No clouds in the horizon

It's funny that we ended up this way.
I guess you could say I belong to the abyss, for time and again I've been winding up here. Perhaps lately I've been more searching than avoiding it.
There's no comprehension so far for this thing I feel. All this rage, astir. Morosely swallowing its chains. It's me, and it hurts me. For all this time the solution was simply making sure its target was only me. But if even the bones of our backs tend to bend over time, how could these answers not befall the same ordeal in due time?
Your back aches, your neck hurts, your stomach suffers. All these strange symptoms popping around your body, is it time?


I feel tired when I go there. I always heard you shouldn't go to work as if you were headed to the slaughter.
Maybe I should've paid heed to their words before.
It's true.


I feel I've overdid myself in my frenzy. It wasn't an all-out social suicide but it was... some sort of teaser. I believe there's way more triggers now.
All these triggers...


Do you think we can make it through the elections?
We'll brace up, we'll lock down.
If we control it all the way through, do you think it's gonna be okay?
We'll silence the noise, we'll focus our eyes.
Could you please answer me in a way that makes me feel you're you?


Guess that's payback.
I don't know how to control it. Time flies.
I keep on saying that I love you but I do not prove. We've been distant all the way up to now. And possibly for many more days on end. I feel like saying I'm sorry but I'm the one who seems to sink. You didn't abandon me one darn minute, not even when I sleep. You've always there, and once I sleep we're together. A never-ending role fest, where all can be new by merging the past.
I can't say sorry, except for the fact that I've been weak. A coward and a sinner.
A coward and a sinner.
A betrayer and a killer.

Build up

Começa lindo na teoria esse papo de "o grande problema dos brasileiros é que a pessoa prefere ganhar 5 mil enquanto os outros ganhem mil, do que todo mundo ganhando 10 mil", e é interessante porque dá a ideia de que deviamos cooperar em melhorar pra geral em vez de lutar pra se salvar e deixar os outros se fuderem.
Era a forma que eu tinha olhado a primeira vez, mas agora entendo que muitos veem como uma crítica a "ganhar muito dinheiro" e preferem que todo mundo ganhe igual para não haver diferenças. E isso pra mim é insano.
Preciso ir deixando registrado o que faz sentido para não me perder no mar de informações.
Acho errado forçar salários iguais para resultados diferentes. Ganhar muito dinheiro não é errado. Se você entrega algo pelo qual os outros acham que vale a pena pagar, qual seria o problema?
O que eu vejo como errado, que me fazia gostar da frase citada no começo é a questão de sair aumentando salários, muitas vezes com a desculpa da inflação, sendo que você não está rendendo mais, não está produzindo mais, e muitas vezes já está com um salário que é possível viver confortavelmente. Vamos reajustando pela inflação e achando lindo nossos salários aumentando 5%, 10%, e seguindo nesse jogo onde o nível da água vai aumentando e quem não conseguir o aumento pela inflação que morra afogado.

Nos meus você não toca

Day -2
I was very surprised to hear from you. Well, it's not like we've been that distant, but I miss those old days...
It was fun trying to remember the setlist, trying to play fair and all, and admitting I don't remember everything. I always thought not remembering every detail might mean it didn't mark you, as to diminish the event's importance. Or maybe I just couldn't let go of the impression you all had of me, that I had a super memory. Dunno, it was fun though.

The second setlist came with another surprise, not because of time, but rather due to the things we speak and the distance we feel albeit being close.
I might say it sometime in the future since I don't believe you'd read it here. I still feel guilty for all the things I said while drunk that day, and the jokes I fired unto you. As much as many of them were justified, I guess some space to defend yourself is long due. 
I'm glad we had that October 17th, even though it was years and years ago. Coming to think of it, maybe the reckless joking also came from the fact I couldn't accept the fact our roads doesn't cross so much, in the way it did back on that October.

I try to play along, but it's hard.
I'd rather just rush through challenges instead of pretending I'm unaware something is going on. But I guess that's life..

Still, it was fun doing exercises. I really like it, and for some reason it goess much smoother when you people are around.
Throws me back to the gym days of years before, when we'd work out at the same gym sometimes. I felt envious of how fast you seemed to progress. Never really liked how damn weak I felt.

On to meditating, well, that's complicated. My thoughts race against the clock. And once I focus on something, be it silence or chaos, I am quite upset on coming back. I guess I made some soft of advance though. The arms did get a bit numb.

Day -1
I wonder what the fuck is this all about. Feels a bit ridiculous and beyond the limits to go through such trial.

Well, it might be fun...

But people also don't play along with anything we come up with, so why should we?

I guess, because that gives us a reason to meet them?

I don't know... I'll do it, okay...
It's a funny song, at least.

