thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
Como estamos na semana do CASAR 2012, resolvi postar algumas inspiracoes de deco para as noivinhas.... e como minha sobrinha vai CASAR, este e em sua homenagem.... ;) Bjo Nati e Lu amamos vcs!!!Esta festa e linda... do jeito que eu gosto... CLEAN... acho que vou casar de novo!! rsrsrsPhotography Pobke PhotographyEvent Stylist White Room EventsFlowers Lotus FlowersCakes - Sugar and Spice CakesCookies Spoon and ForkPostado por Brigadeiro da Preta Para mim, nao e uma data qualquer, nem so o dia dos namorados.... CASEI NO DIA 12/06... entao e mais do que especial.... E ai meninas, o que voces irao fazer nesta data??? Aqui em casa sera bastante doce... espero que na casa de voces tambem!!! Algumas fotos para inspirar o dia mais romantico do ANOOOO!!!Fotos: InternetPostando por Brigadeiro da Preta Estava observandoo quao bela e minha janela'agora um poema'. Farei rimasespecialmente para ela.Minha janela rima com amor.O casal se agarrando, uau!Tao jovens, sem nenhum pudor.Mas nao me parece ser consensual.Minha janela rima com assaltoOlha ali, menina, nao ve o pivete?observo, a salvo, aqui do altoele puxando o canivete.Ela tambem rima com galera:Todos ali, unidos, debatendo.'so nao machuca ela!'disse ele no chao. Eles, batendo.Rima com terceira idadeOlha os velhinhos, que bonitinhosFalando algo sobre impunidadelevaram suas carteiras, os rapazinhosQueria achar uma rima boapara essa janelamas se repete na mente a frase:"Para, larga ela!"Na verdade, nada rima com essa merda de janela"Imponencia" e "incapacidade" nao terminam em 'ela' Nao sou muito de escrever em portugues, mas vamos la.Nao isso nao e um poema. Eu nao gosto de poesias.Entendo elas, mas nao fazem o meu tipo.(Sorry about the post in portuguese, but Im too lazy to make a portuguese blog right now, will do later.)Era uma vez um brasileiro que decidiu tentar algo diferente. Ele ia tentar ser honesto de verdade, e bom de verdade. Ele ia tentar mudar o seu pais dando o exemplo. Ao nascer ele: brincou em dobro, se divertiu em dobro, emprestou dobrado e teve seu brinquedo roubado. Leu em dobro, estudou em dobro, ajudou os colegas em dobrado, foi ultrapassado por quem havia colado. Na adolescencia ele se apaixonou em dobro. Amou em dobro. Dedicou-se dobrado... e foi chifrado. E entao ele cresceu, foi para a faculdade! Empenhou-se em dobro. Fez sua parte no grupo em dobro, fez iniciacao, inventou algo novo, se matou dobrado... e teve todo o seu credito roubado. Desistiu da vida academica, foi pro mercado. Trabalhou em dobro, levantou a empresa em dobro, fez o trabalho de seus colegas preguicosos dobrado... quem foi promovido foi o filho do chefe safado. Ao longo de toda a sua vida nenhuma fila ele furou, nenhum troco errado ele roubou, nenhuma paixonite ele chifrou. Disse isso pro assaltante! Mas mesmo assim ele atirou. Na UTI, antes de falecer, o medico o perguntou: - Valeu a pena ser tao esforcado? - Ser tao empenhado? - Chegar ao fim da vida sem nenhum trocado, para levar um tiro de um ex-detento? - Se ao menos uma pessoa seguir meu exemplo, faria de novo de muito bom grado. I don't know why I'm
writing this letter, considering you cannot read,I'd just like to apologize.I'm sorry for waking you up selfishly in the middle of the night when I was young and home alone and too scared to sleep by myself after watching horror flicks. You would be very proud of me if you could see me now, watching such movies home-alone, with nobody to hug me to sleep.I'm sorry for forgetting to feed you on that one weekend, although you'd never stopped feeding me love.I apologize for being a coward and pretending it was you who had eaten all the meat, you really had a rough beating that night, huh?I'm sorry about throwing your favorite ball so hard it fell on the neighbor's house. I just couldn't tell him it was me who broke his window, I hope you can understand that.Remember that time I let you loose on purpose just so you could run down the street and scare the heck out of those kids? That was real fun, but Im sorry you got spanked for that.I'm sorry it took me so long to notice you were down, and not eating much, even though you were always the first to know I was sad, and always allowed me to sleep on your belly just so I'd feel better.I'm sorry I carried you left and right for second, third and fourth opinions, when all you wanted was to lay on your favorite carpet and sleep, I just had to be sure.I'm sorry for forcing so many horrible pills on you, hiding them inside delicious pieces of meat so as to trick you.I'm sorry for keeping you awake all night when you needed some rest after an entire day of surgery, I just had to see you open your eyes.I'm sorry about throwing a tantrum the next day, even though you tried to look brave for me as you entered the vet's car one last time.I'm sorry for not having the guts to say goodbye.I just couldn't. And I still can't.I'm sorry.
