via It’s like a heartbeat

Posted by: Jussara


He had never before felt so self-consciously young, nor experienced such appetite, such impatience for the story to begin.

[…] The anticipation and dread he felt at seeing her was also a kind of sensual pleasure, and surrounding it, like an embrace, was a general elation — it might hurt, it was horribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but he had found out for himself what it was to be in love, and it thrilled him.

(Ian McEwan in “Atonement“)



She returned his gaze, struck by the sense of her own transformation, and overwhelmed by the beauty which a lifetime habit had taught her to ignore.

[…] Finally he spoke the three simple words that no amount of bad art or bad faith can every quite cheapen. She repeated them, with exactly the same slight emphasis on the second word, as though she were the one to say them first. He had no religious belief, but it was impossible not to think of an invisible presence or witness in the room, and that these words spoken aloud were like signatures on an unseen contract.

(Ian McEwan in “Atonement“)



They were beyond the present, outside time, with no memories and no future. There was nothing but obliterating sensation, thrilling and swelling, and the sound of fabric on fabric, and skin on fabric, as their limbs slid across each other in this restless, sensuous wrestling. […] They moved closer, deeper and then, for seconds on end, everything stopped. Instead of an ecstatic frenzy, there was stillness. They were stilled not by the astonishing fact of arrival, but by an awed sense of return — they were face to face in the gloom, staring into what little they could see of each other’s eyes, and now it was the impersonal that dropped away.

(Ian McEwan in “Atonement“)



Was everyone else really as alive as she was?

[…] If the answer was yes, then the world, the social world, was unbearably complicated, with two billion voices, and everyone’s thoughts striving in equal importance and everyone’s claim on life as intense, and everyone thinking they were unique, when no one was.

[…] It wasn’t only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.

(Ian McEwan in “Atonement“)


Poste by: Jussara


I’ve seen it all, I’ve seen the dark
I’ve seen the brightness in one little spark.
I’ve seen what I chose and I’ve seen what I need,
And that is enough, to want more would be greed.
I’ve seen what I was and I know what I’ll be
I’ve seen it all – there is no more to see!

BÖRK   |  “I’ve seen it All” lyrics


Image via “I pity the violins

A Last Word


OH, for some cup of consummating might,

Filled with life’s kind conclusion, lost in night!
A wine of darkness, that with death shall cure
This sickness called existence! — Oh to find
Surcease of sorrow! Quiet for the mind,
An end of thought in something dark and sure!
Mandrake and hellebore, or poison pure! 
Some drug of death, wherein there are no dreams! 
No more, no more, with patience, to endure
The wrongs of life, the hate of men, it seems;
Or wealth’s authority, tyranny of time,
And lamentations and the boasts of man!
To hear no more the wild complaints of toil,
And struggling merit, that, unknown, must starve:
To see no more life’s disregard for Art!
Oh God! to know no longer anything!
Nor good, nor evil, or what either means!
Nor hear the changing tides of customs roll
On the dark shores of Time! No more to hear
The stream of Life that furies on the shoals
Of hard necessity! No more to see
The unavailing battle waged of Need
Against adversity! — Merely to lie, at last,
Pulseless and still, at peace beneath the sod!
To think and dream no more! no more to hope!
At rest at last! at last at peace and rest,
Clasped by some kind tree’s gnarled arm of root
Bearing me upward in its large embrace
To gentler things and fairer — clouds and winds,
And stars and sun and moon! To undergo
The change the great trees know when Spring comes in
With shoutings and rejoicings of the rain,
To swiftly rise an atom in a host,
The myriad army of the leaves; and stand
A handsbreadth nearer Heaven and what is God!
To pulse in sap that beats unfevered in
The life we call inanimate — the heart
Of some great tree. And so, unconsciously,
As sleeps a child, clasped in its mother’s arm,
Be taken back, in amplitudes of grace,
To Nature’s heart, and so be lost in her.

(Madison Julius Cawein)

Posted by: Jussara


A vida segue. Você se acostuma.

Quanto maior a perda, maior a quantidade de memórias esquecidas.

O olfato e a memória estão conectados no cérebro. Canela pode lhe lembrar do avental de sua avó. O cheiro de grama cortado pode evocar o medo infantil de vacas. O cheiro de óleo pode trazer à tona memórias de sua primeira travessia de balsa. Junto com o olfato, um oceano de imagens passadas desaparece.

[…] Primeiro o pânico. Depois vem a fome. É assim que o sentido do sabor desaparece do mundo.

[…] Não tiveram tempo de dar um nome à doença. Raiva. Fúria. Ódio. Depois a perda de outro sentido.

[…] Foi assim que a escuridão desceu sobre o mundo. 

Tudo o que os não afetados podiam fazer era esperar…

(Trechos do filme “Sentidos do Amor” narrados por Eva Green)

.

PERFECT SENSE (2011, Dir: David Mackenzie)  |  via Let the Days Collide



Assisti a esse filme no início de fevereiro. Por questão pessoais, talvez, fiquei tocada com estória, com a forma como o filme foi construído. Com as perdas… Isso não quer dizer necessariamente que o filme sejá ótimo. Ainda assim, eu gostei bastante.

É melancólico (talvez seja essa a razão). Poético, de certa forma. Apesar da tragédia que se anuncia desde o princípio, há beleza acompanhando o avanço gradativo da angústia e da destruição. Beleza que se intensifica ao máximo nos últimos momentos antes da escuridão derradeira.

A completa e irreversível perda de todos os sentidos é a única via para o “sentido perfeito”.

Diferente da visão de Saramago em “Ensaio sobre a Cegueira” (Blindness, 2008). Bem diferente!



Posted by: Carol (02h30)


If only I could’ve given you a real kiss today… I wish I could…

For Christ’s sake, why do I have feelings for you? You don’t even talk to me properly, as if I had some contagious disease or something like that!

This is a strange place indeed… Unwanted, undeserved and ANNOYING!!! I kind of hate it!