29 November 2009


I want to fly.
Open my wings and take off.
I want to see the sky.
I want to see the land from above.

It's so wonderful to have wings.
But, what happens if you have wings but you don't know?
Everyone has a pair of wings waiting to be opened.
The problem is, when you open your wings for the first time,
Will you fly?
Or will you fall?

28 November 2009

small things

When I calm down and look around. Skies, why are people’s faces so boring? I wonder what they are thinking. It’s certainly not the first time, but each time, I feel more grateful than the one before. Life really is a miracle, a wonder. How curious the one wonder that is the most qualified for the Seven Wonders of the World isn’t included in it.
True that people use to feel unsatisfied. But that should be only to a certain degree, because there is always the satisfaction of being right here, right now. Who was it that said so? Oh, yes it was Avril Lavigne’s song. “I think about the little things that make life great.” How true is that? One should know in the heart. The little things that happen, that most of times we don’t take notice. Sometimes, that’s what makes life so different for each of you, each of us. It’s a wonder how small things can change our fate, our life so much. All those coincidences, all those small gestures, and those sentences that people say without even thinking about them, all of them are the part of life I’m most grateful about. Sure it’s not the thanksgiving day, but still, I want to thank all those people I met. Even those I hate, because those are the people that teach me the most, and if not, at least they taught me what is hate.

Hoshii wo nerae

When I look back, I wonder what I have accomplished. But, if I’m here, it may be not a coincidence. When I look around, I wonder what people are doing. But, if they are out there, they must have done so far to be present.
I used to look at people’s faces and think: another stranger passed by. But, time goes on and things do change. All the faces have written on them, a story that maybe it’s never been told before.
They are fighting. They are all fighting. No matter where I turn to, it’s the same. I see people fighting on and struggling for what they want. It makes me wonder what I have done so far. It’s not easy to live. I don’t think it’s a lie. Hey, pals, you are all working so hard. You keep running. I wonder if I can keep on. Changes sometimes come too fast, but as long as I am alive, I should fit myself in. I should, but, I don’t. When everything has always been in your reach, I wonder what happens if one day, that very person can’t reach anything anymore.
Looking from afar, I wonder what are all these people struggling for. What keeps us, you, them… going on living and fighting? There is a meaning to life isn’t there. There is a wish in everyone’s heart and mind, isn’t there?
I wonder what is mine. I really do. Meanwhile, I don’t want to lose to anyone.
That’s why,
Aim higher,
Aim for the sky,
Aim for the stars.
Let me keep looking forward and never ever give up. When I find what I truly want, I’ll decide where to shoot. For now, let the work begin.

21 November 2009

Rain II

Flash across my window.
I get up.
I open my window,
wind comes in blowing.
A smell,
a smell of rain.
I look up, at the sky.
It's grey, nearly black.
I feel uneasy.
What is this feeling?
Did I do anything wrong?
Did I forget something?
Am I waiting for something to come?
A ray of sunlight escapes from the clouds.
Somehow, I can breathe more easily.
I look around.
Even though there is sunlight, there seems to be no life.
A drop.
Another drop.
It's raining now.
More and more.
Somehow, the drops sound like music.
the music seems to be a happy one.
How can it be happy in such a dead day?
What gives? Why should anyone answer me?
It felt like an eternity went by.
I felt desperate, but rain washed it away.
I felt uneasy, btu rain took it away.
When the rain stopped,
I saw the sky, the true sky.
It was blue, and it was high.
I saw the grass, the strength in it.
It was green, and it was alive.
I felt relief,
I felt hopeful.
As if awaken from a long dream,
as if waking up for the first time,
as if being born in a new world,
as if I've never been there before,
I closed my window
and set for my journey.
Determined, hopeful and happy.


the most beautiful green is after the rain.
What the rain washes away,
I don't know.
I only know that,
after the rain,
the world is reborn.
Fresh air, wind.
Wet air, sea.
the most bright blue is after the rain.
What rain brings,
I don't know.
I only know that,
after the rain,
the world wakes.
white clouds, blue sky.
grey waves, dark sea.

