thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
Hoje nao vai ter rima,Talvez uma ou outra perdida durante o texto.O dia esta muito estranho, pelo menos pra mim,Nao sei se acontece isso com mais alguem,Mas sabe aquele dia que tudo estressa voce?Que nada esta bom o suficiente,Que parece que ninguem realmente se importa com voce?Parece que tua vida e tao vazia, tao "sem sentido"Sem nenhum proposito,Como se voce tivesse simplesmente vivendo por viver,Sem nenhum objetivo ou perspectiva?Ai eu fico aqui, pensando, refletindo sobre as coisas,Pensando qual meu objetivo aqui,Sei que muitos tem um objetivo, lutam por alguma coisa, enfim.Eu tambem tenho, mas parece que hoje nenhum deles importa.Parece que se eu sumisse ou nao existisse mais, ninguem ia sentir falta,Que nao ia mudar nada na vida das pessoas,Ai eu fico pensando, sera que fiz algo na vida de alguem?Algo bom de preferencia, que sei la, mudou a vida de alguem pra melhor,Sera que eu fiz, ou faco, a diferenca na vida de alguem?Quantas pessoas sentiriam minha falta??Ja estou fugindo do assunto, enfim.As vezes penso que falta achar a tal da pessoa certa,Ou alguem que eu ache que e a pessoa certa.Nao qualquer pessoa... aquela que te completa, que se preocupa com voce,Aquela que nenhuma outra iria conseguir substituir e nem iria conseguir ser melhor que ela.Aquela que voce se sente bem so de estar perto,Que voce fica feliz so de pensa que vai ver ela amanha,Ou simplesmente de lembrar que ela sente o mesmo por voce.Hoje queria so alguem aqui, pra pode abracar,Alguem pra eu encosta a cabeca no ombro dela e pode chora a vontade, conversa,Sem pensa no que as outras pessoas iriam pensa,Esquecer o resto do mundo.Poderia ir la, com minha mae, sei la, mas so ia deixar ela preocupadaPensando que aconteceu alguma coisa,Entao fico aqui, sozinho,E tentando parecer "normal" no msn.Tentando nao deixar ninguem perceber o que esta se passando.O pior que parece nao ter ninguem com quem conversar sobre essas coisas,Alguem pra simplesmente desabafar, ou sei la,Na verdade tem, mas nao quero enche o saco delas com isso,Entao estou escrevendo aqui, onde so vai ler, quem quiser ler.Obs: Personagem ficticio, ou nao.Sei que logo vou ler esse texto de novo, e achar que fico uma merda e talvez apague ele dai.Mas nao faz mal (:- Andreh Fortes - Devido as circunstancias em que a gente se conheceu,Voce nao imaginava que a gente ia acaba assim... Muito menos eu,No comeco foi estranho, mas hoje agradeco,Passar tarde e noites ao seu lado, isso nao tem preco,E mesmo se tivesse, eu pagava quanto fosse,So pra te ter comigo, beijar sua boca tao doce...Doce, doce como mel, Voce sabe como fazer eu me sentir no ceu,Sabe me provoca, sabe me deixar louco,Passar todo o tempo ao seu lado, ainda seria pouco.Te conheco a pouco tempo, mas te amo de verdade, Passo um dia longe de voce e quase morro de saudade,Sem falsidade, vou ser sincero,Voce vai embora, mas juro que fico aqui e te espero,O tempo que for, Voce nao sabe o quanto eu procurei por esse amor,Linda como uma flor, preciso do seu calor,Mas me promete que volta um
dia, por favor?Nao preciso te perder, Pra saber que e voce, Que eu quero do meu lado,Me entrego desse jeito, Sem saber se estou certo ou errado,Nao posso mais ficar caladoEu preciso te dizer,Que estou eu apaixonado!- Andreh Fortes -
Dias de lamentacoes: Aurim: Uri Diolares!Luis Henrique que me mostrou: Ulha aqui, Pai! Tamanho da "preda"que o ladrao usa pra assaltar o carro. Desse jeitovai virar e o bicho....Pois e!Exagero e pouco.O fazedor do anuncio devia dar uma voltinhas pelacidade depois das 23 horas pra ter alguma referenciamais... hum... verdadeira.A galera aqui apela, mais nao e tanto nao. De volta a programacao normal: Era do gelo Tiras: Raio X da porcaria!Voce ja deve ter visto em outro lugar,Ok! Mas com a Livinha e mais irado! A moda e nojenta:Boiou??? --------------------------------Aprecia AQUI GALERA,O BLOG MUDOU DE PROVEDOR!AGORA ESTOU PELO SITE DO JORNAL O POVO,NO QUAL TRABALHO HA 13 ANOS!CLIQUEM AQUI,DIVULGUEM E DIVIRTAM-SE! Sonha, Alice! Kafkas Last TrialBy ELIF BATUMANThe New York Times, September 22, 2010During his lifetime, Franz Kafka burned an estimated 90 percent of his work. After his death at age 41, in 1924, a letter was discovered in his desk in Prague, addressed to his friend Max Brod. Dearest Max, it began. My last request: Everything I leave behind me . . . in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others), sketches and so on, to be burned unread. Less than two months later, Brod, disregarding Kafkas request, signed an agreement to prepare a posthumous edition of Kafkas unpublished novels. The Trial came out in 1925, followed by The Castle (1926) and Amerika (1927). In 1939, carrying a suitcase stuffed with Kafkas papers, Brod set out for Palestine on the last train to leave Prague, five minutes before the Nazis closed the Czech border. Thanks largely to Brods efforts, Kafkas slim, enigmatic corpus was gradually recognized as one of the great monuments of 20th-century literature.The contents of Brods suitcase, meanwhile, became subject to more than 50 years of legal wrangling. While about two-thirds of the Kafka estate eventually found its way to Oxfords Bodleian Library, the remainder believed to comprise drawings, travel diaries, letters and drafts stayed in Brods possession until his death in Israel in 1968, when it passed to his secretary and presumed lover, Esther Hoffe. After Hoffes death in late 2007, at age 101, the National Library of Israel challenged the legality of her will, which bequeaths the materials to her two septuagenarian daughters, Eva Hoffe and Ruth Wiesler. The library is claiming a right to the papers under the terms of Brods will. The case has dragged on for more than two years. If the court finds in the sisters favor, they will be free to follow Evas stated plan to sell some or all of the papers to the German Literature Archive in Marbach. They will also be free to keep whatever they dont sell in their multiple Swiss and Israeli bank vaults and in the Tel Aviv apartment that Eva shares with an untold number of cats.The situation has repeatedly been called Kafkaesque, reflecting, perhaps, the strangeness of the idea that Kafka can be anyones private property. Isnt that what Brod demonstrated, when he disregarded Kafkas last testament: that Kafkas works werent even Kafkas private property but, rather, belonged to humanity?In May,
I attended a session at the Tel Aviv district courthouse, dealing with the fate of the papers. Heading to the courtroom, I found myself in a small and dilapidated elevator with flickering fluorescent lights and a stated maximum occupancy of four people. I was reminded of The Trial, the novel that opens with the unexplained arrest of Josef K. by a mysterious court that turns out to have its offices in attics all over Prague, running its course somehow separately from the normal criminal-justice system. Half-expecting the elevator to deposit me in the upper stories of a low-income residential building, I emerged instead into a standard municipal-looking hallway with faux-marble floors. Black-robed lawyers paced around, carrying laptops or giant file folders tucked under their arms; many dragged still more files behind them in black wheeled suitcases.Some minutes later, a barely perceptible charge in the air signaled the arrival of the sisters. Ruth, with her white sneakers, pearl earrings and short, bleached hair, looked like somebodys grandmother (which she is). Eva, a former El Al employee who was by all accounts a great beauty in her youth, was dressed entirely in black, with a black plastic clip holding back her long auburn hair. Ruth wore a white shoulder bag, while Eva carried a plastic Iams bag with a paw-print logo.Of five rows of wooden benches in the courtroom, the first three were occupied by more than a dozen lawyers: two lawyers for the National Library; a representative of the Israeli government office that is responsible for estate hearings; and five court-appointed executors: three representing Esther Hoffes will (which the National Library considers irrelevant to the case) and two representing Brods estate (which the sisters attorneys consider essentially irrelevant to the case). The German Literature Archive in Marbach, which has supposedly offered an undisclosed sum for the papers (said to be worth millions), was also represented by Israeli counsel. Ruths lawyer and Evas three lawyers rounded out the crowd. Its impressive that the sisters had between them four lawyers, although, to put things in perspective, Josef K. at one point meets a defendant who has six. When he informs K. that he is negotiating with a seventh, K. asks why anyone should need so many lawyers. The defendant grimly replies, I need them all.The events