Quien eres Carlo Pedersoli ?

Passeio por mundos sem fim,
são,
passeios em vão. . .
num arco-iris, passeio assim,
e as vezes pelo escuro do fundo do coração
passeio neste solo sagrado
vou de mão em mão
passeio por todo o mundo que este rapaz já conheçeu.
Mas nunca passeio num mundo que é meu.

Quien eres Carlo Pedersoli?
Wer ist Robert Zimmermann?
Quem era Bernardo Soares?

People wear pseudonyms like they do wear masks, in call for a name they believe to suit them better in the occasion than the one´s their parents thought would do.
People wear those masks so close to skin that they vanish in them.
And act like they were supposed to.
But when we loose ourselves in the multiple characters we´ve called to be ourselves so we could fit in, we do not find the ground we used to stand on.
Or the one we´d like to get to.

Even when we´re trying not to

we get up every day with a diferent name

not knowing which one of them all might be ours.

We tend to say it´s all of them.

But we´re not willing to carry all of them at once.

Society

Society is an interesting concept . . .
It describes a group of people which can not clearly be identified, nor counted.
Though, it exists.
But its mostly just a word we use to say that there.s someone backing up our opinion while we.re pointing a finger at someone who.s different...

Hagen

Like in a dream I fly around my town in a thousand and one nights.

As the colours rush beside i notice that its not myself that keeps me high.

As if i cared about my yesterdays brabble. . . a re-edit of Aug 29/ 2008

If you are ever playing with the idea of taking a road trip to the end of the world, on the last day of your life, I guess I can give you a ride.
I m taking the fucking ride to the end of the world for years now, and, let me tell you, after a while it gets quite funny just watchin how every little thing in this endless road just keeps fallin apart and you re really never goin anywhere.
Just fuckin desert, endless miles, and some signs tellin you about distances to thenext town, just to give you a shitty little hope it may end one day.
Sometimes I ask myself, what would happen, if I.d ever to meet God on this way, and he gave me the chance to take this pain from me.
I think I.d just go and say: No, thanks. Just make me Maso instead, please.
So, why all that?
Well, first i believe that lifes like a puzzle. There s a greater idea behind it, you have the choice to make the picture on the box or throw the pieces around in the room for fun. Some people don t care about it all, others can.t seem to find the right clue and almost fall to pieces themselves, trying to build up the puzzle.
Whatever we think, want, choose, feel or do, we are all building up the same thing in the end. And I.m the kind of person, that just feels like knowing pretty everything about it, but not getting the right pieces.
ROOOAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH whatever.
I won t stop the car or trying to build the puzzle, I m just too curious about what its all gonna be like if I can make it. In fact I may even be waiting for this whole world to crumble down, just that I get to know how far I.ll make it in the end.
And somehow I like the challenge , and every step I get, I feel a little bit more powerful, closer of becoming able to destroy the whole fuckin game this is all about.
The constructive destruction theory. Now you know all about it.
Don.t forget:
We are yet living in paradise. We.re just making hell out of it.

This is not an anti-x-mas post . . .