28 October 2009

Isto, só nos filmes

O que acontece a uma pessoa que vai passar férias ao Algarve?? Supostamente...relaxa.
Mas não. O que acontece é que o computador para além de não quere funcionar, vai ao cúmulo de pegar fogo... Só visto.
Mais, nem uma noite sossegado?! É demais.
Será isto um sonho??? Não pode ser.
A polícia bate à porta. Truztruz. Porque será?
"Pode fazer o favor de me acompanha?"
Mas o que vem a ser isto? Acontece que... os doidos dos americanos viram filmes a mais e andaram a traficar droga no hotel. E quê??? Foram estúpidos, idiotas ao ponto de serem apanhados. Mais uma noite em branco. E para mais, na esquadra...
Isto, só em filmes... ou talvez não. Sonhos também devem servir, mas na vida real. Poupa-me tenho mais que fazer.
Mas, acontece.

26 October 2009



4 September 2009


Every morning, a gazelle wakes up.
It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed.
Every morning, a lion wakes up.
It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death.
It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle,
When the sun rises, you'd better start running.

Tomorrow, let's have a race. If I don't win, next time, in the next life, let's have a rematch. Just you wait, and one day I will win.

3 September 2009



2 September 2009

unpleasant car tour

There was this composition title that reminded me of something rather unpleasant.
The composition title was 'an unpleasant trip by car, ship or plane'. As a matter of fact, I did have one, recently.
Once, I was on a car to go to Wutai mountains with my family. On the road, we faced fog and heavy rain. Also, We saw several car accidents. Not one, several. I mean it was like...three...five...six. About six of them. Not quite a nice day to begin with.
Not long after that, I went to the tomb of my grandparents.
Death, is the word that comes most into my mind right now. I can't imagine how I didn't realize it before. I can't describe the feeling of watching so many things related to death in so short period of time. No, not horror movies. Those are not death related things, they are only pieces of art. But that trip was for real. Actually, on the road to the tomb, there was heavy rain. Even heavier than the time when we went to the mountains. The water was poured from the sky, and I mean it. I couldn't see anything from the car window, just running water. I was horrible. When the rain finally stopped, another series of car accidents were there waiting for me to see.
I felt like there was a theatre of death, but the play was one in which one would actually die.
Chilling...and creepy.



