09 abril 2008

em certos dias acordamos zonzos, mal-dormidos, com aquela sensação febril de que passámos a noite em claro, a cabeça num turvelinho, o peito em corrida disparada, os sentidos à espera de qualquer coisa (ou já à espera de coisa nenhuma). mexemos o chá dos doentinhos com meia colher de açúcar e uma torrada quase seca, que logo nos lembra o quão frágeis somos. esquecemos essa evidência, mas ela não se esquece de nós, de nos relembrar esta nossa humanidade com caixa baixa. feita de órgãos, circuitos sanguíneos, pele, coisas vivas (com todas as características que têm os sistemas vivos, nem todas particularmente entusiasmantes, para usarmos um eufemismo). mexemos na chícara-chávena-copo-whatever e imaginamos, como no filme do spike lee, mil e um comboios em andamento. lembramos como aqui chegámos, todos os caminhos, linhas de ferro, estações de província e gares majestosas, os cruzamentos de linha, as entradas e saídas, os transbordos. uma rede complexa, interligada, irreplicável. e teria bastado apenas e só escolher algures uma outra opção e, não juramos mas pressentimos, o lugar onde agora nos sentamos seria, com elevada probabilidade, outro. os caminhos mentais em rewind e fast forward, mapas de metro com dezenas de linhas, centenas de estações, milhares de cruzamentos. tudo a mexer na nossa cabeça, as luzes psicadélicas a impedirem a racionalidade de falar mais alto. para trás, para a frente, para o lado. como aqueles potentíssimos super-computadores que numa fracção de tempo ínfima fazem milhões de cálculos, a nossa cabeça mapeia e visualiza e assinala com um jogo feérico de luzes bêbedas todas as possibilidades, todas as veredas, todos os atalhos - e todas as suas combinações. como se não bastasse, a cadeira roda, como nos barbeiros de antigamente (dizem-me aqui as vozes interiores): deixa o passado que te trouxe até ao presente e embarca no presente que te conduzirá ao futuro. repete-se a vertigem, as luzes a explodir, imagens de computadores militares, em luz verde escura sob fundo negro, traçando caminhos, dando coordenadas sem parar, o tempo em aceleração imparável, tic tac tic tac tic tac. como não estar cansado, desolado? nem sequer numa noite de sono somos senhores de nós mesmos, nem sequer uma simples instrução (dorme! descansa! desliga!) o nosso espírito e o nosso corpo obedecem. frenesim, frenesim, uma mar de perguntas: e se tivesses insistido? desistido? resistido? resistido mais um bocadinho? insistido menos um bocadinho? nunca desistido? mais cedo? mais tarde? o chá está frio, a torrada mastiga-se a custo. nada nos sabe a nada. tudo nos sabe a nada.

primavera, so they say. bastards.

10 Comments:

Anonymous Anónimo said...

Primavera, so i say.

Still i am (Spring).

Enviei-te um email com um texto que escrevi há algum tempo que também fala sobre o que discorres nestas palavras.

quarta-feira, abril 09, 2008 12:20:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What, and on What it Might be Reasonable to Do About What's What'

"Nobody needs to go anywhere else. we are all, if we only knew it, already there.
If I only knew who in fact I am, I should cease to behave as what I think I am; and if I stopped behaving as what I think I am, I should know who I am.
What in fact I am, if only the Manichee I think I am would allow me to know it, is the reconciliation of yes and no lived out in total acceptance and the blessed experience of Not-Two.

In religion all words are dirty words. Anybody who get eloquent about Buddha, or God, or Christ, ought to have his mouth washed out whit carbolic soap.
Because his aspiration to perpetuate only the 'yes' in every pair of opposites can never, in the nature of things, be realized, the insulated Manichee I think I am condemns himself to endlessly repeated frustration, endlessly repeated conflits with other aspiring and frustrated Manichees.
Conflicts and frustrations - the theme of all history and almost all biography. "I show you sorrow," said the Buddha realistically. But he also showed the ending of sorrow - self-knowledge, total acceptance, the blessed experience of Not-Two."

............to continue............

quarta-feira, abril 09, 2008 1:09:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What...'

