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Monday, October 27, 2014

A brain collapse...




The following letter was found in the pocket of a corpse: 
Dear Mr. Prosecutor,
I committed suicide! 
Do not blame anyone for my fate. I left this life because if I stayed alive here for one day longer , I would eventually die mad! 
I will explain to you, Mr. Doctor: I had the misfortune to marry a widow, who had already an adult daughter; if I knew what would happen, I would never have married her. 
My father, to the greatest misfortune, is a widower, and he unfortunately fell in love with and married the daughter of my wife. 
The result was that my wife became my father's mother in law. My stepdaughter became my mother and my father became my son in law. 
After some time, my daughter gave birth to a child who came to be my brother, but my wife's grandson, and I became the grandfather of my brother. 
Sometime later, my wife also gave birth to a boy who became my mother's brother and my father's brother in law and uncle of himself. In this way my wife became daughter in law of her  own daughter. 
So I became my mother's father, becoming a brother to my son, my wife became my grandmother, as she is my mother's mother, and so I ended up being the grandfather of myself. 
So before everything became more complicated, I decided to finish it once and for all!!! 
My brain collapsed.... and I killed myself!!!









Friday, October 24, 2014

Kissing good...



Ok: we want to find someone beautiful, intelligent and witty. Someone who is not too extrovert and not conceited but who has a captivating conversation and is fallen for us. 
But what if he is a bad kisser? No chance at all!!! 
He has to kiss good... 

But when I hear someone saying that somebody is so-and-so kisser, a bad kisser, I almost come back to believe in fairy tales. 
The good is the fortunate to two mouths that enter into communion. Can a "Rafael" kiss a "Ana" and the kiss be a volcanic explosion!!! Bur the same  "Rafael" can kiss a "Cristina" lips and be a meeting to sleep... People do not kiss good or bad: couples kiss good or bad. There are always two involved. 

The definition of a good kiss is that it may be questionable, but who is in the midst of the event almost always recognizes the sublime kiss. 

Nice kiss is a wished and decided kiss, even if the decision is to take it slowly far away...sooo good... 

Good kiss is a wet kiss when the kissers donate all there is to donate in the oral cavity without aseptic, absolute surrender. 

Good kiss is unhurried kiss, which was not condemned by the hands of the clock, which is lost in dark mazes since it is good to remember, we have our eyes closed... 

Kiss is good when you can not stop even if you wanted to. 

Good kiss is not allowing our thoughts to take shape and fly to another place... Our mind is there, stuck on the kiss... 


Is there a bad kiss? Yes there is: a soulless kiss, a too polite kiss,a short kiss, a kiss full of controlled movements,  a dry kiss. 
But one thing is certain: it's necessary two to make it cold or make it hot. Everyone can kiss good, our lips have just to  meet whom.

After all, a real good kiss is the kiss given by the person who we are completely in love. 



http://youtu.be/kFfKb_WEkCE









Martha Medeiros

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The pain that hurts most...



Locking a finger in a door hurts. 
Hitting the chin on the floor hurts. 
Twisting the ankle hurts. 
A slap, a punch, a kick, hurt. It hurts to hit the head on the edge of the table, biting the tongue hurts. Colic, caries and kidney stone, hurt. 
But what hurts more... is missing... 
Missing a brother who lives far away... 
Missing a childhood waterfall... 
Missing the taste of a fruit that we can't find anymore... 
Missing the dear parent who has died... 
Missing a good friend I have not met anymore... 
Missing a city where I have lived... 
I miss myself, when I had more courage and no white hair... 
Missing all those things hurt... 
But the most painful longing is the longing for the beloved one...I miss the skin, the smell and the kisses... I miss his everyday presence, and even a consented absence... I could stay in a room and he in the other room, without seeing each other, but I knew he was there... I could go to the airport and he to the dentist, but we knew ourselves where. I could stay a day without seeing him, he, a day without seeing me, but we knew we had a tomorrow... 
But when the love of one ends, the other leaves a longing that no one knows how to stop... 

Longing is not knowing... 
I do not know anymore if he continues with his allergies... 
I do not know anymore if he dyes his hair... 
I do not know if he still wears the striped T-shirt that makes him look so handsome... 
I do not know if he is taking his medicines as he promised... 
I do not know if he is eating healthy and if he is still, a vegetarian...
If he still smiles, if he still works out..
If he is in love...

Longing is not knowing... 
Not knowing what to do with the days that became longer... 
Not knowing how to find tasks that make you cease thinking... 
Not knowing how to stop the tears when listening to our song...
Not knowing how to overcome the pain of a silence that fills nothing. 

Longing is wondering if he's with someone, if he is happy, if he is skinnier, if he is more handsome... 

And above all,  even not wanting to know anything about him, and try not to wonder anymore...
The love goes on... The longing doesn't vanish...
...and it hurts...





Monday, October 20, 2014

Me...