31 August 2009








30 August 2009




29 August 2009





25 August 2009

Memento Mori

«My dearest Syla,
It's been a while since I last wrote you. I wonder if you are still doing well writing your stories and making guesses. I'm finding my cases more and more difficult. I think it will be soon the day I'll need your impossible stories to solve my cases. Recently I'm trying yo solve a case involving a head of state.It seems like he was bribed to allow the construction of a tax-free transport centre where a natural park is. It's so complicated, the things you have to do and the papers to be submitted just because the charged one is an important politician. Can't it just go smoothly like with everyone else?...Whatever.
Maybe you could give me a hand some time.
Drowning under piles of paper,
Thus was the 6th mail Keering wrote to Syla since they parted ways.
One month passed without the mail being opened, two months passed without Keering receiving the reply.
«Dear Syla,
I haven't received the reply from the last time, but concerning the Freeport case in Alputorg, Croatess, who was held as a suspect was cleared of those charges. It's quite annoying.... and I was so sure that he's guilty! I guess it can't be helped.
Please say something, even if it's to tell me that I'm a looser.
Thus was the 7th mail Keering wrote to Syla, which did not receive a reply nor it arrived at its destination.
One month later, Keering, who didn't receive any notice from Syla, decided to pay her a visit.
When he arrived at the house where Syla used to live, he found it looking like a ghost house. No piece was left unturned in the house and it seemed not to be inhabited for a while for there was dust everywhere. Having no idea of where Syla could be, he took a walk in the forest to clear his thoughts.
"So, 4 months ago, she was okay, for she replied my letter. Then, probably 3 months ago something happened that forced her to leave her house and be unable to receive my letters? What could it be? Something suspicious is going on here..."
"For the exception that the one suspicious here is you and the something that happened didn't happen 3 months ago." Syla spoke walking out of her hiding place.
"Was I thinking aloud? You gave me a fright!" Keering was fairly surprised. "What happened to your house? It's in a real mess."
"Oh, really?" Syla faked surprise. "Why should I tell you?"
"How can you say that out of the blue? Aren't we friends? I may have not written you that often but I'm still thinking about you! Why would I care to come here if I wasn't worried about you?" Keering shouted. "You should just trust your friends!"
"How can you tell me to trust you? Can it be that you don't know you are a public security office inspector yourself?" Syla sounded desperate.
"I am an inspector, but that doesn't mean that I can't be your friend." Keering was trying to understand Syla.
"What if your friend is a wanted criminal and you are responsible for the case? What would you do?" Syla showed signs of tears.
Keering was shocked to see that Syla changed so much. She was not herself anymore, not the strong actress that he met on his way to Tomb village.
"Syla, I don't know what would I do then, but right now, I just want to help you. We'll think about that situation later, okay? Ah! That's right...I brought you the souvenir I bought in Pon. I'm not sure if you like it. It's a small plant that eventually turn into a sakura tree." He took out a small vase with a branch stick out of it and placed it in front of Syla. "Here. If you don't like it you can throw it away, I don't mind."
"I won't, not after you had the trouble of bringing it here. Thanks." Syla tried to smile but failed completely, starting to whimper.
Keering confronted with such a situation didn't know what to say nor what to do, hesitated a bit before stepping forward and hugged her.
"There was that incident which was made worldwide, about the nuclear test of Kilchu. My father.... and he commented that it may have not been nuclear at all, and the governors are trying to make it sound so, as to... and threat Aacreim with it. Then,... and he was charged for leaking national security information. ... death sentence."
Keering didn't hear everything Syla said, but he heard enough to understand what happened. He wiped her tears and tried to comfort her.
"It's hard to accept I know. Meanwhile, I'll stay by your side if you don't mind."
Syla remained silent for a while. Then, she did the unthinkable around a year ago. She clinged on Keering and huged him tightly.
"It's not the death of my father that is unacceptable. I guess, it was quite expected. I'm just afraid that the public security may want me dead as well. I just don't want to die just yet."
"Syla, it's fine. I'll do my best to protect you."
Syla seemed to calm a bit.
"What did you come here for?" she asked.
"What are you talking about? Of course I came to see you, because you didn't reply to me."
"Oh, is that so? What cases are you solving?" Syla seemed to be returning to her normal self bit by bit.
"Nothing worth mentioning." Keering seemed to care more about Syla's condition than his work.
"Then help me this." Syla pulled out a sheet of paper on which was written lots of technical information about the virus HiNi. "This is something I came across before my father was executed." She said 'executed' with so much ease that surprised Keering.
"But it happened a month and a half ago!"
"True. No one said my father was executed 3 months ago. As a matter of fact, it was 34 days ago."
"Then why did you not respond to my letter?"
"My father was being suspected, what would you do if you were me? Boast around that your father is being held suspect?"
"Sorry. So do you think this HiNi is a criminal move?"
"I don't think so. It's hard to use and control biological weapons. But if that was the case..."
"There is a high probability of skilled terrorism going around developed countries." Keering completed Syla's thoughts.
"It started in Coemix and is now all around the world. Is there any country that has not a single case?"
"No, I don't believe there is." Keering was searching his memory for answers. "How rival countries that have not many cases?"
"Maybe. I don't know. You know, I feel there is something else to it. I'm just not getting it."
"Should I take a look at the archives at the public security office to see if there's anything that might help?"
"Never mind it. I'm kinda sick of this."
"Shall we go for a trip? Maybe you should relax a bit more."
Syla agreed. And so, their hourney to Miene began.
It was a sunny day. Syla was happy and so was Keering. They were riding dragon ships.
"Beautiful. The view from here is awesome."
Keering saw for the first time Syla's true smile. Not fake, not mean, not on purpose. He was amazed how he could feel such heavenly happiness just by watching her smile.
"Is Miene a nice country?" Syla put up such an innocent face that made Keering want to kiss her. But he quickly shook off that idea.
"I don't know myself. I've never been there."
Syla wanted to ask something else when the ship rocked a bit. Then, when she could stand steady, the ship rocked again. As if trying to knock the passengers off, the ship began to rise and fall constantly and it even did a round turn.
"Are you alright? Anywhere hurt?" keering asked when he got hold of Syla's arm.
"I'm fine." Syla said, but she was trembling so much that Keering pushed her into his arms.
"Keering?" Syla's voice was tiny.
"It'll be fine." Keering garanteed even though he was rather scared himself.
Right after Keering finished speaking, the ship was torn apart and the dragons supporting the ship flew away. Luckily for Syla, but not for Keering, Syla landed on top of Keering.
"Awwww... It hurt."
As Syla didn't answer, Keering looked at her. Her eyes were tightly closed and her arms were tangled in a self hug.
"Syla, it's fine now. Could you stand please? You are sitting on me."
Syla stood up abruptly. Watching her trembling with fear, Keering hugged her again.
"See? Even tough it was rather dangerous, you managed to live out. Isn't that good?"
"Maybe." Syla sounded even more doubtful than the word 'maybe'.
"It's not maybe. There have been a lot of aircraft crashes. The one from Acerfrn disappeared without any trace."
Syla seemed like she was stroke by something.
"Wait, wait. wait. You said Acefrn?"
"Yeah. You didn't know? It's strange. It was made head news."
"What would happen if there was someone trying to be a God's envoy?"
"What do you mean?"
"I've just remembered the incident about Acefrn's aircraft. Wasn't it from Miene to Acefrn?"
"Not really, but it was something really similar. Why?"
"Look, the aircrafts that crashed all had something to do with Miene and partner countries. And we have this crucial problem called virus, right?"
"I'm following your thoughts, but I don't know what conclusion can you take from that. What is Miene?"
"One of the envoys I was talking about."
"Do you mean there are more?"
"One more. I think. Acefrn."
"Both Miene and Acefrn?"
"You see, Acefrn is a developed country and it has the means to develop defenses against the virus, even if in this case it's not being as quick as ... and .... But, when it turns into a pandemic, people in jails have less means to survive."
"So, they are envoys of justice."
"True. And about Miene. Not knowing that there was a culprit behind the scenes, is forcing aircrafts to crash, because it is the main way which the virus is being spread."
"I see. They are crushing all the ships that may bring virus."
"So Miene is the envoy of God to select people."
"But keep this as story, only between us."
"Fine. It's for your safety after all. Let's have this trip and your story as a memento for your father."
"Hmm!" Syla smiled happily.