As described in the title. . .
seems to be some controversy about this especial event that makes just everybody love or leave it.
Well, cross yourselves, caths, . . .
I.ve been out on the streets lately hushing for a late x-mas gift (why.s that called a late gift if i purchase it already before ?. . . whatever. . .) and yesterday I met a nice man who had a white beard , some tiny reading-glasses and an incredibly abstract laugh.
Well, I.m neither kidding nor talking about Santa Clause, I mean, it really happened, he´s an artist it seems and I was bound by the paintings he exposed on right there on the streets, in the middle of rush.hour Dortmund.
So I got to talk to him.
What happened the next 15 mins must have been magic.
It was an absolutely insane AND incredible non-sense conversation about the world and everything else, there in the middle of thousands of people that rushed in and out the shops to grab a last minute present.
As it was getting late, I told him I had to go on, but even before I could move he told me to stop and gave me one of his best paintings. I was astonished. It would be the perfect gift, so I insisted in paying.
He told me that I could buy him a christmas-tree instead of that.
So I went out and brought him the best tree I could find that evening. . .
So, whats this all about?
The nice old man is somebody with a free-spirit, I thought as I got home.
I mean, it.s simple. You work, you get paid, the money you earn is worth the afford you.ve had. You use it to buy things that people afforded almost the same way before. This is the vicious circle that made money so incredibly important to us that most of the people can´t see what it.s really standing for anymore, its just metaphor, standing for the hard-work you had.
That nice old men yesterday, who happens to be a wellknown painter (I didn.t know that. . . shame on me) , liked the 15min conversation so much that , in fact, he offered me a piece of his "time", of his effort, for a piece of mine.
"I couldn.t really want it to be in someone else´s hands," he told me.
Wonderful.
There are still genuine people out in the world.
And someone´s getting a 300€ painting this x-mas (my brother, don´t tell, pssss!!!! :P) . . .

So,

Merry Christmas to all of You :D

short thoughts

Sexuality

Sexuality is a rather interesting subject.
I wonder who came up with it.
It wasn´t God for sure. . .


Equality

All men are created equal.
Unless they find themselves a reason, why they shouldn´t . . .


A president

A president is an asshole we elect.
We always elect assholes because they are the only one´s that have a clear opinion.
(If we are in search for a positive clear opinion we need to go Disney. . . )


Minorities

Minority is a word we found to discriminate against people. If we didn´t have the word minority, majority would go minority. . .

A word on all those who wish they weren´t who they are

"Oh, I wished I was someone else"
-"Why that?"
"Because someone else is alsways better than me.
Happier.
Someone else finds love.
Someone else may be rich,
someone else has more sex and takes more drugs then me,
someone else doesn´t get lonely by night,
someone else is adored and spreads its marvel and astounishment by every single move he makes."
-"Well, an ambicious someone else you´ve choosen to be. And... I dislike him."
"...hum...what is wrong about him?..."
"He´s not real, not sincere, not able to touch someone´s heart. I myself tried to be someone else one day. I´ve grown cold, dark. The sex I´ve tasted was no love, and the love I´ve tasted fell apart because I couldn´t give it any damn value, I was so full of everything, of having and getting, that I never really cared about it.
And then I met someone like you, simple, thinkative, honest. Someone to rely on. And having given up the way I was and turnin myself into what I wanted to become suddenly made me feel so. . .stupid. . ."

Welcome to your Downfall

There ´s a greater beauty behind the way we communicate.
There can be drama, tears, fears, happiness, euphoria, emotion in resume.
There´s nothing we can think, say, paint, post, sing or act about that doesn´t have a certain kind of emotion in it, that doesn´t express a certain way of life.
And even standing still is as expressive as all from the above.
Between the choice of creating, or not, a blog whereas to show a little fragment of myself, it´s the first one to call.
So, first, I want to thank anybody who is ready to get involved in this experience. You really don ´t know what is coming your way, believe me . . . ;)

I´m a 24 year old free-time philosophe who has seen more from life yet than he´d ever expected to have seen by his 50s, somebody who still believes in love, though living in the perfectly wrong place for it, someone, who can write a bloody letter involving all his feelings he´d never be able to express on the outside, but who sometimes wakes up and wouldn´t be good enough to write the dialogues of a "Teletubbies" episode.
That´s life.
That´s what it´s about.
I love unperfectness. Adore it. I think it´s the only thing in this world that can still be perfect. Like, Fernando Pessoa once said, "a paradox can only be one, when it isn´t".

I think anarchy is the only way out of suffering for people around the world and still believe it must have some order.
This blog should be about ideas, feelings, confrontation with life.
This blog might be an antidote.
A savior for a downfall.
Let´s get this started. . .