I really wish one day I can enjoy things without worrying so much, as you do, dude.

I got really worried because I didn't get there on time and I didn't find you. Although I felt like quitting, and that the rewards might not justify it all, I didn't like the idea of not acing a challenge.
This challenge was a bit more extreme due to the previous day, but it felt good knowing I can still play Pump alright. But the time chatting at the mall was the best part.
Don't worry about me being childish, I know I ain't one to fare well with kids, and your focus now is on raising yours. I believe you are doing very well at it.

Day 0
I was wondering, what if all this means we're getting something big? Like a videogame at the end. A Switch, you know?

I'd warn you against such expectatives. They might blind you from enjoying what you're truly given.

I know I shouldn't but... WHAT IF... all the challenges, the disconnected messages?

Quit it.

Alright, alright... let's just head to her house...

I wonder how can people relax with origami. I get real nervous while at it, the imperfections drive me mad. Folds upon folds, not reaching upon the distances they should, asymmetry... 
You seem so much more calm, concentrated. Mature.
Nonetheless, it was fun. Particularly seeing the results and working together on the sushis.

Ah, playing the game.
I've been listening to the soundtrack for months.
But being challenged by a game, I had partly forgotten that feeling.
All the blasts from the past that came unto me.
I couldn't control the thought of finally beating event 51 with Marth while speaking with friends back on that day. It's been way over a decade since that day, but it was hella' fun, and I didn't fully notice what had just happened for I've been playing on auto while chatting. No hit-and-run, nor any other easy measures, that was fun.
Maybe fun ain't the word for that moment, but rather, liberating.

I wasn't ready for the trivia.
I really wish I had gotten all that by memory, guess my memory ain't that good anymore...
Can't really put it in words how much I appreciated going to Japan with you. Not that other travels weren't fun, but that country always had something. Or maybe I had something. Never quite got it, the strange sensation that befalls everytime I think about those small apartments we see on shows, the streets,...
Maybe one day I'll have enough money to take everyone there. That's one of the thoughts that keep these wheels moving. It is quite stupid I guess but, better to keep moving.

I can't quite tell how many times I had to hold the tears.

Man, I really really didn't want to leave that place. It's been so long since we last got everyone together. Well, we might not have everyone here, right now. But we have almost everyone and that counts the same for me. I know we are adults now, I hate that, but I guess I accept it.
But this day, this very day. It is special, in a way I can't really seem to describe.
I guess I could cry.
But you know I can't do it in front of you, even if it means taking the focus somewhere else or making stupid jokes. I don't feel very comfortable with it. Have a hard time understanding that sometimes we cry out of sheer happiness, and I ain't allowing this moment to have a bare glimpse of sadness. If I gotta be the relentless jester, so be it.

It really felt like it was worth it.

Day 1
So. The day came. I can't recall when did I start to dread my birthday, I just do it for the last bunch of years.
Perhaps, expectatives?
I expected parties that would blow up our heads, crazy moments that would accompany us for a lifetime,... I don't even know, deep down I expected something like the stuff you see in movies I guess.
It felt a bit harder to play along, got a bit tired due to bad sleep, and I still had the feeling of being so happy the night before. I wanted it back.

Can't deny it was surprising to see the triforce, however.

Hence forth came the gift.
I was a bit sad because I knew I'd feel betrayed by my expectations upon receiving it.

Fortunately, something happened.

I had to hold the tears yet again upon checking all the parts. The sheer effort put into all of it moved something in me. What exactly is a bit beyond my knowledge.
But there was that feeling of accomplishing something. The one that lacked every single time I tried moving people somewhere else, uniting under a common objective, surprising them...
Maybe, it was all worth it?

Day 2
You know what really gets to me? The fact that no matter what we do, we are never up to your standards. Don't you think these thresholds are too far from reach? If we dedicate ourselves to our friends, you're upset due to our lack of efforts into work. If we work, you worry about losing touch with your friends.
And you're confused. Because you don't know if keeping touch is really that important or is that yet another thing people say you should feel. And I know you're tired of trying to fit in, trying to do what they say people should do.
But these last days might have proven a point amidst that mess.

I just really wish I was worthy of it.
If I could just make all I felt I should.

Day 3
I wonder if we should post it.

Are you afraid of the consequences?

Well yeah, it seems... something between pedantic and... I don't know the exact word for being a showoff in social media, boasting that perfect life others should be envious of.

If you focus on the unreal daily life that can be seen there, then yeah. But there's a lot of regulars that post good vibe stuff seldomly, as life is. Moreover, shared moments multiply when they are good. It can bring a smile to one's face. As sad moments are fractioned once shared, for there's yet another heart enduring it.

Still feels weird sharing it, whom shall we be sharing with, if the ones that might feel a thing are already aware of what happened?

