PIETÁ  ➊➑  if it’s a portrait, is mine




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looks like a photograph


autoteatro à moz ASZ 2016 

The word
out of the mouth
into the world
unwrapping itself
from any sound:
I am the punchbag of silence

The memory is the mother of memory says Pietá but she also says I’m a lonely wolf but she also says I’ve been in this world for too long but she also says she has balls but she also says… and I cannot but hear the song, the sad nested soul-song, the one the Earth weeps and weeps and weeps, I can hear it, even with all the asphalt, it is soo sad and everybody seems to avoid it, to auto-deaf themselves… to entertain the slightest chance, how could we even reply? It is a sad sweet song indeed, I wonder why do we pretend that’s not important, that’s not there… I also wonder if I’m loosing my mind, maybe my mind’s growing finger nails attached to finger tips which touch everything but grab nothing. I wonder if I’m delusional ’cause I fucking hear it, I hear it damn it!! I hear it and makes me sad also… I had to escape the city, literally I got sick, my soul was being shuttered, consumed, tainted… and none of the human made leisure cubes could make any difference… try to explain that to your friends, see their faces, feel their ronhonhô sympathy. Anyway I’m glad I’m back to the bay, as a good fish that I am I need to nurture on the ocean and the waves and the storms’ sad pomelegy and the seagulls, the lovely crazy and free seagulls that I do not own but they’re as mine as my lungs and the clouds always buying new clothes, so conceited and hasty yet playful… I think I’m on the process of stopping being a human… not so much as a kafkian sequel but as an enfolding (involute) movement… back to the nothing, back to the void, back to the form, back to the unknowable non-entity energy stream someone left flowing inside a donut




 naked marilyn monroe ASZ 2016



conjunto de pedaços de tipo-fotos maish ou menosh a 3/4 • click 4 larger 


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…as every moment frees from itself


vp et pietá // last day of january ASZ

Hi there; how are you?

No matter what one does, no matter where one goes… in the end it’s all about people and relationships (relating), there’s no way of avoiding them and furthermore there’s little point in doing so… thus we could even row in the “opposite” direction, we do not live, we’re being lived, we’re neither concepts nor separate entities, we’re what we’re searching and {cherry on top} consciousness is the very source of the apparent universe, not different from its manifested content #1 =)

In a past life I sat under that same oak above, who told me:


A veces no puedo,
no puedo y me entrego
a la tierra,
a las raíces,
a la sal
ála sal
toda mi energía
atroz o depurada
te regalo,
ofrenda humilde pero total
no me quedo ni con la nada
con este rayito de sol
que viene
desde antes del ahora
y que en verdad
es sólo un préstamo,
una luz caliente
un suspiro del universo
que por un micrón
de enésima potencia de quarzo
combuste el origen mismo
del amago
que es mi existencia



#1 Pointers from Nisargadatta Maharaj – (chpt 53) The Last Days: Last Teaching



This song’s specially for anyone my words or actions may have hurt
BTW if you liked the song check Allen’s music, he’s good… real =)


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a little story ’bout a water reservoir


Once upon a time there were an old couple, he was called Afo and she answered to Chiu. These two guys were very very {trembling lips of consternation} afrrraid of water shortage, and they should ‘cause the world where they lived was merciless and under constant change – “constant change”, hum funny paradox.
So they decided to sacrifice some space in their tiny kitchen and adopt a water reservoir for the rainy days to come.

Afo and Chiu died and many other different people went on benefiting the beautiful house. But the world had gotten more stable, at least for the growing middle earth creatures and so the water reservoir was first unused and then forgotten.Till one day and that day always arrives in the fairytales, a young chevalier of the land of the barbecues named Pepito looked at it with the eyes of looking at things and said: Chapu chapu marra chapu que chale no ni hay luminolus que po quito nose ve nada which could be translated as oh! I see you there water reservoir and I salute you in your sad corner, pity that your time has gone by and now you are just waisting space and stealing light of this, otherwise, very practical compartment; we shall find you more appropriate place… Well the truth is that the idea of removing the water reservoir was from Arribas, Pepito’s good and loyal (and who actually made all the good thinking) squire.

K rela

So a couple moons later and with many clumsy actions and even more complicated manoeuvres and magic tools Pepito and his helper Purplis (after 18 years Arribas had taken a well deserved holidays ) took it down without harm or stress; and after an eternity of manual sawing and piercing the remainig holding structure was also modded into… some kind of practical thingy. The water reservoir heaved a languorous sigh who knows if relieved, excited for new adventures or simply out of pure tiresomeness.