When I am sad I get silent 
When I am mad I get stupid 
When I'm boring I get lucid 
When I'm sexy I get smart 
When I'm blind I get a seer 
When I'm needy I get insane 
When I am naughty I get cool 
When I'm dry I get empty 
When I'm cold I get distant 
When I'm hot I get oily 
When I'm perk I get so many  
When I am holy I get ice 
When I'm salty I get raw 
When I am pure I get attempted 
When I'm sitting I get tall 
When I'm young I get a maiden 
When I'm pretty I get futile 
When I am working I get perfect 
When I'm wondering...
I am yours...





Your own game...



From north to south, from east to west, everyone wants to be happy. It is not an easy task. At first, it would be sufficient to have health, money and love, which is already a commendable package, but our desires are even more complex. 

It is not enough that people are without fever. We want health, to be very thin, healed, irresistible. Money? It is not enough to pay the rent, the food and the film. We want a lap pool, a Louis Vitton purse and a season in a five-star spa. 
What about love? Ah, love ... not just to have someone you can talk, share a pizza and have sex occasionally. This is to think small...
We want to be viscerally passionate, want to be surprised by statements and unexpected gifts. 
We want candlelit dinner from Monday through Sunday. We want wild sex daily and we want to be happy thus and not otherwise. 

That's what you see so much television. Just forget trying to be happy in a more realistic way. Why can we not be happy forming a pair, and not as odd? Having a steady partner is not synonymous with happiness, unless the happiness of being corresponding to the expectations of society, but that is another matter. You can be happy single, happy with some occasional novels, with three partners happy, happy no. There tiny love, especially when it comes to self-love. 

Money is a blessing. Who has need to enjoy it, spend it, enjoy it. Do not waste time gathering, gathering, gathering. Just enough to feel secure, but not imprisoned. And if we have little bit with this is that it will try to hold the wave, trying to leave things for free, like a little humor, a little faith and a little creativity. 

Being happy in a realistic way is to accept the possible and the improbable. 
Doing exercises without aim walkways, work without crave stardom, love without the eternal aim. 
Watch the clock: time to wake up. 
It is important to think the extreme, look inside what moves us, instigates and leads, but not require inhumanly. 
Life is not a game where only those who test their limits is what takes the prize. 
Let's not be naive victims of such competitiveness. 
If the goal is too high, reduce it. If you are not in accordance with the rules, resign yourself. 
Invent your own game.











Sunday, October 19, 2014

Addicted...




There is nothing worse than being addicted to something. Smokers, alcoholics, workaholics, junkies, all are Ph.D in slavery. 
But the most harmful addiction is the addiction to another person, that many people confuse with love. True love liberates... 
Addiction is cage... 

You may have said to a friend, or heard from him: --- -that thing you feel is a disease! 
And it is nothing more than a disease. 
The symptoms are easily recognizable. You have a chaotic relationship. Discuss for many hours a day. One is from Mars, the other from Venus. One day the planets collide and your world collapses. 

If it were love, what would come after the breakup? Revolt, tears, longing, a brief would relapse, more tears, more longing, until gradually a certain peace would arise, the self-esteem would be  back and love would turn into memory. 
With your heartbroken, you would search for a new romance and start all over again. It is not a quick process, but it is more or less like that. 

Addiction? no please. If you're addicted to someone, go only halfway: anguish, tears, longing and relapse. And stop there. Insist on relapse. Anxiety makes you do crazy things to get your love back, and when you can have five minutes with him, you throw yourself voluptuously: you smoke, you smell, you drink the guy up to the last drop. After that? A heady feeling of healing. No, you do not need him anymore. You can very well live without him. You do not even think he is attractive, and you come back home feeling as a female medieval warrior. You won the fight with yourself!

Two weeks pass and then you call the phone company to see if your line is faulty. The phone just does not ring! Also your car no longer obey your orders: it drives alone into the street where your dear love lives, just to see if his motorbike is in front of the garage. And it is. So he did not return to Venus, he is still in the city. You start to cold sweat. Feel lightheaded. Go to the office and begin to chewing the office pencils, spills coffee on colleagues, trembles to hold the glass... 
Diagnosis: abstinence symptoms. You go after him. You need crazily an injection of affection in you vein. 

The end of this story? Does not exist. He needs it too, otherwise he would not open the door. 
We need to claim the urgent creation of an AP: Anonymous Passionate. 
Just as there are people who, to overcome alcoholism, avoid taking the first sip, some people need to learn to avoid the first meeting not reoccur for a love that is bad for their health.











I vanished because...








I vanished because I just make foolishness  in 

your presence. 

I get dumb when I should verbalize, say a nonsense 

after another when stay in silence would be the best, 

make jokes in bad taste and suffer before, during 

and after meeting you. 


I vanished because there is no future for us and this 

is not the hardest deal. The hardest is not to have a 

present and the past  being more fluid than the air.


I vanished because there is not what we can 

redeem.

My disappearance is coward but observant, half 

worthless, half authentic.

I vanished because vanishing is a game of patience. 


Vanishing is a risk and also wisdom. 


I seem uninterested, but I vanished to be always by 

your side...

Missing you will make more for us than my  love for 

you and its clumsy and thoughtless permanence.