Aahh... feels so good to finally lie down in bed!You talk to yourself often?Wha...? Whos there?I talk to myself too you know. Its a good thing to do, helps me cope with the loneliness of it all.Carlos? Is that you?No, Im not your boyfriend.Then who are you?!You wouldnt believe me if I said it.Try me.Ive heard that one before...No, really!...Oh my God! Are you a spirit?Perhaps. What is a spirit to you?I dont know! A-a soul, I guess?Do you have a soul?What? Of course I do! I mean, I guess I do...Then, are you a spirit?Ok. I get your point.You seem much calmer now.Yeah, its strange, but I think I trust you.Im sorry to hear that.Wait... Are you like, God or something?God or something? Wow, youre very respectful.Oh! Im sorry, um... my Lord?I didnt say I was God.Sorry.Dont worry, it happens quite a bit. So, if youre not God, then what are you?If I tell you, will you promise me not to be afraid?OH MY GOD! Youre... youre the devil?!I liked the god theory better...Oh, sorry.Will you promise?Umm... yes, I promise.Im here to take your soul.Oh no! Youre the Reaper?Well, Id rather not be called by that name, too dark. It reminds me of my rocker years.Wow, so you really are the Reaper...I bet you wish I was Carlos.Well, yeah......Sorry.Dont be.Wow... there are so many things I wanted to do...Im sorry. I really detest my job.Say, Mr. Reaper...Yes, Isadora?Will it...Please, dont cry.Its pretty damn hard not to!I understand.Well, will it?Will it what, child?Hurt?Will what hurt?Dying...It didnt, did it?What?Youre already dead.Oh...Im sorry. Voce nunca sabe a forca que tem, ate que a sua unica alternativa e ser forte - Johnny Depp Como eu paguei o taxi?Como eu passei pela porta?As perguntas vem e vao, voce nao consegue terminar de formula-las na sua mente. Impossivel tentar responder. Mas nada disso importa. O que importa e a enfermeira gritando enquanto voce segue todas as instrucoes. Suas maos se movem com a destreza de um profissional. Empurra maca, vira maca, pega o papel que caiu, insere eletrodos. Nome? CPF? Nada disso importa. Cade o medico? Voce ajuda a colocar o tubo de oxigenio. Primeiro tem que fazer a ficha. Mas como largar alguem nesse estado? Nao faz sentido, mas voce se convence em milesimos de que faz total sentido, como voce nao pensou nisso antes? Nome. Nao sei o CPF. Sera que ela ja parou de se debater? Esta respirando? Nao esta respirando? Mas nada disso importa, so a ficha importa. Concentracao total, toda a sua mente se concentra em informacoes importantissimas. Nome. Naturalidade. Abre a carteira dela. Tira todos os papeis. Encontra CPF. Diz todos os digitos sem errar, com diccao perfeita. E de suma importancia que entendam tudo de primeira. Nome da mae. Isso importa? ELA ESTA RESPIRANDO? Encontra nome da mae. Completa ficha. Precisa de mais alguma coisa? Nao precisa de mais nada, volta para o lado dela. Injecao esta sendo dada. 'Esta vendo isso aqui? Os eletrodos informam a taxa de oxigenio no sangue dela. Fica de olho para mim?' Voce fica
de olho.100%.100%.99%.100%.Voce nao entende nada da percentagem. Sinais sobem e descem. Nada daquilo faz sentido. Voce procura um padrao. Tudo na vida tem um padrao. Se os sinais mudam em uma frequencia parecida, isso deve ser positivo. Isso tem que ser positivo. Ela ainda esta se debatendo. Voce sente o desespero vindo, e e nesse momento que ela olha nos seus olhos. Nada disso que voce esta sentindo importa. Ela esta morrendo, voce nao. Seria voce tao incompetente a ponto de nao conseguir transmitir calma para a pessoa? Todo o seu corpo quer tremer. Seu corpo nao treme, voce sorri.- Don't worry, you will be ok.99%.100%.A medica faz perguntas, a paciente nao sabe portugues, voce traduz. Voce, que costuma as vezes embolar o que fala quando esta nervoso, nao embola nada. Voce nao se permite embolar nada. Mas voce nao deveria estar pensando nisso. So importa traduzir.A medica te da uma serie de instrucoes.Voce nunca conseguiu gravar 5 itens das compras de supermercado. Mas nada disso importa.Voce sabe todas as instrucoes de cor, ela nem precisa repetir.A medica vai aplicar adrenalina, algo nao esta indo 100%. Ela diz que vai doer, manda traduzir.Voce traduz.A paciente te olha nos olhos novamente.Por favor, pare de me olhar nos olhos, eu nao sou tao forte assim.Se ela te olhar nos olhos com medo por mais um segundo, voce vai desabar.