23 August 2009

Turning back

When I was on my way to Pudong airport at Shanghai, I realized something that I'll never forget.
In the night, the lights of Shanghai make it look beautiful. True, it cause lots of polution but it looks truely amazing. The bus drives on... Tall buildings and rivers, rivers of cars flow. Somehow, something came to my mind. The me that was leaving China for the first time also went by the same streets, same crosses, but how come I don't recognize any of them?
The thing I realizd then was that in China, specially Shanghai, nothing remains unchanged for long. You can't call yourself a Shanghaise if you are away too long, and that too long may only be half a year! I return to this city almost every year, yet I have so many things to see every time. When I returned to China ans went by this road which name I don't know, it was in good state, but when I was about to leave China about a month later, the same extension of about a kilometer was completely torn open. But, I'm confident that 2 months later, it will be in a perfect state.
Shanghai city is now like a unfinished building. Flaws everywhere, lots of reconstruction occuring everywhere. However, one thing is sure, they'll all be done before Expo2010. I believe chinese are famous for being due on schedule or maybe ahead of it.
Somehow, Shanghai city is overwhelming and when I was about to leave and look behind the time I spent there, for the first time since I left China when I was younger, I felt like staying in China for a living. Things sure change... Faster than I thought.

16 July 2009


One more aircraft down. Has it already broken the record? Was it what? One month? 3 airplanes crashed and at least one did an emergency landing.
And I'm going to ride a plane next week. Ah............ I'm getting scared.
It's the first time I'm hesitating about going somewhere by plane, but since the ticket has already been bought, I guess I have to go. It's hard to make up my mind. Let's not be too negative. It's going to be fine.
Let's wait for good news next week. 2 trips by plane, if one doesn't fall the other one may do so. If I'm lucky enough, and aircraft repairing staff does their work well enough, I may survive and post again next week.

26 April 2009

Para onde caminhamos?

Certo dia ao almoço, a expressão 'gripe suína' foi mencionada. O que daí veio, pouco se podia prever.

