segunda-feira, 23 de abril de 2012

The (in)significance of life.

It is not like I want to major in philosophy. Nor I want to say my truth is utter. But I often keep thinking on that meaning of life, if any. Would that only be "be born, grow up, breed, and die"? If that is so, I will definitely skip the procreation part. Well, it might be only that, I`m afraid. Life may actually be only about living and dying. And we are often looking for something else. We like the idea of having a mission in this world. And we keep dreaming things will always get better, and more meaningful. Is life about its course? Is life about humans? Is life about non-humans? Are we just walking the path of life to death and that is it? What is it, then? Was I supposed to feel fulfilled with only that? I think the older you get, the hopeless you get. I used to think there was more. But I keep losing that feeling. As the years go by, I get more and more used to my ordinary life. Not having a great plan, or a big dream became confortable, and enough. It is not like I am giving up. I just realized that sometimes we overestimate life. And that is why people die disappointed. They have the feeling they haven`t accomplished anything. But the fact is, this "normal" life we live, is exactly what we have to accomplish. Maybe, it became so normal to live, and because our eager to be more than we can is growing each day, that we do so much, and recognize so little. I am not saying we should not dream, neither am I saying we should not expect for something else, something bigger. I am just saying we cannot live our lives upon these dreams, and forget the actual act of living, and growing. We sure will always need more. But we cannot understimate what we already have, and overestimate what we dream to have. This lack of meaning might be an answer. Life is about life. Life is about how you live it. People are taking it as a race. The only race you are, is the race of life against death. And we all know how that race ends. So, I would stop waiting for more, and start living the "now". It is not me being a conformist. It is me being a realist. Life might have another meaning, I am not the one to say it does not. But if there is not, we will all die with the feeling we were nothing to the world; with the feeling we only had bad jobs, disturbed families, small dreams, shallow relationships, boring lives. If life has a different meaning, let this meaning show when it is suitable. Stop looking for it as if the meaningless was not there. Life may seem insignificant. Life may have no meaning. But you are here, and you must live it. We are nothing in this world, and yet, without us, the world would be nothing. So at the same time you feel your life is insignificant, learn nothing would be the same without you. That is the meaning you were looking for.

sexta-feira, 20 de abril de 2012

I am everybody.

I am the one who does not have excuses,
I am the one who never refuses.
I am that woman who wakes up early in the moring,
That being who does not have time for mourining.
I am the learner who goes to college,
That student who must inhale knowledge.
I am the poet who creates fine rhymes,
I am the artist who will endure lifetimes.
I am the worker who produces for long hours,
The fighter who transforms tiredness into powers.
I am the kids at play,
I am the teenagers who never obey,
I am the adults who will not complain.
I am all of those. I am all of you.
The woman, the student, the worker, the fighter.
The kids, the teenagers, the adults, the three at the same time.
I am not less than I should be.
I am much more than I thought I could take.

domingo, 15 de abril de 2012

A clean well-lighted place by Hemingway - Analysis

TRABALHO DE LITERATURA NORTE-AMERICANA - FACULDADE CCAA

A clean, well-lighted place is a representation of the struggle with moral and psychological aimlessness. A representation of the search for meaning and the feelings of emptiness. Hemingway suggests that life has no meaning, and that man is an insignificant part in this world of nothingness. It reflects the period after World War I, when the Lost Generation writers were in seek of meaning to the meaningless life they were living in. WWI destroyed the illusion that acting virtuously brings any good. A clean, well-lighted place is a story of despair and loneliness.

The name of this short story represents the opposite of nothingness. While the feeling of nothingness is chaotic, confusing and dark, the Café, where the story takes place, is clean, organized, and well-lighted. One of the characters, the old man, cannot run away from dispair and nothingness, but he can disguise this feelings when he is an place where he can find cleaningness, organization and light.

The characters also play an important role of representation in the story. The old man and the old waiter, representing the idea of loss and nothingness, and the young waiter representing the people who do not care about others` feelings, and others` story of life. The characters are the representation of the main theme, which is life as nothingness.

The symbols play an important role when setting us to the context of the story. The café as being the opposite of Hemingway`s idea of life; the deafness of the old man making him lonelier than others, as well as the fact he does not have a wife, only a niece who saved him from death. This niece is not a representation of someone who brought light to his dark life, but she is the one who stopped him from finishing with his meaningless life. When we learn that the old man tried to kill himself, but failed, we understand that not even death can save us. That is the reason why the old man goes to the café; it is the only scape. Also, when we learn that the younger man is eager to come back to his wife, and at the same time the old man does not have his wife anymore, we understand happiness is transitory. That is the reason why the older waiter identifies himself to the old man. Because he is facing the same kind of emptiness in his life, too; emptiness which he names insomnia. When the older waiter says that he stays up all night in the café because he has insomnia, we can understand that as an irony. Just an excuse to stay there, because in fact he is lonely, and in dispair just like the old man. The old waiter`s insomnia tells us that people insist in hiding the problems underneath excuses; he does not have insomnia, he is in dispair. Another symbol is the prayer the old waiter says. When the older waiter starts saying his prayer using the word “nothing” and “nada”, it reflects Hemingway’s idea that even religion cannot save us from dispair. Not even people who turn to religion can be saved from themselves and from nothingness life is. All these symbols help us to see the underwater part of the story.