leading up to the hearing that day were set into motion many decades earlier. In Prague in the 1930s, Brod, a passionate Zionist, began mentioning plans to deposit the Kafka papers in the library of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, where his and Kafkas mutual friend Hugo Bergmann was then librarian and rector. Brod renewed these plans after his emigration to Palestine in 1939, but somehow nothing ever came of them, and the papers passed to Esther Hoffe. In 1988, Hoffe made headlines by auctioning the manuscript of The Trial for nearly $2 million; it ended up at the German Literature Archive. Philip Roth characterized this outcome as yet another lurid Kafkaesque irony that was being perpetrated on 20th-century Western culture, observing not only that Kafka was not German
but also that his three sisters perished in Nazi death camps.In later years, Hoffe engaged in negotiations to place the Kafka papers as well as the rest of the Brod estate, which includes Brods voluminous diaries and correspondence with countless German-Jewish intellectual luminaries at the archive in Marbach. Nevertheless, at the time of her death, no transaction had been completed. The bulk of the collection remained divided among an apartment on Spinoza Street in central Tel Aviv and 10 safe-deposit boxes in Tel Aviv and Zurich. It is unclear how much of Brods estate is still housed in the Spinoza Street apartment, which is currently inhabited by Eva Hoffe and between 40 and 100 cats. Evas neighbors, as well as members of the international scholarly community, have expressed concern regarding the effects of these cats on their surroundings. More than once, municipal authorities have removed some of the animals from the premises, but the missing cats always seem to be replaced.In 2008, when the sisters tried to probate their mothers will, they were opposed by the National Library. The library contends that Brod left the Kafka papers to Esther Hoffe as an executor rather than as a beneficiary, meaning that, after Hoffes death, the papers reverted to the Brod estate. Brods will, dated 1961, specifies that his literary estate be placed with the library of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, the Municipal Library in Tel Aviv or another public archive in Israel or abroad. The Municipal Library in Tel Aviv has renounced any claim to the estate, making the Hebrew University Library today, the National Library of Israel the only claimant specifically named by Brod.The National Librarys argument is complicated by Brods so-called gift letter of 1952. The most crucial and enigmatic document in the case, it appears to give all of the Kafka papers outright, during Brods lifetime, to Esther Hoffe. The sisters presented the court with a two-page photocopy of this letter. The National Library, however, produced a photocopy of a four-page version of the letter, of which the two missing middle pages appear to clarify the limitations of Brods gift. When the court ordered a forensic examination, the sisters were unable to produce the original letter.Last year, the court decided to grant the National Librarys request that the papers in the sisters possession be inventoried: some evidence suggests that the vaults contain further documentation clarifying Brods intentions for the papers. The sisters appealed the decision, maintaining that the state has no right to search private property for documents whose existence cant be proven beforehand. The hearing I attended was to determine the outcome of their appeal.Eva and Ruth, who fled Nazi-occupied Prague as children, are elusive figures who keep out of the public eye. The fact that they are represented by separate counsel reflects Evas greater investment in the case. While Ruth married and left home, Eva lived with their mother, and with the papers, for 40 years. Her attorney Oded Hacohen characterizes Evas relationship to the manuscripts as almost biological. For her, he told me, intruding on those