You?

I already know the events.

For sure you do know. Now. But what about next year? 5 years ahead? Heck, what about a few months from now, in case you are faced with harsh difficulties that may arise? We tend to forget good things on the past when struggling against the present, you know that quite well.
Reassurance is gold.

So why not share it with myself by keeping things?

Oh, come on.
Imagine those would be some happy bits.
I know, it's fiction. But it's better to use technology to keep good things for later than the opposite.
You know that. You've known that for quite a long time.



I decided to put it unto words following some sort of order. I couldn't write the beautiful text you all deserved, ain't got the right words for that.
To wrap it up, I guess it just has to be said that I'm still here albeit all the shortcomings.
Not sure why, well, actually I know but it's weird to say I appreciate that our paths crossed. And I'll make sure to intervene whenever it feels right, as long as you let me.
There's a thought that I've had some years ago, during one of the long-lasting debates I have when I'm too quiet. It's one of those rare moments in which I find a phrase that feels powerful enough for me in portuguese.

Internity

I feel weak.
In some ways, you could say defeated. I dunno why but the state of being defeated cannot be admitted, yet I cannot rise.
I hate this adult life. Are we adults already?
It's freaking Sunday.
And I hate Sunday.
Because after Sunday comes Monday, and it was funny when Garfield hated it. Now that work makes part of the routine, it ain't funny anymore.
Why am I so weak as to not see the positive sides of this day after day life? Why can't I just quit? How much more fucking money do you need?
I feel empty. I can feel my guts in turmoil, just because. Just because the cycle is reloading. And this is stupid.
I need to help my soldiers but they aren't soldiers. They never were. It's all about people who grew nearby and now are farther. Who are broke as me. We all have different experiences and feelings thoughout this journey, yet we all are broken.
I feel my face disfiguring. I miss you, I miss you so much. I promised I'd be back when the time was right. But will it ever be? Right, righteous... In these fields of adulthood, things like me will starve to death.
I hate but I can't channel it. It won't go anywhere but inside.
I hate that everyone seems to be falling and I cannot bring them up. Heck, I cannot even bring my own head above my neck. They'll find their way eventually, they're adults.
I am stuck.
I love you, and I won't let you go. And if going ahead means going alone, I guess I am digging my grave right here.

They didn't quit, time after time, do neither am I.

Finish the sentence

What haunts thee?
I guess... images?
What sort of images are these?
Representations of people. Projections, simulations... The stuff you make inside your head after some sort of social interaction.
People inside your head?
Yes. Not the real people. I don't know real people, I only know their images.
But shouldn't you be afraid of the real people? What lies in reality can touch you. Head dwellers not.
But I don't know them, how can I be afraid of something I've never seen?
Well, you see people, you talk to people, you... are daily bombarded with social interactions or, at the very least, news about people. Media, news... Oh...
Seeing someone in the news ain't the same as really getting to know these people, right?
Sure...
And talking to people doesn't mean you know them. What do they hold dear? How would they react in certain situations? What drives them?
I see...
But I don't know them. I know what I think of them. What I see of them. To truly grasp one's essence you've gotta walk a mile on their shoes, they say. I haven't walked much in mine's, imagine others'...
But why is it so scary?
What do you mean?
Why do these images haunt you?
Because of what they meant to me. In some aspect, I have some sort of blind admiration for them. I'm coming to terms with this feeling. I guess, it's basically my perfection worshipping at hand. What others do, what others say, has a greater value than it should have. I tend to forget they are just people like me, I think they are right due to the way they speak, but they are all as lost as me. But by considering them just as lost as me, I see them as inferior, for they speak as if they were truly confident. But how can they be confident if we are at the same hole?
So it's either, high heavens or low depths...
Yes, and at the end, I'm disconnected. They seem to be having fun. I haven't been having much fun. I had fun, I have fun, but it's never as much as others seem to be having. Maybe it's because they aren't comparing, they are just going. Why can't I just go?
Why do you want to go?
Maybe once I go, I don't worry anymore. I don't overthink anymore.
But what if you do?
Then it ain't going. It's something else on them that I need to mimic...
And then that's it? We'll live as a copy?
If that equals to happy, I'd be fine with it.
No you wouldn't. Deep down you know you don't feel the same enthusiasm. You've been on their parties, on their games, and that brought boredom. I can count all the times you wished to be back at home, back at playing your games. The world you left.
We won't have this discussion again.
Sure, not this time. But you do know, you can't deny.
How do they... connect?
It's not the images. It's...
Go on, complete the sentence. You're not any better than anyone else in here. We are all barred from this finale.