A clean, well-lighted place is a representation of Hemingway`s Iceberg writing style. Only the tip is visible, the rest is underwater, unsaid. The tip is a story of a sad old man. But when you read deeply the story, and when you understand the symbols, you can see what is underwater: the criticism to society, the criticism to WWI, and life as being nothing, after all.

Gil Vicente e Obra.

TRABALHO DE LITERATURA PORTUGUESA - FACULDADE CCAA


Poeta de renome, e geralmente considerado o primeiro grande dramaturgo Português , Gil Vicente foi, além de músico e ator, o pai do teatro Português. Sua obra reflete a passagem de uma era de inflexibilidade, por ser regida por hierarquias e ordens sociais, para uma sociedade questionadora.

Com uma grande diversidade de formas, (auto pastoril, alegoria religiosa, narrativas bíblicas, farsas episódicas e autos narrativos) a obra vicentina vem do seguimento do teatro ibérico popular e religioso que já se fazia. Sendo um crítico severo dos costumes (rindo se castigam os costumes) , Gil Vicente é também, um dos mais importantes autores satíricos da lingua portuguesa. Gil vicente demosntra em suas obras, sua refinada capacidade de observação e crítica à sociedade portuguesa do século XVI.

Uma das representações de sua refinada capacidade de observação e crítica à sociedade portuguesa do século XVI, é a Trilogia das Barcas. A mistura de elementos da farsa, representados pelos personagens, com os elementos alegóricos religiosos e místicos, é uma das boas representações de seu poder satírico e crítico. Seus personagens são extraídos do espectro social português, demonstrando a crítica feita pelo autor, não à religião, mas às pessoas que a usam para o próprio benefício.
O Auto da Barca do Inferno, classificado pelo próprio autor como “auto de moralidade”, pode ser considerado o reflexo do pensamento de Gil Vicente sobre a sociedade em que vivia. Com a crítica sendo feita às pessoas, e não à religião, o autor demonstra como a religião e a ideia de “Bem” e “Mal” eram usadas apenas para o benefício próprio das pessoas.

Uma sátira social, o Auto da Barca do Inferno representa o Juízo Final, onde os personagens representam as profissões existentes em Portugual. Cada personagem foi condenado por motivo de desvio de caráter religioso, e carregam consigo, objetos que representam suas vidas terrestre; ou até mesmo trazem consigo o visual e o modo de falar terrestres. Os únicos a serem absolvidos são o Parvo, considerado o tolo sem malícia, e os Cavaleiros por terem “lutado em nome de Jesus Cristo”. O Parvo é a representação daquele que não usa seu raciocínio para enganar às pessoas. Os Cavaleiros são a representação, e talvez uma sátira, das pessoas que são absolvidas de todo e qualquer pecado, com a condição de lutarem em nome de Cristo. Todos os outros personagens são condenados à Barca do Inferno, cada um com sua característica social. A Nobreza é representada por um Fidalgo; o Clero é representado por um Frade, o ofício manual pelo Sapateiro, o Judicial pelo Corregedor e Procurador; agiotas e ladrões pelo Judeu e Onzeneiro; mistificadores por Brísida Vaz.

A crítica de Gil Vicente não às instituições, mas aos membros que as desvirtuaram, mostra que a morte iguala a todos, e que a vida é transitória. O humor contido na obra é representada pelo caráter do Parvo, que sendo pobre de espírito não mede suas palavras. Assim também como o Fidalgo sendo gozado pelo Diabo, tendo seu orgulho pisado. E ainda, a linguagem do Diabo zombando e imitando a fala de alguns personagens.

Gil Vicente representa com requinte a sua crítica aos costumes, dando vida ao seus pensamentos sobre a sociedade em que vivia. Um reflexo sobre a passagem de uma sociedade de hierarquia e ordem social inflexível, para uma época questionadora.

quinta-feira, 12 de abril de 2012

Apocalipse humano.

Qual é o limite, a linha tênue entre participar da vida de uma pessoa e simplesmente invadir o espaço desta pessoa? Em qual momento da vida, as pessoas esqueceram-se da lei básica de convívio em que diz: "Meu espaço. Seu espaço." (separados por ponto final e não por vírgula). Quando que a vida particular das pessoas tornou-se de poder público?

