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Posts Tagged ‘time’

When people asked me what do I want to do when I’ll be a grown-up, I didn’t know what to answer… Years later, and I still don’t know what to answer. Lawyer, maybe… Nah… Writer? Film… something? Human being???

Never had the claim of a writer, never thought myself as one, not because I didn’t want to, but simply because I wouldn’t find the strength to ascend to that status. Maybe I don’t have what it takes… Talent. Skill. Inspiration. A simple and basic connection between my neurons so I can write down my thoughts… you name it…

So, why come back? Why not lay down and die? Forget? Wait for time to kill you? Maybe because time is a flat circle (yeah, True Detective reference!) and whatever I do, it’s gonna repeat and happen on a basic, tasteless schedule, again and again. but that’s no perfect theory either.

Not gonna go deep with the philosophy this time… Gonna try, but not gonna force my hand. Not gonna go over my head with nothing this time. After all, I think that was my failure… and maybe I’m not alone there…

Gonna try keep it casual and cool (big words already…)

PS: Why don’t you follow this blog, bookmark it or simply remember it’s stupid address? Make an exercise, will yah?

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A long time ago I started something called The Picture of the Day, a feature that was lost into the archives of this blog. Revived into the visual arts, I decided to start paying attention to works of great names like today’s Salvador Dali, but to anonymous painters or simple pictures that got my attention. Besides this cultural atmosphere I tried to imposed myslef on this ocasion, I will try to express some thoughts regarding the emotional and moral states imposed by those artisitc figures.  So, with the hope that I haven’t bored or scared you away, yet, let me present you the first of many to come.

“The Persistence of Memory” by Salvador Dali

The Persistence of Memory is a painting by the Spanish painter Salvador Dali. The painting, as well as the artist, is exponential for Surrealism, a cultural movement that began in the early 1920s, best known for its visual artworks and writings. Surrealism works feature a special condition of expressing art through a method of non sequitur, absurd, an unexpected juxtaposition and an element of surprise. The aesthetics of such works are non-conventional as you can see, but the philosophical ideas they deploy are universal.

In the recent time I was thinking about my own transition through life. I have this flaw of letting myself pulled into my own thoughts, of losing and discovering myself in the same time and maybe that’s why I find myself in this ever going dream where I am shallow and weak, unable to do anything worthy, but stare at this giant clock that measures only my life…How I’d want to influence its ticking…the flow of time. How I’d want to stop the time for one second, to be alone, alone and eternal, above my evanescence.

I always thought that every sound we make has an echo, that the present shapes the future and that we are a product of our own past. Even so, I keep doing those stupid mistakes, I let myself pulled into this void life, into my own decadence… I live with regrets, with empty memories. I always look back and try to pick up the shattered pieces of a broken picture, wanting to repaint my present figure. This is one of our limited conditions, to live ephemerally and to look back, to want to change the past, to be above time and I believe there is something in every one of us we’d like to erase, or at least a moment when we’d like time to slow down, when we’d want the relativity to work the other way around, but those are visionary thoughts…

I find this painting as a cure to all my struggles I felt in the recent time. That symbol of the melting clock, an idea that expands beyond the canvas, the element that takes all the attention, is something that enface into your own memory. Maybe the memory is persistent after all…Maybe the remembrance is the biggest weapon we have against time, maybe the only weapon that helps us melting the clock.

Keep in mind that we are fleeting. Keep in mind that one day the clock will stop you from your path. Keep in mind that you should have something to melt your own clock when the time comes.

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I got down in the street today. The lights just went on…how beautiful the dusk is, probably the most beautiful time of the day. No. Not probably. For sure.

The clouds lay heavily above. I could smell the rain. I was waiting for the rain to burst out of the sky, counting the minutes, keeping in touch with all my senses. Minutes? Maybe hours have passed. Time was a just a relativity…

A waterdrop, two, three, hundreds…it all began in a flash of a second and it will all end in a moment.

The street quickly cleared out. I was alone, me and the rain. A fellow was passing now and then, rushing towards a certain point, towards his goal. What a waste of time! Why didn’t we enjow the small and segnificant moments like this beautiful rain?

Stood there…don’t know how long. I was charmed by the soft symphony of the rain. Got back at home.

Here I am now, writing a line. The rain is still falling, I am still living. For how long? Only time will tell. As long as the rain goes on, I will be here writing for you. The rain is fading away…

Here, your humble and futile fellow, ’til the next time, Sorry.

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Futility

"Futility of futilities, all is futile"

Sorry

"Live to the point of tears"