O que acontece quando se apanha grípe suína? A pergunta paira no ar, enquanto que o almoço, que no caso era entrecosto, ia sendo comido. Bom... teoricamente, uma gripe é uma gripe, ou seja, o vírus possivelmente tem uma taxa de mutabilidade elevada. Então, não vale a pena ter uma vacina, a não ser que seja actualizada todos os anos , por exemplo. E.....

Isto leva-nos ao teste de Biologia 12ºano onde vinha a pergunta sobre a possibilidade da existência de uma vacina para a SIDA (AIDS). O que nos leva a como a SIDA é transmitida. O que erradamente lembrou alguém de mosquitos. E mosquitos leva a malária. (As voltas que uma conversa pode dar.)

Alguém referiu o facto do governo chinês ter fornecido a técnica de um certo tratamento para a malária a países africanos. O que pôs um certo alguém a pensar nas investigações a decorrer nos vários países desenvolvidos do mundo.

E tudo isto seria uma introdução? Para quê? Para chegar a ideologias de que ninguém quer saber? Que seja.

O objectivo inicial da investigação científico-tecnológico seria o de aumentar o conhecimento e consequentemente pôr esse conhecimento ao serviço do Homem (que algum dia se passará a escrever sem o H inicial). E se vires bem agora, tenho quase a certeza que a maioria dos medicamentos e tratamentos não estão ao serviço daqueles que precisam. Qual a utilidade de ter uma patente para um dado medicamento se isso não ajudar as pessoas a sobreviver? Pergunto-me se os investigadores nunca se sente frustrados com a inutilidade daquilo que fazem e produzem. Sim, porque apesar de um punhado de gentinha puder usar alguns medicamentos avançados para curar doenças altamente prejudiciais, entretanto milhares de pessoas podem estar morrer. O que nos leva ao capitalismo.

É certo que o capitalismo é a solução certa para o mundo. É por isso que temos capitalismo por todo o lado. Mas, o capitalismo não deixa de ter muitos, muitos, mesmo muitos problemas. O que nos faz querer virar um pouco para o comunismo ou socialismo? Ou não. Não, definitivamente.

A questão é: Um sistema problemático capaz de sustentar o mundo (ou pelo menos grande parte dela) ou um sistema ideal incapaz de se alcançar enquanto o Homem for Homem?

É certo que podemos pôr o socialismo em prática, o que leva a... sabe-se lá o quê a que chamaria catolicamente de apocalipse. É certo que o capitalismo sustenta todos os países desenvolvidos, e muitos em desenvolvimento, mas, mesmo dentro do capitalismo, as pessoas apelam à caridade. Isto não será uma manifestação do desejo de comunismo? Mas para isso, é preciso que todos trabalhem de boa vontade e cumpram com responsabilidade a sua parte, o que não vai acontecer, não até o Homem deixar de ser Homem. É a natureza do Homem. (pelo menos de muitos homens e mulheres.)

No meio de todo um mundo caótico, para onde caminhamos?

11 April 2009

the most certain thing in life

I wake up in the middle of the night, what do I feel? Loneliness and a deep darkness that surrounds me and take my breath away. I can't breathe. It's the so called "THE END", which is the most certain thing in one's life.
I look arround, and, even though I can't see anyone, I know they are somewhere out there. Do they fear not death?
Cowardice. That is what it is called, often, fear of death. But there's nothing I can do. I do panic over even the idea of death. Believing in God or Gods does not help... It's only running away.
I feel more calm now, but still, the idea blocks my mind. Is there really no escape?
For everything that has a beginning there should be an end.
No one ever returned from death to tell what it's like.
I try to imagine the future, but my mind goes blank and I can only see a dark night. A night darker than black that keeps me from moving. It's hard to tell, but, I don't think one will have anyone alongside in this kind of night.
The breath of life is so easily swept away.
What is left?
Cold bodies.
Thinking all night long is a bad exercise, for which I had only one conclusion, ever. There is no meaning in life.
Maybe the meaning of life is having no meaning. If everything goes back to the same, does it even worth having the work to try?
I do panic over the emptiness of life.
I do panic over the end of everything I treasure.
Yet... It doesn't keep me from moving foward... always.
There is no way I'd stop.
There is no time.

Jessica? Let's make a promise. Don't waste time panicking anymore.