- It's OK, keep looking at me, don't look at the needle, look into my eyes, everything will be fine. A injecao comeca, voce encara aqueles olhos, nao desvia o olhar. A paciente grita de dor, voce nao desvia o olhar. Ela esta chorando, desesperada, voce nao treme, voce nao demonstra nada alem de calma. A reacao vai piorando, piorando, a voz da medica parece preocupada. Ela diz algo, voce ignora. Voce nao pode prestar atencao, voce tem que manter os olhos nos olhos da paciente.Uma eternidade se passa. A paciente volta a respirar um pouco melhor.100%.98%.100%. Voce nem viu a medica sair, mas a enfermeira te diz que voce ja pode sentar.Sua primeira sensacao e irritacao. Voce nao quer sentar, voce nao quer que ninguem desperdice nenhum segundo pensando em voce. Enquanto ela via que voce estava de pe, ela podia estar olhando os resultados daqueles eletrodos que voce nao entende porra nenhuma. Mas nao, ela esta perdendo tempo vendo que voce esta de pe. Voce se acalma, sabe que a sua raiva nao faz sentido algum. Ela so atrapalharia a paciente. Ela esta respirando bem melhor, a medica diz que o susto passou. Ela esta bem. Estao todos bem.Voce se lembra que seus amigos ainda estao esperando na entrada. Voce nao sente o cansaco, voce ainda nao reconhece que esta tenso, a unica coisa que voce sente naquele momento e gratidao, tao forte que sufoca. De fato, ter amigos e a melhor coisa do mundo. Isso sim, importa muito.
Ja estava marcado para acontecer, apesar de nao ter sido sua a decisao.A denuncia ja estava feita, e o rapaz teria que encarar a consequencia.Se a denuncia era verdadeira ou falsa, de nada isso importava.Esse dilema, por sinal, lhe tirava o sono em algumas noites.Era ele culpado? E se ele fosse, o que teria levado a isso?Incerto sobre a veracidade de seu coracao,o rapaz caminha: o mundo lhe parece abafado, quase mudo.Se existem palavras de coragem de seus amigos, ele nao as ouve.Naquele momento, todo o seu foco esta no confronto.Lembrar do confronto o deixa ainda mais zonzo,entao ele percebe que estava apenas prendendo a sua respiracao.Habito comum para ele ultimamente,preferindo privar a sua mente de oxigenio.Para que colocar a engrenagem para trabalhar, quando se tem medo do produto final?Ele chega do lado de fora, e nao faz mais sentido se a denuncia foi exata ou nao.O julgamento ja havia sido feito antes que ele pudesse apresentar quaisquer defesaO vencedor tambem ja estava declarado. Estava estampado nos olhos serenos,quase piedosos de seu oponente. Nenhum dos dois sentiriam muito prazer nisso.Se fosse em outros tempos, outros momentos ou circunstancias,talvez o rapaz pudesse sair vitorioso...Mas de nada adiantaria pensar nisso.A sua mente, antes vagando dentre as possibilidades, agora estava concentradaSo uma coisa importava agora: Lutar! - a exclamacao aqui e muito importante.E comeca a batalha.O seu oponente prepara para desferir o primeiro golpe,mas essa luta e do rapaz, que dita o tom dessa disputa.Em uma inspiracao brilhante, ou apenas tola, ele chama o oponente para cimaO oponente vem com tudo, querendo apenas acabar logo com aquela situacao desagradavelO rapaz desvia do primeiro soco.Jamais em seus sonhos ele esperava conseguir desviar.Ele percebe que nao esta mais tao afetado pelo medo, pela incerteza.Naquele momento, o rapaz sente o leve gosto da vitoria.Naquele momento, o triunfo nao esta em vencer a luta.Jamais. A Gloria esta em lutar. Ele sorri. Ele esta em extase. Ele e forte, ele pode ganhar!Ele e fraco, ele nao pode ganhar. Mas ele cre em sua vitoria impossivel,o sucesso de ainda estar de pe, disputando por uma verdade incerta,mas desesperadamente disputando. Ele desfere seu soco.Nao e o soco que ele gostaria de dar, que ele estava treinando para dar.E um soco desajeitado, nao calculado, sequer foi pensado.Mas ele acerta em cheio. Ele tocou na alma, porem nao deixou hematomas.Em sua mente, e apenas em sua mente, o oponente cambaleia.O oponente nao cambaleia. O rapaz ri, triunfante, e leva uma direita no queixo.Ele apaga antes de cair no chao, mas isso nao importa.O soco de seu oponente foi tao forte, tao veloz, que o rapaz ainda se sente um vencedor.O ultimo gosto daquele embate que ele levara para si e o sabor da vitoria de ter tentado.Cair lutando, deve ser sobre essa sensacao que as historias dizem.Ele nao lembrara desse acontecimento pela parte onde ele caiu.Pois ele nao caiu derrotado.Ele acertou aquele soco. E para ele, isso era tudo o que importava.O ultimo gosto que ele sentiu nao foi o gosto metalico de seu sangue.O ultimo gosto que ele sentiu foi o sabor da
