land
Whenever can sing
Sings in pain