1 April 2009

Era uma vez... uma verdade mal contada

Era uma vez, num universo em guerra, uma velha contava histórias aos seus netos.
- Meus meninos, já nada disto é novo para mim. - dizia ela sempre que ia começar a contar uma nova história.
Os meninos, muito atentos, ouviam-na em silêncio e faziam as perguntas esperando pela sua vez.
Era uma vez, uma história que ela contou, uma história que os meninos ouviram, uma história que ficou na História, uma história que continua.
«Há muitos anos, viviam num palácio no Norte, um príncipe e a sua prometida. A princesa tinha uma amiga inseparável a quem ela contava tudo. Um dia, porém, a princesa foi raptada por um príncipe do Sul. O príncipe do Norte não parecia muito incomodado pela falta da princesa, pensando que ela tinha saído numa das suas excursões de caridade. Por outro lado, dia após dia, o príncipe do Sul ia murmurando palavras doces ao ouvido da amiga da princesa, e ela ia fazendo tudo o que lhe era pedido. A amiga foi ficando cada vez mais presa na rede de mentiras que o príncipe do Sul tecia, afastando-se cada vez mais da realidade, não notando a falta da princesa. Todos os dias passavam como se nada tivesse acontecido.»
- Como é que ninguém notou que a princesa foi raptada? - os meninos, muito impacientes, ficaram curiosos.
- O príncipe do Sul, era muito subtil em tudo o que fazia, por isso, era muito difícil distinguir o que estava diferente e o que não estava. - respondeu a velha.
«Certa vez, a confidente da princesa acordou e não encontrou nem a princesa nem o príncipe de quem ouvia as palavras doces, sentiu como se tivesse perdido algo de precioso. Saiu de rompante do palácio e encontrou um pequeno gancho partido que pertencera à princesa na porta das traseiras. Finalmente, a confidente apercebeu-se de que algo de mal acontecera à princesa. Quando ela comunicou o acontecimento ao príncipe, este ficou confuso, pois não entendia como ninguém se tinha apercebido do sucedido. Olhando à sua volta, como se acordasse de um longo sonho, reparou como já nada permanecia igual.
Assim que o príncipe do Norte soube do rapto da princesa, decidiu comandar o seu exército e marchar ao encontro do culpado. No entanto, por mais que tentasse não o conseguia identificar. O tempo passou sem que ninguém desse conta. Quando foram encontrados pistas de que o príncipe do Sul era o culpado, a confidente da princesa não podia acreditar que um príncipe tão gentil e atencioso pudesse ser o vilão. Tempo era aquilo de que não dispunham, mas mesmo assim, a amiga da princesa levou algum até aceitar os factos. Canalizou todo o seu esforço para encontrar o príncipe do Sul e a princesa na tentativa de libertar a sua fúria. Apesar de tudo, era difícil localizar o príncipe do Sul. Enquanto o príncipe se concentrava a encontrar o esconderijo do príncipe do Sul e da princesa raptada, pormenores passavam-lhe ao lado. Um certo príncipe do Ocidente aproveitou a distracção do príncipe do Norte para seduzir a confidente da princesa, que na sua frustração contra o príncipe do Sul não tinha reparado que estava a cometer o mesmo erro.
Um dia, o príncipe do Norte anunciou a descoberta do paradeiro do príncipe do Sul. Para fazer justiça, foi-lhe proposto a realização de um duelo para determinar aquele que iria ficar com a princesa. O príncipe do Norte, frontal como era aceitou de bom grado. A confidente da princesa ficou muito contente e apressou-se a contar o sucedido ao príncipe do Ocidente. Cauteloso como era, o príncipe do Ocidente revelou que iria retirar-se para o seu reino durante algum tempo, evitando conflitos.
Na manhã em que se seguiu, a confidente da princesa alimentou o seu sentimento de ódio e frustração contra o príncipe do Sul fechando-se no seu quarto imaginando-se a conversar com a princesa novamente, como nos velhos tempos. Quando a hora do duelo chegou, a rapariga saiu do seu quarto com um passo decidido, determinada a humilhar o príncipe do Sul, quando este perdesse o duelo.
O duelo durou pouco tempo. A amiga da princesa, que sempre assumira que o príncipe do Norte iria ganhar, sofreu um desgosto enorme, pois o príncipe não só fora derrotado com facilidade, como ainda fora humilhado e afugentado para fora do seu próprio território. À saída da arena, o príncipe do Sul deparou-se com a rapariga que tentara seduzir para manter o rapto da princesa em segredo. A confidente da princesa sentiu a sua a raiva e revolta a vir à superfície. O príncipe do Sul deve ter sentido o mesmo pois apressou-se a tentar acalmá-la com as suas palavras.