superacao de ter tentado.E como foi maravilhoso esse sabor.Post MortemEssa historia nao e sobre violencia, quem assim o achar estara sendo tao tolo e cegoquanto o rapaz.Rapaz este que por um momento acreditou que venceria o duelo do amor impossivel.Mas o que seria do rapaz sem a sua miopia, sem a sua tolice?
Im sorry, I didnt hear your question, said the murdered mans wife, Sophie, as she wiped her tears away. She patted her simple, black suit and straightened herself, as if preparing for the questions.I said, what was Ralph like when he was growing up? repeated patiently her lawyer, an old man who was as ordinary looking and uninteresting as his personalized suit. Ralph has always had attention problems, Sophie began, without looking at her son, it began when he was very small. Hed cherish every second of attention Id give to him as a baby, and he would always cry when I had to leave him for his father. We found it extremely cute at the time. She smiled.Ralph, sitting handcuffed next to his lawyer, looked quietly at the unrecognizable Sophie, revealing nothing. His defendant, Christina, a young lawyer on her mid twenties, laid a reassuring hand on his left thigh. She wouldnt be here if she wasnt dating his uncle, who had hated Sophie, but Ralph was thankful for her help. He had no money for a decent lawyer.When he was 8, his craving for my attention got worse, Sophie said, smiling as if she had just remembered a particularly funny incident from the past. There was this time, I argued with John in front of him. That was a big mistake. Ralph wouldnt speak to his own father for weeks! He wouldnt even let John pick him up from school, it was a real nuisance.Although the incident had happened many years ago, Ralph still remembered it quite clearly.***Ralph was playing with his toy cars in his room. The hero car, a transparent model was pursuing the villain, a red sports car, who had just kidnapped the heros girlfriend, when he heard something breaking loudly downstairs in the kitchen. He scurried to the stairs, hearing the voices grow louder and louder as he got closer.Youre screwing her, arent you?! screamed his mother.I will not discuss this nonsense! His father stormed away from the kitchen. Reaching the stairs, he spotted Ralph standing there, holding his toy cars. He stood there for a while, looking at his son, and then left Ralphs vision, heading for the door.Ralph found his mother crying in the kitchen.Mommy, are you ok?She looked at him, her eyes red, her makeup a mess. Although he was very young, Ralph would never forget her words, or the way she looked deep into his eyes as she said them.Your father has cheated on me. Promise me, Ralph. Promise me you will never cheat on your woman. Promise me.***What was the argument about?Oh, it was nothing special. I dont even remember what it was. Couples frequently argue over nothing, really, said Sophie, smiling carefree.That bastard cheated on her, and she defends him, muttered Ralph under his breath, audible only to Christina.What about school? Had Ralph ever revealed himself as an aggressive person in school?Huh? I dont think so. Well, once... he got in a fight during school. Children stuff, one of his classmates called me something bad during an argument they were
having, and Ralph attacked him, Sophie said, waving her right hand dismissively, I remember the schools shrink called us that night.What did she say?That he had a... complex of some sort. The doctor told me my son seemed to love me very much, but that it was normal at his age. Of course my son loves he, hes my son! I didnt need a shrink to help me figure that out. Sophie gave a little laugh.Ralph munched on the soft spot of his left hand between his thumb and his index, which was a habit he had. His eyes never left his mothers figure, a look of contempt so strong in his eyes. He just felt so betrayed.Has Ralph ever had reasons to hate his father? asked the lawyer.Another memory from the past forced its way unwillingly to Ralphs mind.***Ralph had just arrived home that night. He had found his mother crying in her room.Mother, are you alright? Ralph asked, sitting down next to her.Yes... Im fine, honey, she said, trying to fake a laugh. Ralph noticed she was hiding her face.Mother, did he hit you? Ralph asked, his voice croaked. As if answering his question, his mother pulled him close and hugged him, starting to cry again. They stayed like that for a long minute, Ralph feeling the pleasant warmth of his mothers body, trying to understand what sort of a monster John had to be to do what he did.I promise you he will never touch you again, Ralph whispered to her ears, almost passionately.