I would like to ask to all of theses fellows brilliant minds that are reading right now this group of letters to aloud me to induct this tiny specific word from the universe such as a metaphor of pic a simple honey brand from a shelf in the grocery store of being human. Colloso
diario do projeto Colloso
domingo, 6 de novembro de 2011
IMMORTALS
I would like to ask to all of theses fellows brilliant minds that are reading right now this group of letters to aloud me to induct this tiny specific word from the universe such as a metaphor of pic a simple honey brand from a shelf in the grocery store of being human. SYMBOLS
“You are what you write; what you write is you.” Make no mistake; writing is the same as stiffen your voice to archive the ears of thousand of hungry minds in timeless dimensions of knowledge’s desires. Writing is the most important weapon, which a student has to conquer the world he chose to conquer it. It doesn’t matter if you have a graduated or under-graduated goals; is your writing skills that will prove to any one: professor, apprentice or god that your are not only capable, but indeed your are now a master. We’ve been showing to our teachers and consulters our identity and position as a creator and developer of ideas in our writing assignments.
It is in those assignments where we cannot only see it, but almost touch the novice of the others classes inside of our words. The capability of understanding a symbol is more magical and divine than anything in this symbolic dimension. Words are keys to one’s mind, yet put it all in the correct order isn’t an easy job. People often argues that writing well and conscious is too complicated with all those rules, structures, and grammar details, but nonetheless, we still can measure the most complicated thing in the world with one simple tiny word: “Life.”
terça-feira, 4 de outubro de 2011

terça-feira, 27 de setembro de 2011
I am the color and the sound of português
This weekend I finished the recording of my my video about poetry. During the last shoots, I give myself a feel seconds of reflections before I turn off my camera. What made myself a "story teller?" Why I have so many questions? Isn't life just a leader in the wind going by the occasion? or is the wind a tinny common eye, were the leader shows itself as the memo of his destiny? Actually i don't know, and indeed, I am not expecting to found out. Whatever my infinitive of a second came to an end; therefore, I must go back to the Matrix, and have some coffee with sugar to convince me that cares...yet.
