- I have been abandoned a lot. - No you have not. - Yes I have. - You don't know what a lot means. - A lot is hard. - Yes, but too much also. - I have been once and it was too much because of the dimension of it. - The dimension is given by your eyes. - So you say that if I see easier it gets easier? - Yes, but you get tired of trying after some dozens of times it happens. - What do you mean? - I mean you have been abandoned only once, you don't have to suffer; I've been left alone more than you could possibly imagine and that's what made me weak. Made me want to stop. - I have told you already that my only time hurt badly enough. - Yeah, my times hurt just enough too, only they came again and again, you know. - So what, are you destroyed? - No. Only my inside. - Hm. - But I can still move the smiling muscles. Only my mind does not respond.
– Quero muito publicar as coisas que escrevo. – Quero escrever coisas dignas de serem publicadas. – Como assim dignas de serem publicadas? – Ué, quero escrever coisas que possam ser lidas. – Tudo pode ser lido. – Quero que possa valer a pena ler. – Valer a pena? Preocupou-se. Será que deveria se preocupar com suas coisas valerem a pena? Essa preocupação lhe seria nova. – É. Vai que eu escrevo e é tudo uma pilha de desperdício? Conteúdo nulo jogado em tomos de árvores cortadas à toa por causa de mim. – Então você supõe que o papel está lá para você, é isso? – Ahn? – É. Como se você tivesse uma obrigação de resposta. Como se o papel estivesse ali para você. Engraçado. – Engraçado é esse seu raciocínio. Tudo que eu disse é que quero escrever bem. – Não. Tudo que você disse foi que seria um desperdício não fazê-lo. Isso é um absurdo, sabia? Sempre vale a pena escrever, ora. – Eu questionei se valeria a pena lerem o que escrevo, não se valeria a pena escrever. – Não. Você questionou tudo. Vê se para com isso e escreve e depois me dá pra ler. Que saco. – Que saco você. – Ainda sou seu único leitor.
the car was going really fast on the road and people were always looking forward but looking to some place else really extremely far away when it comes to pictures the mind has so the driver looking forward and yes, driving fast but he drives well you know so no problem. how the hell am i gonna tell her, tell her these years were all in vain and they're gone even out of my memory, tarnished, spoiled, don't know how to classify, what matters is it's all gone and i'm done, but god, how do you tell someone something this harsh, how the hell do you do that, is it even moral, legal or.. does it make any sense to go and say "hey, i don't really feel like i need you, i mean, not at all, not anymore" and the person is supposed to let go and understand or just let go even not understanding the madness of it all, what the hell? so the girl is so thin she almost seems to be about to, why not, vanish it's not rational, it's not, absolutely not rational, but my mind is taking it, why, how come? i can't accept that he's gone and i don't want that, i can't, i have to accept he's gone, because if it has been like this for months and we don't even talk anymore, if i can't see his soul anymore, then what is it supposed to be, is it supposed to be this endless torture? no, i have to see that this obsession, these endless painful thoughts, this thing that could be called love is something i can control if i try hard, it is, i can control, it is under my control, the mind belongs to me so does the heart, not to him, i can control this, love is just a wound that can be healed, can be healed, healed, healed, healed, not with medicine, but i can heal my wound, have to, will. so granny was cute and fatty and this chubbiness was her image and soul yeah, sure, i have patience, but it is going to end somewhen, this is all going to end up somewhere, we are going to end up broken or dying face to face to a freaking tree that showed up suddenly as we would tell the cops and my man is not going to miss me, not at all, in spite of what he says to our grandchildren, that he loves me and i love him and we are a happy freaking family, yeah i am very freaking patient, i am, that's exactly why we are all here, alive, because i had the reasons to freaking cut your freaking heads off, but i didn't, even though we, no, you were and are all like freaking birds that cannot stop singing about their miserable existences, so they sing as they don't have anything to do, as there's no solution, as in granny is gonna take care of everything, fuck, what kind of everything is left? so grandpa if there were doctors there (there will be if they keep driving this fast down this dangerous road), they would have called it. but no one in the fast slash slow car noticed, and it had been like hours since he stopped breathing.
- Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid. - Don't be stupid. - I am not stupid.
Every particle in the universe attracts every other particle. Matter on the large scale is uniformly distributed. Gravitationally balanced, but unstable. The idea of a static universe or "E.'s universe" is one which demands that space is not contracting but rather is dynamically stable. A. E. once proposed such a model as his preferred cosmology by adding a cosmological constant to his equations of general relativity to counteract the dynamical effects of gravity which in a universe of matter would cause the universe to collapse.
What is that all about that even non-opposites are necessarily bumping one against the other in the universe? What is that energy all about, the energy that is transferred when molecules bump into one another? What's out there for us to get... or to catch? You bet there are better places? I bet there are better particles. Hard, soft, or satisfying. Question is, how can we tell? Maybe there's a fact. The sensation of disembodiedness must hurt more than the collision. Hard, soft, or satisfying... Therefore, the bump must be the prize itself; some kind of prize, given at the expense of its own existence. 'Cause the sooner you collide, the sooner you change. Syllogistic as that (shortened in two sentences!). As soon as you collide, you're different. You're something else. Not forever, though; just wait until the next drunk particle to bump into you. Or a sober particle bumping into you in the dark. That's why it would be appropriate to say: as soon as you die, kill me, would you please? I am looking forward to my next death in this life. I mean, my next collision that surely will have as a result another metamorphosis of mine. Something will grow inside of me. Maybe a whole tree, who knows. I accept my destiny. My destiny is the destiny of all particles of the universe (of live, of everything, haha). It is all about colliding. Changing. Getting better. Colliding particles can make black holes - and they're nothing but energy crammed into a small volume, just as in collapses of massive stars (see, even when it looks complex... pretty much the same thing if you think that massive stars also end up filling too tightly). As uncomfortable as it might be, collisions are the key to our internal process of evolving. Isn't that so? If we think that every single kind of matter particle is mirrored by its antimatter (that has opposite electric charge, that means, equal, but opposite charge... "the opposite ain't that different after all, huh"), it may seem a little stupid to overrate all of those collisions that happen all the time. How is it good to collide with your equal-opposite, you would ask. However... the balance isn't simply about the existence of those opposites, of our opposites. It has to be something beyond us: the existence of the opposites isn't enough, that's why they inter/intracommunicate. By colliding, of course. Let's collide, then. Cheers to that. Slainte.
And I don't really give a damn in case you didn't understand a thing of my thoughts. After all, hey, it is not just because we're all pretty much the same that we cannot have profit by colliding.