- Querida, não posso consentir que me tenhas como inimigo. – disse docemente.
- Porque não? Raptaste a minha melhor amiga! – queixou-se a donzela.
- Sejamos razoáveis. Eu não a raptei, ela é que quis vir comigo a todo o custo. Doce, se ela é a tua melhor amiga, devias saber melhor que ninguém que ela queria livrar-se daquele senhor orgulhos e convencido.
Tentando encaixar todas as acções da princesa na teoria do seu príncipe, levada pela subtileza das mentiras do príncipe do Sul, a donzela voltou a ficar presa da rede. Mais tarde, a princesa e a sua confidente foram reunidas. A suposta vítima do rapto ficou agradavelmente surpreendida.
- Estou tão feliz por te ver! - disse a princesa, apertando a sua amiga num abraço.
- Fico contente por te encontrar sã e salva. - respondeu a amiga entre lágrimas e risos.
As duas donzelas, presas na rede do príncipe do Sul sem se darem conta, viviam os seus dias numa falsa felicidade. A princesa mantinha o seu sorriso porque não queria que a sua amiga pensasse que não estava feliz por a ver, e a sua amiga, por sua vez, mostrava-se sempre sorridente tentando não estragar a aparente alegria da princesa. Apesar de falsa, a felicidade também não durou muito. O príncipe do Ocidente, com inveja do príncipe do Sul por ter as duas donzelas mais belas do universo, entrou sorrateiramente no palácio do príncipe do Sul e levou consigo aquela que lhe pareceu mais manipulável, a confidente da princesa.»
- Então, os príncipes do Sul e do Ocidente são maus? - perguntaram os meninos na sua santa inocência.
- Meus meninos, e o que é ser mau? - respondeu a velha, pacientemente. - Paremos por hoje. Já estou cansada.
A velha parou de contar naquele dia. O que não estava previsto era que a velha nunca mais pôde continuar a contar a história aos meninos que esperavam ansiosamente para ouvir o final. A velha fora presa por difamação de membros do estado.
Pergunto-me qual era o final da história que a velha tinha para contar. Pergunto-me se o final era igual ao final da história que a velha ama sempre me contava.
«Com o desaparecimento da sua amiga, a princesa encontrou em si uma grande vontade de fugir ao controlo do príncipe do Sul. A fuga era extremamente difícil, no entanto, a princesa não desistiu nunca e após numerosas tentativas, finalmente conseguiu livrar-se das teias do príncipe do Sul. Apesar da fuga ter tido sucesso, havia mais um problema: era ainda mais difícil fugir às garras do príncipe do Ocidente.
Com este evento, começou uma guerra sem fim entre os príncipes do Ocidente e do Sul para competir pela posse das donzelas. Por vezes, ambas estavam no palácio do príncipe do Sul ou do Ocidente, outras vezes estava uma em cada palácio.
- Nós não somos troféus para se conquistar. - suspirou a princesa.
- Vamos conseguir sair daqui. - garantiu a amiga.
Por mera sorte, a princesa conseguiu libertar-se dos príncipes em guerra, enquanto estes se concentravam na disputa pela sua amiga. Perdida, numa terra deserta, encontrou o seu prometido, o príncipe do Norte que tinha sido escorraçado para fora do seu próprio reino. Juntos, juraram ajudar a libertar a amiga, presa nas intrigas dos outros dois príncipes.
Sabendo do reencontro entre a princesa e o príncipe do Norte, adivinhando ao mesmo tempo o que estaria para vir, os príncipes do Ocidente e do Sul deixaram de lado as suas intrigas e uniram-se para evitar que a amiga da princesa fosse salva, bem como capturar de novo a princesa.
Por inúmeras vezes a princesa foi capturada, e o príncipe do Norte subjugado, mas, conseguiram sempre ultrapassar as dificuldades. Poucas foram as vezes que conseguiram recuperar a confidente da princesa. Dessa poucas vezes, em todas, a rapariga voltou a ser encarcerada. Apesar de tudo, o príncipe do Norte e a sua prometida nunca desistiram. A esperança era a última a morrer.
Por longos anos, a guerra continuou. Por outros longos anos irá continuar.»
Foi este o final da história que a ama me contou.
Perguntei-me sobre o que não era de novo na história. Finalmente, vi que apenas a forma de contar era diferente, dissimulada.
Todas as personagens têm nome, nomes conhecidos de toda a gente.
O príncipe do Norte seria o Bem, a princesa sua prometida, a Verdade. A melhor amiga, seria a Justiça. Os príncipes do Sul e do Ocidente seriam, respectivamente, o Poder e o Ouro.
Um dia, no longínquo futuro, haverá esperança de uma velha ama contar a mesma história com um final mais feliz?
Onde há luz, há sombra…