safe-deposits is like a rape. (When asked whether Eva had used the word rape herself, Hacohen looked a bit tired. Many times, he said.)As long as Esther Hoffes will is debated, Eva and Ruth are unable to touch any part of their inheritance, which includes more than $1 million in cash. According to Hacohen, the money is a Holocaust compensation from the German government. The National Library argues that the sum could just as easily represent the proceeds from the sale of The Trial, which the library considers to have been a violation of Brods will. Eva, who claims to live in direst poverty, has unsuccessfully petitioned for a partial probate, which would have released the money before a decision was reached about the papers.The hearing I attended brought no good news for the sisters. Their appeal was overruled that day by the district court, and again the next month by the Supreme Court. In late July, one safe-deposit box in Tel Aviv and all four Zurich vaults were inventoried. Witnesses in Tel Aviv reported seeing Eva run into the bank after the lawyers shouting: Its mine! Its mine! Eva also somehow turned up at the bank in Zurich but wasnt allowed into the vault.Five of the safe-deposit boxes in Tel Aviv initially resisted inspection. Some of the keys obtained after strenuous negotiations with Eva turned out not to match the locks. By now, most of the boxes have been opened. According to the Israeli daily Haaretz, the banks have already yielded a huge amount of original Kafka material, including notebooks and the manuscript of a previously published short story. The specific contents, including any documents that might illuminate the question of ownership, will be made public once everything has been cataloged a process estimated to last another month. In the meantime, the world continues to wait.Kafka's life passed almost entirely within the space of a few city blocks in Prague, where he was born in 1883, attended school and university and, as an adult, lived with his parents and worked in an insurance agency. Kafka and Brod met in 1902, at Charles University, where both were studying law. Brod was 18 one year younger than Kafka but already a literary sensation. According to Brods biography of Kafka, the two met at a lecture Brod gave on Schopenhauer, during which Kafka objected to Brods characterization of Nietzsche as a fraud. Walking home together afterward, they discussed their favorite writers. Brod praised a passage from the story Purple Death in which Gustav Meyrink compared butterflies to great opened-out books of magic. Kafka, who took no stock in magic butterflies, countered with a phrase from Hugo von Hoffmansthal: the smell of damp flags in a hall. Having uttered these words, he fell into a profound silence that left a great impression on Brod.For years, Brod had no idea that Kafka also did a bit of writing in his free time. Nonetheless, he began right away to commit Kafkas utterances to his diary, starting with Talk comes straight out of his mouth like a walking
stick (an observation about an over-assertive classmate). In 1905, Kafka showed Brod his story Description of a Struggle. Brod directly adopted a lifelong mission to bring Kafkas works before the public. (An uncannily perspicacious talent-spotter, Brod also brought early recognition to Jaroslav Hasek and Leos Janacek.) In a Berlin weekly in 1907, Brod named a handful of contemporary authors maintaining the exalted standards of German literature: Franz Blei, Heinrich Mann, Frank Wedekind, Meyrink and Kafka. The first four were big names of the time; Kafka had yet to publish a single word. After much prodding by Brod, Kafka began publishing literary sketches in 1908, which were collected in a book in 1913.In most respects, Brod and Kafka could not have been more different. An extrovert, Zionist, womanizer, novelist, poet, critic, composer and constitutional optimist, Brod had a tremendous capacity for survival. In his biography of Kafka, Ernst Pawel recounts how Brod, having been given a diagnosis at age 4 of a life-threatening spinal curvature, was sent to a miracle healer in the Black Forest, a shoemaker by trade, who built him a monstrous harness into which he was strapped day and night. Brod spent an entire year in the care of this shoemaker, emerging with a permanent hunchbacklike deformity, which did not impede him in a lifelong series of overlapping relationships with attractive blondes.Kafka, tall, dark and broodingly handsome, had fewer and more anguished relations with women. From an early age, he was deeply concerned with his health, clothes and personal hygiene. (The afternoons I spent on my hair, a 1912 diary entry reads.) He practiced vegetarianism, Fletcherizing (a system of chewing each bite for several minutes), Mullerizing (an exercise