Onde esperança e desespero são iguais

'We must walk open-eyed into that trap, with courage, but small hope for ourselves. For, my lords, it may well prove that we ourselves shall perish utterly in a black battle far from the living lands; so that even if Barad-dûr be thrown down, we shall not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so than to perish nonetheless – as we surely shall, if we sit here – and know as we die that no new age shall be.'

They were silent for a while. At length Aragorn spoke. 'As I have begun, so I will go on. We come now to the very brink, where hope and despair are akin. To waver is to fall.

"The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King", Tolkien

Peço desculpa pela ausência.
Estou muito ocupada a passar necessidades e frio e a ser condenada a morrer à fome pelo crime de ter tirado uma licenciatura.
Peço desculpa pela intrusão no mundo das pessoas que só acreditam na miséria dos outros quando a miséria lhes bater à porta também.

Notícias

Ok, isto vai ser curto e grosso porque eu não tenho paciência para mais.
Na procura de emprego, têm-me fechado portas na cara porque cometi o erro de tirar uma licenciatura, e com boa média e tudo, tal foi o atrevimento!
Já não é a primeira vez que isto acontece. Nos anos 90 era pior, muito pior, mas parece que estamos a voltar para trás.
Vergonha de país que me obriga a mentir, dizendo que tenho o 12º ano e fazendo um "downsizing" bastante acentuado ao meu currículo! A velha história em que uma parte do iludido país vive, que quem trabalha até "vai esfregar escadas", não é verdade! É mentira! É um país de mentira que obriga as pessoas a mentirem.
Pior, é um país que não só incentiva mas que premeia a medíocridade e a mentira!

DIVULGUEM! ACORDEM OS OUTROS!


Gotika -- mostrando o país real que não passa na televisão.

"Our time is beginning to look black"


And while I see that the darkness is already upon us, and my Europe, oh my Europe!, tumbles down like the last broken fortress in the fires of Paris amidst the hellish furnace in which the world burns all around and is slowly eaten away by the hideous monster of right wing extremism dwelling its way into every dream stolen and quickly forgetting conscience in the land from east to west and north to south, a couple of nights ago I couldn't sleep, as always, and I was smoking a cigarette at my window when the chilly wind outside breathed on my face and I turned my eyes inside to see my she-cat Tats sleeping in my bed, awating me in peaceful dreams, and I realised that was a moment to remember and register and cherish, for I still have a cigarette to smoke in a peaceful night where the world but me is asleep and the wind still blows cold but clean, cleansing and purifying, under the dark black-blue sky of the city where the stars never shine.
I cherish the cold silence of the peaceful night before it grows too dark to notice and I register the moment in case I don't survive to tell about it after the worse is unfolded, as it certainly will.

A chave da sobrevivência é enfiar a cabeça em fantasia.

I did not have fun. I don't think I'll be going out again in a very big time.
I think that certain circumstances have to be met for one to have fun. It's no good to try while things are pounding at the back of your head all the time.
And the hiding, oh, I hate the hiding. But it's not like I want to talk about it either.
And then I realise sometimes there's a lot I don't tell so I don't cause others to suffer and worry and then I regret they have no idea what's my real situation and they request impossible demands.
But I can't tell them. And they can't know if I don't tell them. And I would have to bleed words to make them understand and that would be very painful. They also tire me, unwillingly.