Há algum tempo, eu culparia a nova geração formada por pessoas mal-educadas e sem discernimento. Mas essas mesmas pessoas foram educadas pela geração passada. Ou seja, a falta de educação e limite não começou de agora. Esse é o tipo de categoria humana que em que não há preconceitos: jovens, idosos, ricos, pobres, negros, brancos, ruivos, mulatos, familiares e ainda, pessoas que nem ao menos lhe conhecem; todo e qualquer tipo de pessoa pode estar no meio dessa raça desprezível de invasores.

É insuportável saber que a sua vida, o seu trabalho, a sua casa e a sua privacidade, ou até mesmo eu diria, a sua paz, estão comprometidos. Estamos lidando com um caso de apocalipse de um novo tipo de invasor. Estão invadindo nosso espaço, nossa mente, nossa particularidade, e claro, como todos os invasores, eles não pedem licença.

De onde vem toda essa falta de limite? Pensei que talvez nós pudéssemos ser os causadores disso tudo. Sim. Nós os invadidos podemos ser os causadores da invasão. Será que nos deixamos à disposição dessa nova raça? Será que somos educados demais para lidarmos com esse tipo muito mal-educado de gente? Somos nós que devemos impor limites? Sim. Eu digo que sim. Mas a coisa vai muito além do nosso alcance. Como impor limite à alguém que não conhecemos, e que ainda assim falam de nós, nos julgam, e opinam na vida que não é deles; uma vida que nunca vai fazer parte do contexto social dessas pessoas.

É de nosso dever preservar o nosso espaço imaginário, e ainda, o espaço real, da nossa particularidade e da nossa privacidade. Porém, há algo muito além do nosso poder. Esse vírus, que espalharam nas garrafas de água mineral, que fez com que as pessoas perdessem o senso de limite. E assim caminhamos para um mundo e para uma sociedade muito mais descontrolada. E assim caminhamos para o caos. E assim, podemos entender a razão pela qual existe uma lei que proíbe o porte de armas para a maioria da população. Se todos tivessem acessos às armas de fogo, estaríamos um exterminando ao outro.

segunda-feira, 9 de abril de 2012

Narrow lines.

Sometimes it`s hard to just sit and write. And I always told people that`s the only way I can write. The thing is: not always you just sit and do stuff. There are somedays you need an inspiration. And when everything is such a mess, you need that mess to be your inspiration of the day. So let`s write about mess.

The world is a mess. My country is a mess. My state is a mess. My city is a mess. My neighborhood is a mess. My street is a mess. My house is a mess. My room is a mess. My bed is a mess. I am a mess. And my mind...likewise.

And then you sit and try to write, anyways. And they ask you to write about coherent things. Coherent ideas, coherent sentences, and with cohesive devices. Well, let me tell them something: life is not coherent. Do you all want me to write about reality? So deal with the mess! I just cannot sit and write like I was a genius of words and put my thoughts in order, sometimes. Put me in jail for that, then. When nothing makes sense, I can only write about senselessness.

We are regular people trying to survive to our regular lives with our regular jobs and our regular dreams. Could this be more messy? I don`t think so. And trying to survive to this messy regular reality, we tend to be confused, and worse, grounded. How are we supposed to sit and do stuff, in the middle of this heavy mishmash? That`s what I ask myself some days. We are not crazy nor sane.

Narrow people, narrow talks, narrow minds; therefore, my narrow lines. I am just limited. My wings were cut. My dreams were taken. My head was shaken. My ideas were all mistaken. This costume party we are living in is taking the brightest sunshine away from me. What am I supposed to sit and write about now, that I am just trustless?

Well I guess I should keep up with the narrow lines of mine. I will fulfil your needs. And lie down. And fall asleep. And wake up. And do the same old shit I do everyday. I will keep up with the mess I am, with the mess I live in, with the mess life is. And wait til the day this mess will turn into something less meaningless. And so I will be able, again, to sit and write about things I really like and believe. Because now, I just believe nothing.

quarta-feira, 4 de abril de 2012

Imperative verses.

Do what you love. Do it right.
Stand up. Do what you gotta do.
Open up your eyes. See reality.
Stop crying. Wash your face.
Be brave. Have guts.
Work on your art. Work hard.
Fight your enemies. Win the fight.
Step forward. Never look back.
Face your fears. Never back down.
Keep dreaming. Turn your dreams into reality.
Study hard. Learn from practicing.
Follow the rules. Break some of the rules.
Make right choices. Make mistakes.
Fix the mistakes. Learn from mistakes.
Think for yourself. Make your own conclusions.
Judge yourself. Never judge others.
Live your life. Live the most of it.
Do it and do it now!