30 March 2009

A Wind of Spring

C.JS tem o orgulho de apresentar o blog 'A Wind of Spring':

A Wind of Spring
a partir de Abril, novos capítulos no início de cada mês.

14 February 2009


Sitting by the window
looking at the sky
What can I see?
A star shines upon me. a cloud rounds the star and the sky looks unsually beautiful
I wonder what is this feeling of easiness and peace
Yet another day has ended....
and I am again the same
Sitting by the window
looking at the sky
thinking about nothing
What can I do?
The wind cools me down, the cold makes me shiver and the sky looks darker now
I wonder what is this feeling of nostalgia and sadness
Yet another night comes.....
and I am still the same
Sitting by the window
looking at the sky
thinking about nothing
dreaming of a sky from the distant future


What a beautiful word. Difficult to define, like every emotion and feeling, but the most hard to define from them all.
It's scientifically proved that people in love would only care about the one they love. That is, they have less probability of looking to other person of the opposite gender no matter how wonderful they are.

Walking down a street in a small town, looking around myself, I begin to wonder....... Love, must be a good feeling. I have just finished reading "The Unlikely Romance of Kate Kill Bjorkman", by Louise Plummer. It was definetely highly unlikely to happen, but who knows. It's not like Love is a logical thing. But the memory of that book left a good feeling.
In this happy afternoon, the sun lit everything, even my soul. This sun is a wonder in the winter, it's a true gift.
I wonder if love is also a gift.
Wondering does not help, how about treasuring every moment? be it bad or good.

2 February 2009


Ah.......Another has gone flying. I'm getting old......do not want that.....

There was a time that I heard saying that the childhood is the Golden age. Thinking back, I think most people say that. I don't know why, but I think it's not true. People may say that children have no worries, so they are happy. I say different. Maybe newborns don't think, but children do think and have their worries.

I can still remember worries of my past self. I wrote them down so I'd never forget about what's being a child. Children only worry about petty things, I remember someone saying that. True. But..........only to those who are outsiders. I'd rather be satisfied if I had also heard a child denying that someone saying that adults'd worry over things even more meaningless. But I'm straying from what I wanted.

February 2nd was my birthday.
I was pretty happy. It's not like many people remembered but at least some remebered.
At night, when my mother returned with my birthday cake. It was a nice small wallnut chocolate cake. When tasting it, I thought to myself that cakes were a nice tradtion.
Then, I wondered who would be the person that began with the idea of having birthday cake. I know it is done since Ancient Roman times, but who would be the genius?
It really was a great idea. Though I do not live in the Ancient Roman times, I want to congratulate the person who demanded the first birthday cake.
"Thank you and Congratulations", if any of descendants of this very person are around here.

And so......I entered the age when I've heard people call the Rain season, leaving the Flower season behind.

2 January 2009


Yet another year has come.
The last year has already gone. It's since I last thought about what I should do for my future. I wonder what I really have done this year. It seems like I haven't done anything worth mention. Maybe I should just get a bit more serious. Sometimes, life is not that easy.
For the next year, I want to write more, to draw more and better. I want to be stronger and I'll work hard for all that. Let me pray...

River flows, tell me that I should forget the past year and step foward for a new begin. It says life. That said. I shall begin to think about the next time Syla comes to stage. And also when will I introduce Jennya and Elfin, or should it be Jessica?