Saltar para: Posts [1], Pesquisa [2]

Nariz de cera

anotações e apontamentos que dizem tudo - de, por e para mim - por si mesmos.

Nariz de cera

anotações e apontamentos que dizem tudo - de, por e para mim - por si mesmos.

as memórias do esquecimento

03.12.24

[...] her mother lay with her gray hair - what was left of it - sticking out on the pillow, and she was a tiny as a person could be and still be alive. It was as though her mother had been in a science fiction movie and that her body - her essence - had been snatched. When her mother's eyes flipped open, Suzanne had said, "It's me, Mom, Suzanne," and her mother had sat up and said, "Hello." And when Suzanne repeated to her, "Mom, it's me, your daughter," her mother said pleasantly, "No, my daughter is dead." Then her mother had sung a lullaby as she rocked Snuggles, and she was still doing that when Suzanne left.

Now, as Suzanne entered the room, she had to walk by another woman seated in a wheelchair not far from her mother; [...]

Her mother sat serenely in her wheelchair in the corner of her room, with Snuggles on her lap. Her hair had been combed, and she wore a sweatsuit of pale off-white, on her feet were clean white sneakers. "Hello," she said to Suzanne. "You're a pretty woman. Who are you?"

"I'm your daughter, Mom. It's me, Suzanne."

Her mother said politely, "I don't have a daughter. She died. But when she was a little girl, she had this." And her mother held up Snuggles. "His name is Snuggles," her mother said.

"Mom, you remember this was Snuggles?" Suzanne leaned down toward her mother.

"I don't know who you are," her mother continued, "but my poor little daughter. She was always such a good girl." [...]

"But her brother!" And her mother laughed then. "Oh, her brother was a nasty little boy." [...]

Chills ran down Suzanne's side [...] "Doyle?" she finally asked.

Her mother's face remained uncomprehending, until suddenly it became twisted in fury. "You get out of here right now! Get out! Get out!" Spittle flew from her mouth.

And then the other woman seated in her wheelchair began to cry. It was a terrible sound [...] Suzanne stood up [...] "Help me, please," she said to an aide going by. "I've upset my mother and also some woman who was in here [...]

The aide was a small young woman, with no expression on her face, and she said to Suzanne, "I'll be there in a minute."

"Please come in now," said Suzanne, but the aide was already going into the room next door. "Oh God," said Suzanne. She went back into her mother's room [...] and her mother was half standing out of her chair. She pointed her arm at Suzanne. "You! Get out of here right now!"

 

Elizabeth Strout – Olive, Again (2019)
Penguin Random House UK (2019)

 

 

feliz serei

28.04.22

... então, depois de ter sentido uma angústia indescritível, então - pois não há fim para a loucura existente nos corações humanos - procurarei outro; acabando por encontrar alguém parecido contigo. Entretanto, o melhor será abolirmos o tiquetaque do relógio com um único gesto. Aproxima-te!

 

Virginia Woolf – As Ondas (1931)

Colecção Mil Folhas / Bibliotex SL / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)

 

 

à deux pas de chez nous

16.03.22

Nessa altura soube que não me tinha enganado [...] não era um marginal nem um assassino, era uma pessoa que tinha saído da vida. 

 

Marguerite Duras – Olhos Azuis, Cabelo Preto (1986)

Colecção Mil Folhas / Bibliotex SL / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)

 

La concierge me dit qu'ils ne sont bons à rien
Qu'ils n'ont pas les manières de chrétiens
Qu'ils respirent notre air et mangent notre pain
À deux pas de chez moi allez voir mes voisins
C'est vrai que nos grands-pères étaient des gens de bien
Qu'ils avaient des manières de chrétiens
Quand ils ont pris la terre d'Afrique aux Africains
À deux pas de chez moi allez voir mes voisins

 

 

barbas de molho

15.03.22

Constatei o facto até mesmo em plena angústia, quando, torcendo o lenço entre as mãos, a Susan gritou: "Amo, odeio". Pensei: " Há uma criatura inútil a rir no sótão", e este pequeno exemplo serve para mostrar o modo incompleto como mergulhamos nas nossas próprias experiências.

 

Virginia Woolf – As Ondas (1931)

Colecção Mil Folhas / Bibliotex SL / M.E.D.I.A.S.A.T. e Promoway Portugal Ltda (2002)

 

 

March 15 marks 11 years since the eruption of peaceful protests against the Assad regime in Syria.

The pro-democracy demonstrations demanding change were violently suppressed, leading to a civil war that has cost the lives of hundreds of thousands and torn the country to shreds.

More than a decade later, a brighter future is still far on the horizon for the Syrian people.

in https://www.youtube.com/c/trtworld/community

 

 

Lucas 18:22 (tudo quanto tens, reparte-o)

04.06.20

Calei-me porque achei ridículo, angustiante também, que o lixo de um fosse o entusiasmo de outro. 

 

Afonso Reis Cabral – Pão de Açúcar
Publicações Dom Quixote (2018)

 

 

no tempo certo - fruto inteiro e maduro

09.05.19

Recomeça... se puderes, sem angústia e sem pressa e os passos que deres, nesse caminho duro do futuro, dá-os em liberdade, enquanto não alcances não descanses, de nenhum fruto queiras só metade.

 

Miguel Torga

 

 

paz cara-a-cara

21.06.18

antes mesmo de nos pormos a observar os outros, deveríamos saber bem quem somos nós. O conhecimento do próximo implica esta especificidade: passa necessariamente através do conhecimento de nós próprios (...) Não é só o conhecimento que é necessário, mas também a compreensão, o acordo com os nossos próprios meios e fins e pulsões, o que significa a possibilidade de exercer um domínio sobre as nossas próprias inclinações e acções, que as controle e dirija, mas que não as limite nem as sufoque. As pessoas em quem ele admira a correcção e naturalidade de cada palavra e de cada gesto, antes memos de estarem em paz com o universo, estão em paz consigo próprias. Palomar, ao não se amar, tem sempre procedido de maneira a não se encontrar consigo próprio cara-a-cara. 

 

 

Italo Calvino - Palomar (1983)

Planeta DeAgostini (2001)

 

 

 

 

dores e confusões

01.08.17

A par da angústia afectiva, existe uma angústia intelectiva,

Embora de sabor absolutamente desigual (...)

Com os dedos gelados, pego no giz.

Nesse gesto, começo a sair da confusão que não consola. 

 

 

Maria Gabriela Llansol - O Começo de Um Livro É Precioso
Assírio & Alvim (outubro 2003)