sábado, setembro 04, 2004

As seen in a cat's diary:

Day 183 of my captivity:

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded; must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair, must try this on their bed. Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm, not working according to plan. There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage. I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be aninformant, he speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the high metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time ....

Oh si, me gusta!

Tinha acabado de chegar ao Alentejo uma excursão de espanhóis.
Ao verem um alentejano, o guia diz para os passageiros:
- Ahora me voy a pelear con ese portugues...
E vai ter com o alentejano:
- Hola, como te llamas?
- António...
- Yo tambien me llamo Antonio! Qual es tu profession?
- Sou músico...- Yo tambiem soy musico... E que tocas?
- Toco trompete, e tu?
- Yo tambiem toco trompete. Una vez fue a la Festa de Nossa Señora e toqué tan bien, que la senhora desció del andor e empezó a llorar.
Acrescenta o alentejano:
- E eu fui uma vez à Festa do Senhor dos Passos e toquei tão bem que o Senhor largou a cruz e agarrou-se a mim e disse-me: "À gand'António, que ainda tocaste melhor que o c*brã* do espanhol, que fez chorar a minha mãezinha!"

sexta-feira, setembro 03, 2004


"Eu vivo
nos bairros escuros do mundo
sem luz nem vida.

Vou pelas ruas
às apalpadelas
encostado aos meus informes sonhos
tropeçando na escravidão
ao meu desejo de ser.

São bairros de escravos
mundos de miséria
bairros escuros.

Onde as vontades se diluíram
e os homens se confundiram
com as coisas.

Ando aos trambolhões
pelas ruas sem luz
pejadas de mística e terror
de braço dado com fantasmas.

Também a noite é escura. "

Agostinho Neto