Gripping

I wonder if the results would be worth the fight. It's true that most journeys are greater than their destinations, but are some efforts a sign of naivety?
I still haven't fully grasped the fact that we're adults now. Hell, I can't bear to accept I'm an adult.
Is it worth the trials, to lit candles that feel as cold as indifference, or to fight while under an illusion of frosts while the world lives on its dim heat? Am I fighting for something or for the past version of something? Is it the memory of old that reigns over me?
And is there any way of bearing this knowledge other than going head on? Do I need the scars to know the size of a fight? Or is it that I've only known one way of doing it, and never got to research the alternatives?
Does it really feel this good or is it a craving of what's long lost? And how could I face the fact of it being lost? I've counted all the times I've thought about using the vile coin in order to keep you nearby, all the things I could do to help, or at least try. It amounts to much, but it has been under control for all these years. You don't need this kind of help, but it feels like it's the biggest punch I can pack.


Have I, after all, not learnt anything?

Bleak void

He rushed inside.
At first it seemed like just another post-stroll return, but right after calmly opening the door (as always, no stress on unlocking the door), he simply bolted into the room.
It was uncanny. Barely having a glimpse on his face, one could notice he was beyond startled. What sort of ghosts roam around the block at 11 a.m.? With lots of passersby and cars showing up constantly.
Following through a corridor into another room, he could be found scavenging through the drawers.
— What the hell is going on?
These words found deaf ears. He kept on digging through the items, to no avail, then opening the next one.
— Where is it?
He muttered to himself. Angry at those pesky drawers that hid his treasure.
As his hands moved into the next knob, he found the drawer locked. Not by any locks or lack of key, but by a hand that helt it firmly. Only then had he noticed someone stood by his side.
— So, what the hell is this?
— Where is it?
He asked louder, yet in the same despair. It was as if a shadow had replaced me. His eyes didn't focus anywhere.
— Where is what?
He pulled harder, but it wouldn't budge.
— It won't open for as long as you act like that.
— I just need my chains.
— What?!
— My chains, where are my chains?!
The hands left the knob alone. But were still tense. Had he raised 'em a little, that'd probably meant a threat. But those eyes couldn't fight.
— I know where they are...
He noticed my presence.
— ...But why do you need 'em?
The eyes had focused by then. Slowly that confusion seemed to fade away, only to bring in something more daunting. His face trembled in a blend of sadness and fury.
— I... I don't know...
— Well you seemed to know just a while ago.
— They are mine, why does it matter to you?
— Well, as long as this place's peace seems tainted by your behavior, it matters a lot.
— I'm doing this for the better!
— So you know, then.
Fury seemed to be overtaking sadness.
— I need it. It's mine.
— That's fine, now you just gotta say why do you need it. You've been walking unchained for quite a long time. Why is it necessary now?
He gazed at me. Undeterred.
— So...? Why is it?
That moment felt like an awkward game of who stares angrier.
But victory was defined the moment he imploded. Instead of a slow fade, his face changed to a full-blown moroseness. A stream formed by the left eye.
— It's okay. I knew something was off...
— It's not okay...
He started. Words ceased as a solemn minute of silence.
— I was walking today... And I was feeling a bit weird... Because we couldn't gather people... No matter what event happens... People don't seem to bother...
Sentences were intertwined with brief sulking moments.
— And I think that's okay... Because everyone's got their lives... But it feels a bit like... Like...
Now both eyes formed streams.
— Nobody cares anymore... But I can't do anything about it... And that's okay...
— It is. Now, I know you wanted to gather everyone just like the old days, but, as time goes by, paths change. I'm aware you know this, and I'm glad.
— Yes...
Something still didn't fit.
— But... Why the chain?
— I... I was feeling frustrated. I've been feeling frustrated for some time...
The eyes now seemed to be facing an abyss.
— I was walking... Around the block... There was this man passing by me... And I felt...
The abyss got deeper.
— I heard... That voice... It told me to punch his face...
Engulfing light even above itself.
— And, that was okay... Because it's just a voice...
Bleak void.
— But I felt like it... The voice made me happy... Like when you think about doing something you like... It brings pleasure... Seemed reasonable.
— I see now...
— I need the chain.
— As much as that sounds sane, I must decline to help. Bearing them won't do you any good.
— It will do others good!
— I'm not letting you chained for life.
— Neither can you fix me.
— If it ain't broken, it needs no fix.
— But I don't wanna hurt people!
— Then don't.
He left the discussion, demolished. It wasn't the expected outcome, it could be seen in his eyes. He felt disheartened. Even the help that could come from this house, turned absent.


There's no need in justifying my reasons. I'm not leaving him to the chains. Though I might be proven wrong in the future, I'm still betting on my senses. He will find a way, the voices should never command one's will. Nor should one's beliefs be smeared by a period of frustration.