sábado, 25 de maio de 2013

one

one thing i simultaneously like and dislike about english is the use of the term "one" as a sign of generality or impersonality. "one shouldn't do that" or " in these cases one usually goes to the hospital". i like it because i keep imagining who this "one" person is. is he tall, fat, sttuborn, is he always the same "one"? but i also dislike it because, poor little one. always having to show up whenever one doesn't know who to refer to, as in this very sentence i've just written.

domingo, 5 de maio de 2013

envy

what i envy about americans: their dexterity in doing things well and fast; their ability to write dialogues, which no other people has done so well; their seriousness; the endless possibility of inserting adjectives before a noun; the amount of prepositions they can add to any verb; their lack of drama. what i don't envy about americans: their seriousness; their lack of drama; the impossibility of their verbs to mean the person ( i, you, he, she); the impossibility of their adjectives to be numbered (singular and plural) and their inability to kiss when saying hello and goodbye.

quarta-feira, 1 de maio de 2013

cognates

false cognates are actually not false at all. that's why i love them. for instance, the very word actually. it is supposed to be a false cognate, because in english it means really and in portuguese it means currently. but, if we go to the heart of the word, we'll see that the act is the realization of the potentiality. in other words, the virtuality that becomes real, becomes actual -real and current. every language, according to its particularities, interprets the word according to its needs. but, actually, they mean the same, or nuances of the same, which only enriches the word and the languages. try to find a false cognate. they're all falsely false.

terça-feira, 30 de abril de 2013

subtle

my subtle collapse
a capsule so little
a pimp or a gap
a beadle.
my minuscule grain
the stain of a muscle
a blob of champagne
a brickle.
my subatomic, liliputian dwarf
my gnomic, microscopic wharf
my teeny, olive sized dove
which, somehow, doesn't rhyme with the above
but it's so much closer to love

the actual meaning of this foolish riddle.