regimen) and various natural healing programs. He worried about dandruff and constipation to an extent that occasionally exasperated even Brod (for instance, in Lugano, when he refused to take any laxative . . . but ruined the days for me with his moanings). He wasnt a good decision maker, and he didnt have good luck. After years of complaining about his job at the insurance office, he finally worked up the nerve to mail his parents a letter saying that he was going to move to Berlin and write for a living less than a week before the outbreak of World War I, which obliged him to stay in Prague. In 1917, he was given a diagnosis of tuberculosis. In 1921, he told Brod that his last testament would consist of a request to you to burn everything. Brod promptly replied that he would do no such thing: his main justification, in later years, for overriding Kafkas wishes.In 1923, Kafka met Dora Diamant, a 25-year-old runaway from a conservative Hasidic family in Galicia. She was his last and happiest love. The six-foot-tall Kafka at that point weighed 118 pounds. The couple lived for some months in a rental room in Berlin but moved in 1924 to a sanitarium in the Austrian town of Kierling, where Kafka, unable to eat, drink or speak, edited the proofs of his story The Hunger Artist and
eventually died in Doras arms, having published, in his lifetime, fewer than 450 pages.Kafka studies now proliferate at a rate inversely proportional to that of Kafkas own production: according to a recent estimate, a new book on his work has been published every 10 days for the past 14 years. Brod, in his 84 years on this planet, published 83 books, most of them now out of print.In his role in Kafkas estate, Brod presents the paradox of a radically un-Kafkaesque protagonist in a Kafkaesque plot. This was a recurring theme in their friendship. After graduating from law school, Brod, already a published author, allowed himself to be convinced by Kafkas thesis that breadwinning and the art of writing must be kept absolutely apart and took a job in the post office. Brod later bitterly regretted the hundreds of joyless hours squandered in offices by himself and the author of The Trial.Four years after Kafkas death, Brod published a novel, The Enchanted Kingdom of Love, featuring a moribund, Kafka-like character called Richard Garta: a saint of our day whose brother turns up on a kibbutz in Eastern Galilee and unmasks Richard, posthumously, as a fervent Zionist. In 1937, Brod wrote his biography of Kafka, which, alongside genuinely brilliant insights into Kafkas life and work, also quotes wholesale from the descriptions of Richard Garta in The Enchanted Kingdom, advancing the thesis that Kafka was, if not a perfect saint, then still on the road to becoming one, and that his most seemingly ambiguous literary works are essentially religious treatments of the transcendental homelessness of European Jewry.Brods biography of Kafka was not well received. According to Walter Benjamin, it testifies to a lack of any deep understanding of Kafkas life, one great riddle of which is, indeed, Kafkas choice of such a philistine for a best friend. I will never get to the bottom of the Brod mystery, Milan Kundera writes, marveling that Brod was astute enough to preserve Kafkas novels for posterity, yet capable of doing so in such sentimental, vulgar and politically tendentious books. The received image of Brod in Kafka studies is a well-meaning hack who displayed extraordinary prescience, energy and selflessness in the promotion of his more talented friend, about whom, however, he understood nothing and whose dying wishes he was thus able to ignore.The truth is more complicated. Although the loss, within a few years, of both Kafka and Europe could easily have driven Brod to despair, he instead resolved to transform it into the foundation for a new future, adopting a lifelong determination to fuse his two favorite causes Kafka and Zionism into a single, future-bearing entity. Kafkas life and work became a uniform and inherently meaningful body, in which every last detail had the same supreme importance: in the 22 years of our unclouded friendship, Brod recalled, I never once threw away the smallest scrap of paper that came from him, no, not even a postcard. Whatever Brod thought that Kafka was going to do for mankind, it was definitely something huge. If humanity would only better