***Please answer the question, madam, said the judge, speaking for the first time in a long while, has Ralph ever had reasons to hate his father? Not that I can remember, said Sophie. She caught Ralphs eyes for a split second, looked away and continued, Ralph was always extremely competitive with his father, but he was never an aggressive kid. They were not the best of friends, admittedly, but John had never really given any reason for Ralph to dislike him. Except for him being my husband.I have one last question, madam. Could you please tell us what happened on the fifth of May?***On the day that Ralph ruined his life, he had gotten a phone call from his mother, asking him to come home. She sounded scared, so he went home as fast as he could.Ralph pushed the door open to find his mother sitting on the living room carpet, clutching a long, bleeding cut on her right arm, crying hysterically.Mother, what happened?! Ralph shouted, throwing his backpack to the ground and running to her aid. She turned towards him and he noticed she had a slight cut above her eye, where his father had probably hit her.You promised me he would never hit me again! She screamed, out of herself. Her words shocked him, but he instantly realized what he had to do.Yes, I did. And he never will, mom. Not again. Ralph headed towards the living room cupboard, where he had left his baseball bat, and picked it up.His mother saw him picking
up the weapon and said, weakly, Do it, Ralph. Ralphs resolve flickered for a while, realizing what he was about to do. Sophie noticed his weakness.Kill him, Ralph, kill him! She shouted like a mad woman, Your father was never half the man you are, and he will never be. Hes the only thing standing in the way of our happiness!Ralph tightened his grip on the baseball bat and headed towards the stairs.He found his father in his parents bedroom. He was holding his cell-phone in one hand, whispering sadly on it as he looked at his leg, where a knife was stuck. His leg was bleeding profusely. He noticed Ralph coming in, but he didnt notice the bat.Ralph? Ralph, you shouldnt be here this early, he began, as if that was of any relevance to what was happening, you... go to a friends house. Y-yes, thats best right now. Your mother, ah... your mother isnt feeling very well right now and... his voice trailed away as he noticed the bat.What are you doing, Ralph? Ralph took one step closer.Ralph? Ralph no! You got it all wrong, Ralph! RALPH!***Sophie unconsciously clutched her arm, where the knife cut had happened, before answering. Ralph came home that night and... and he found us arguing. He had a dangerous look in his eyes. I tried to tell him that it was nothing, tell him that couples argue all the time, but he wouldnt listen. He was always so angry when John and I argued, but this time... this time it was different, said Sophie, taking a deep breath. Ralph told me he loved me, he told me that everything would be different from now on , that John would never argue with me again, and then he picked up his bat and he... he... his mother began crying softly, burying her face in her hands.Madam, please continue your answer, the Judge said, not unkindly.After... after doing what he did, he came down those stairs, soaked in Johns blood and... he tried to kiss me! Sophie waved her arms dramatically in the air. My own son, with his fathers blood on his clothes, tried to kiss me!His lawyer noticed his unrest and squeezed his right thigh again, she had warned him that Sophies words would be strong, and that he couldnt react to any of it. Ralph wanted nothing more than to call out her lie right there, right then, but he nodded at Christina. He could still feel his lips warm where they had fleetingly touched his mothers after it was over. And then she had turned against him. No further questions. Sophies lawyer said.The Judge turned towards Christina, asking her if she had any more questions towards Sophie. Christina had only one, and she didnt bother standing up for it.Madam, do you know who called the police on that night? Christina asked, without taking her eyes away from the papers in front of her.Huh? No...No further questions. After Sophie went back to her place, Christina finally stood up. Your honor, I would like to