THE LOVE

"I haven't been careful. Why should I be? To save people from "the" obvious, to save friends from "the" inevitable or who knows to save myself from any consequence? Ridiculous to save myself from anything, much more when I believe in my reasons and don't believe in anyone else. I am not saving a thread of hair either less a broken cup, no more apologizies, and never ever to spend my time with people who think they HAVE all answers on the tip of their tongues – their small and stingy reasons. There are too many people in the world for being imprisoned by half dozen of a ridiculous reference of life – AND a such small life that will lead them fatally to failure. A whole life of small feelings, where doesn't sprout the rage, incapable of knowing or having real feelings. They say they know what LOVE means, that they are able to feel it. OK. There it goes – LOVE is the lowest and stingy of the feelings, the worst among people, the one that blinds and makes us to believe that we are all pairs of each other, that we are similar, alike, that we are necessary one to another. Cowards. This is what they fear: that everybody knows they are cowards. They hide themselves behind this weak feeling, behind a weak person, behind what they don't believe but is convenient and never questioned. Who feels love is medium, small. If one day someone comes to you saying that loves you, run away. He will try to sell you all the concepts of a life without faults and full of forgiveness. Will try to imprison you in a cage and will make you sing for your food. Will put a collar and lock you behind a fence where you will live together with your excrements. Will find himself in the right to tell you what is right and what is wrong. Will suggest the clothes you have to wear for the fucking party that he invited you, and even so, will censure you for that. Will give you (for the time being) a life full of empty moments that takes your air from your lungs. Will buy you a rope and let it close to your eyes, and a knife. Who is the weakest? Fuck you. Listen to my advice when you still have time for it: Is better to feel rage than love. That is what will keep me alive."

THE LOVE by Rubens Kulczycki


"Não tenho tido cuidado. Pra que Ter cuidado? Pra poupar as pessoas do óbvio, pra poupar os amigos do inevitável, ou quem sabe, para poupar-me de qualquer conseqüência? Ridículo me poupar de qualquer coisa, ainda mais quando acredito em meus motivos e não acredito mais em ninguém. Não vou poupar um fio de cabelo, nem mais um copo quebrado, não vou mais pedir desculpas e não vou mais andar com quem julga Ter a razão na ponta da língua – A sua pequena e mesquinha razão. Existem pessoa demais no mundo para nos aprisionarmos em meia dúzia com uma referencia ridícula de vida – E uma vida bastante pequena que os levará fatalmente ao fracasso. Um vida cheia de sentimentos pequenos, onde não brota a raiva, pois são incapazes de sentir algo que seja verdadeiro. Dizem que sentem o amor, que disso são capazes, pois lá vai – O amor é o mais vil e mesquinho dos sentimentos, o pior entre todos, aquele que cega e nos faz acreditar que somos todos pares uns dos outros, que somos parecidos, que precisamos um do outro. Quem sente o amor reza pedindo perdão e implorando pela morte sem qualquer tipo de dor. Covardes. É disso que eles tem medo, que descubram que são covardes. Por isso se escondem atrás de um sentimento raso, atrás de uma pessoa rasa, atrás daquilo que não acreditam mas que lhes é conveniente e por isso não serão questionado. Quem sente o amor é médio, pequeno. Se alguém um dia lhe disser que te ama, fuja dele. Ele vai tentar te vender os conceitos de uma vida sem falhas e cheia de perdão. Vai tentar te aprisionar em uma gaiola e te fazer cantar pela tua cota de ração. Vai te colocar uma coleira e te por atrás de uma cerca onde você terá de conviver com as tuas fezes. Vai se achar no direito de te dizer o que é certo e o que errado. Vai sugerir a roupa que você deve usar para a porra da festa que ele armou, e mesmo assim, vai te censurar por isso. Vai te dar uma vida cheia de momentos vazios que te tiram o ar dos pulmões. Vai comprar uma corda e deixar ela a vista, junto com a navalha. Quem é fraco? Foda-se. Ouça meu conselho, fuja enquanto é tempo. Prefiro sentir raiva ao amor, isso sim vai me manter vivo."

O AMOR por Rubens Kulczycki

Ophelia the Terrorist

My name is Ophelia. Only Ophelia. I don’t have any surname.

I've been here for two long years waiting my fiancé, ops, actually my husband, Hamlet, for our honeymoon. He said he was going to buy some cigarettes but he never ever came back.

He has really never come back. He left through that door, the same door you came into this room tonight. That door was opened and it still exactly like that.

(...)

None of this is to Hamlet. She is impressed with his immaturity. In fact, she shouldn’t because she knows him already and completely. There is no way for them to be even friends. Ophelia, more than ever, wants his death, but still wasting her time with flowers and swords. Now she tidies her home, washes her dishes, alone. She wants Prince of Denmark dead. She tidies her room and rents a van removal. She hangs her guitar and writes with bricks on the rocks by the motorway: "Hamlet: you will regret it. Because if you won’t take care of yourself, I will get you. Kisses. Oph!" (drinks more wine from the bottle) We are so rotten.

(...)

Hey hey darling, come over and listen to this song: (sings) "Teddy bear, Teddy bear gave me poison. Teddy bear, Teddy bear is harassing a girl. Teddy bear, Teddy bear is tickling my tits. Teddy bear, Teddy bear raped me as his bitch".

Nighty night darling!