II

"Knowing who in fact we are results in Good Being, and Good Being results in the most appropriate kind of good doing. But good doing does not of itself result in Good Being. We can be virtuous without knowing who in fact we are. The beings who are merely good are not God Beings; they are just pillars of the society.
Most pillars are their own Samsons. they hold up, but sooner or later they also pull down. There has never been a society in whitch most good doing was the product of Good Being and therefore constantly appropriate. This does not mean that there will never be such a society nor that the ones trying to call it into existence are fools."

...........to continue.............

quinta-feira, abril 10, 2008 5:24:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

olho-rasos-de-água no teu jardim é nome de flor?

tu escreves
tão bem mas tão bem... disses te tudo. é isso tudo. custa ler.


ps.
quanto à a Primavera... a Primavera fomos nós que a inventámos(era mesmo preciso)
a Primavera em nós somos nós que a fazemos (é mesmo preciso).
sim? vamos colher ela. já. agora!

toma para partilhar contigo.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=6Vfp7yPEHw8

tu repara na constância do sorriso e de uma chama acesa.

sim. coisas...

:)

beijinhos

i

quinta-feira, abril 10, 2008 6:08:00 da tarde  
Blogger Abssinto said...

Tanta coisa
Tanta coisa
Tanta coisa
Tanta coisa
Tanta coisa
Tanta coisa

...

quinta-feira, abril 10, 2008 11:14:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What...'

III

(...)

"Good Being is knowing who in fact we are; and in order to know who in fact we are, we must first know, moment by moment, who we think we are and what this bad habit of thoughts compels us to feel and do. A moment of clear and complete knowledge of what we think we are, but in fact are not, puts a stop, for the moment, to the Manichean charade. If we renew, until they become a continuity, these moments of the knowledge of what we are not, we may find ourselves all of a sudden, knowing who in fact we are."

sexta-feira, abril 11, 2008 1:06:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

Ai!

...

sexta-feira, abril 11, 2008 1:36:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What...'

III

"Concentration, abstract thinking, spiritual exercises - systematic exclusions on the realm of thought. Asceticism and hedonisme - systematic exclusions in the realms of sensation, feeling and action. But Good Being is in the knowledge of who in fact one is in relation to all experiences; so be aware - aware in every context, at all times and whatever, creditable or discreditable, plesant or unpleasant, you may be doing or sufering. This is the only genuine yoga, the only spiritual exercise worth practising. 'The more a man knows about individual objects, the more he knows about God'. Translating Spinoza’s language into ours, we can say: The more a man knows about himself in relation to every kind of experience, the greater his chance of suddenly, one fine morning (num dia de sol), realizing who in Fact (capital F) “he” (between quotation marks) Is (capital I)."

............to continue............

terça-feira, abril 15, 2008 9:13:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What...'

"St. John was right. In a blessedly speechless universe, the Word was not only with God; it was God. As a something to be believed in. God is a projected symbol, a reified name. God = "God."
Faith is something very different from belief. Belief is the systematic taking of unanalyzed words much too seriously. Paul's words, Mohammed's words, Marx's words, Hitler's words—people take them too seriously, and what happens? What happens is the senseless ambivalence of history—sadism versus duty, or (incomparably worse) sadism as duty; devotion counterbalanced by organized paranoia; sisters of charity selflessly tending the victims of their own church's inquisitors and crusaders. Faith, on the contrary, can never be taken too seriously. For Faith is the empirically justified confidence in our capacity to know who in fact we are, to forget the belief-intoxicated Manichee in Good Being. Give us this day our daily Faith, but deliver us, dear God, from Belief."

............to continue............

sexta-feira, abril 18, 2008 8:56:00 da tarde  
Anonymous Anónimo said...

'Notes on What's What...'

"Me as I think I am and me as I am in fact—sorrow, in other words, and the ending of sorrow. One third, more or less, of all the sorrow that the person I think I am must endure is unavoidable. It is the sorrow inherent in the human condition, the price we must pay for being sentient and selfconscious organisms, aspirants to liberation, but subject to the laws of nature and under orders to keep on marching, through irreversible time, through a world wholly indifferent to our well-being, toward decrepitude and the certainty of death. The remaining two thirds of all sorrow is homemade and, so far as the universe is concerned, unnecessary."

.......to continue... eventually...

terça-feira, abril 22, 2008 9:03:00 da tarde  

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