Meanwhile the kitchen window was open wide for the first time in decades and inspired by the pervading light and synthesizing milenia of human kind’s knowledge Pepito created and uber elaborate device that allowed the before mentioned to be stabilized in 20º increments {ejem, loosely aproximative}… next step: conspurcation

K wind p

And ’cause you’re so curious to what happened to the poor homeless water reservoir? Our good and trusty Pepito went further in his benevolent actions towards the well being of all the creatures (breathing or constipated) of the cosmos and found the nicest spot, with sun and shadow and birds and flowers and asian wasps and pinecones and silly butterflies and even seaguls going to blues’ mass on sundays; a new home, yeahhhHH!! Furthermore and coincidentally with our hero practical nature, the water deposit regained a new job as container of the remains of what some snob people call relationships.




And so everybody was happy forever and ever and a day, maishh ou menoshh, maishh ou menosshh… as thankfully nothing lasts forever, je je je. My story is done; but now this story is also yours =)




  Next in line How I Didn’t Kill Myself Shaving with a Century Old Straight Razor :D

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Ex-Madrastra (from Karuma diaries) – – – What are you talking about man?!!! – – – 490 words, NHIF!


photo by daju Karma


Nina Simone - Wild Is The Wind

Hey out there inside the global virtual net!!!

Finally the doctors found what my “problem” was, it’s called woodlouse syndrome. It is a chronic and degenerative disease that starts with ever so slightly disquiet whenever darkness sets and ends up with me becoming a woodlouse wandering about on the walls with a thousand feet and ultra compulsion to find mystic food. So now that I know, feel much better… :P


click any image 4 bigger size 

Korsori banta TST?
Back in the city with some home made ten took and a better Karma, jiji
Saw a pregnant cat lady with chewed up ear. We pet her for a bit.
Just outside campus getting high on the rush hour’s activity.
In my bag a whale with a round stone, a shell and radioactive-green fishing line in her belly; my gift for Chiara‘s 38th birthday.
We are getting old and wise and no doubt childish at the same time.

It is time that ceases and not the ending of meaning.
J. Krishnamurti

Snorkelling man, goofy but friendly rises his hand yellow =)
The fool moon, glowing between two traffic lights
it’s unavoidably comfortable to watch.

Leaves… dry and wilingly fly around in all directions, what a strange scenario!
Seven two six to Pontinha, a mess of white balance decisions, fearlessly, glitched yet detached, beautifully random plastic bags dancing amongst the cars.
I am no cool, also I’ve stopped worrying ’bout what gets me and strive for its rhythm. Bullshit choreography, darkness postponed one more day… who’s the soundtrack?


composite image made out of 206 single captures (400% increase)

God what a great yesterday flowing get-together of familiar faces. Known friends, new house from before the big earthquake, versed habits, mixed alimony, permeable ideas, heterogenic energies, empathic orchestration on the dream of being alive emancipating itself from any possible programming, ja ja ja come ‘n’ get me, renewed bonds… yes… acceptance, active, tender and sincere, smiles, laughs, loads of laughs, blinking shiny eyes that just for a split second unravel its roots from the soul’s bight. Completely drunk on friendship, on celebration, on the spunk of timely and buoyant conversations…

Beauty, beauty borned on the faces of my good old friends

Dusk is all, and here we are in a packed two zero seven back to somewhere yet to discover… let’s call it Ex-Madrastra


Bon Voyage Lagoa, Stay cooli-iaooli Ki, Piteripoweris quebranozes, Thomas assim, Karma de corazao poço, Javi chulo gachas-migas, Dani fragilizantemente, du Snup pelos telhados, a Joana sem fim e o Maxû e seus poopoozas




And while we wait the release of The Little Prince animated film, Paramount… they just had to cast, mr. Uuuhhh I’m sooo interesting Jaimito Franco and ever dull McAdams barbie, ghrrrr – next year on my birthday – I’d like to invite you to watch and maybe ponder on this (merci a Kurth) and specially on Otis‘ story +)



Did you know that only 3 people in Korea live? – woodlouse Mike

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… of irked shadows




The heart’s pounding like mad
cannot tell the outside from the inside
in its crude and sloppy crib
immured by flesh and bone

I wonder if that’s ‘cause
I’m so high at this depth
of the machine, turn it off, please
turn off the machine of being human,
let the shadows feeding light to the bay
inhale the night
into their cute little dagger-souls
and randomly slight the hollow intent
of bringing life to more words;
let them all naked and free
as just-noises,
as nightmares made out of dead wishes,
covetous gazes and expired memberships;
let them prowl
and find us
let them
gobble up
inside out
through our guts,
from the bone marrow
to the glittering mosts of hair,
it would be neat the extra space
and to lose for good the grip of
this zonked gaussian retina.
~~ Tired of being lonely
but not of loneliness,
sick of the darkness
but ever more of
night dressed.~




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