Bellum omium contra omnes

Take your hands off me

After all I don’t belong to you

Is not by overwhelming me

That you get to understand me…

I may be alone in this journey

But I know too well where I am

You may even doubt

But this path I walk by myself…

I’ll be lost between monsters

Of my own creation and imagination

During my whole nights…

Perhaps for fear of the dark

I’ll be up all night long

Imaging a solution

That will allow my selfishness

To not destruct my heart…

Maybe is just imagination…

I don’t know what will happen…

Maybe it’s all in vain…

"Dreams are the touchstones of our character" - Henry David Thoreau

Listening to Milton Nascimento - "Milagre dos Peixes"

Ex uno disce omnes

No matter where you stopped...

At what point in life you tired ...

What matters is that it is always possible and necessary a "Restart"...

Restart is a new chance to yourself...

Is to renew your hope in life...

And most important believing in you again...

Suffered greatly during this period?

Was learning process...

You cried a lot?

You were cleaning your soul...

Became angry at people?

Only to forgive them one day...

Felt lonely several times?

Was when you closed your doors even to the angels...

Believed that all was lost?

That was when your restart began...

So... Now it's time to reboot...

Think about the light that you though had been lost...

Time to find, again, pleasure in simple things...

A bold new sense to life... A different one...

Or a new course to life... "Restart" that old desire to learn...

To paint... To draw... to know... to be...

Or anything else...

Look how many challenges facing you...

How many new things in this big world of you...

Waiting... Waiting for your "Restart"...

There are so many people waiting for your smile

An opportunity to get back near you...

People that you sent away with this "period of isolation"...

When we lock ourselves in sadness...

Neven we can support ourselves... we are horrible souls...

The bad mood keeps eating our liver... Until the mouth is bitter...

"Restart"... Today is a good day to start new challenges!

And today is the perfect time for a mental housecleaning...

Throw away everything that binds you to the past...

The little world of sad things...

Throw it all away... but mainly... Empty your heart...

Get ready for life... for new loves...

Remember we are impassioned...

We are always able to love again and again...

After all...

We are "Love"...

“If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there.” - Lewis Carroll

Listening to The Beatles - "Elenor Rigby"

A capite ad calcem

Look in my eyes

And say what you see

When they realize

They are looking at me

I look in your eyes

And feel that you

Make them shine

As a king star…

Look in my eyes

And you will see

Your face lighting up

To a moon unknown

I can read your wings

Beautiful butterflies

My God what a beautiful image

But tormenting

I'm yours but I cannot be

She is mine but nobody can know

Love I forbid you

I do not want to…

"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." - Albert Einstein

Listening to Miles Davis and Milt Jackson Quintet - "Bitty Ditty"

Novus Regnum

Do not sleep under the cypress trees,

Because there is no sleep in the world.

The body is the shadow of garments

That hide your real self.

Come the night, which is death,

And the shadow ends without being.

Screams in the night just play,

Like you unintentionally.

But at the Inn of Wonder

Angels take up your covers.

Following without the cover on the shoulder,

Just the remaining peaces covering you.

So Archangels in the road

undress you and leave you naked.

You do not have clothes, you have nothing:

You only have your body, that is you.

Finally, in the deep cave,

All Gods undress you more.

Your body ceases, an just external soul stays,

And you see that are your equals.

The shadow of your clothes

Luckily, is far gone.

You're not dead, among cypresses.

Neophyte, there is no death.

“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law” - Aleister Crowley.

Listening to Pink Floyd - "Good bye Blue Sky"

Felix Felicis Infinitas Infinitio

In the day-to-day confusion
In the doubt that suffocates
In the anything pain
I found my path...

But the path only exists
when you pass through it...
Once you stop walking,
After staying and going,
Ill know the one who arrives
in order to be the one leaving..

And as thousand of stars
singular letters in the sky
A particular history is told...

And I try to read it just to know
What the voice of life has to say...




"Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old." & "Believing
in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made." -
Franz Kafka




Listening to Dave Brubeck Quartet - "Blue Rondo A La Turk"

Remember, Remember the 5th of November...

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason, and plot,
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, ’twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow;
By God’s providence he was catch’d
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!
A penny loaf to feed the Pope.
A farthing o’ cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we’ll say ol’ Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah hoorah!
"Old English saying"



"If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one." and "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." - Oppenheimer recalling Bhagavad Gita




Listening to Peter Bjorn & John - "Young Folks"

Donec Animus Libertas

After all were gone,
And also the day,
Were among the shadows
Of the alleys in the park
Me and my agony.

Party was for others.
And when it was gone
Were among the shadows
Of the tight alleys
Who I was and who I am.

Everything was to all.
Played, but in the end
Were among the shadows
Of the nightly alleys
Just me, and I without me.

Perhaps in the old park
A party returns to be.
Will be among the shadows
Of the sad alleys
I and who I know I`m not.




"A man's moral conscience is the curse he had to accept from the gods in order to gain from them the right to dream." - William Faulkner




Listening to Chet Baker & Stan Getz - Winter Wonderland