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felipebatera

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DD

1 min read
Well, I'm writing this journal in order to thank everybody who have faved and commented on my piece "Agnitio" ( felipebatera.deviantart.com/ar… ).
And also thanks for :iconjulizib: for suggesting it and :iconsine-out: for selecting it.

I am not going to be able to thank everybody personally, so I'll have to do it this way.
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What's left of your life when you can't trust yourself? When you can't separate what's good from what's not? And you lie on your bed all day trying to listen to the world outside you, but you're so trapped within yourself that you can't even breath some air that isn't already inside of your own body?
Am I really my worst enemy? Am I the one that is wrong, or maybe every single thing is so rotten, so rotten...
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Another day I read an essay some girl made on Cortazar's Rayuela. She was majoring in journalism and 'wanna be' a writter. As the essay wasn't very interesting, after I read some couple of paragraphs, I went to search about her, her interests in literature, etc, to know what kind of person I was dealing with.

Although she was an avid (I'm pushing much here) reader of modern/contemporary writters and knew some art, when I got to her music favs, I saw what I already expected: only pop and rock bands. This came to confirm once more one of my theories of how people wrongly approach arts... although they do have a minimum knowledge on a field of art, on other fields they are complete dumbasses. What I mean is easy to explain: to understand art, you have to understand and have contact with all kinds of artistic expressions. And modern music is often where most people know nothing. You won't understand art if you just listen to pop/rock bands and know nothing about Schoenberg, Ligeti, Scelsi, Bartók, Satie (and many more), and the history of modern music... and, similarly, you won't understand music if don't know about Picasso, Klee, Kandinsky and Pollock. The only way to know anything is to stop shoving the shit you listen, see and read everyday down your throat, and start to select what is good and what's not, and what makes sense to how we ended up here...



________________________________________________________
myspace.com/algaraviatrio
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myspace.com/algaraviatrio

Check it out =)

The version of the music I uploaded- "Abraço na Naná"- is not the one that's going to be on the finished record, but you can get a glimpse of my band's work.
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Isn't life sad?

2 min read
Yes, for me, it is. I am tired... tired of people, people that are so empty... people that want a trophy, like it really meant something. People that don't want to educate themselves, don't want to read books, just want pleasure!
I don't want to be part of this... I don't want to be remembered in a world like this... do you?
Poor me... I can't live alone also. I need people... but they're made of plastic.

Gandhi had to die! And what did we learn from it? Nothing. Not a thing! It's still the same shit everywhere!!

So, in the end, all I got is art. This fucking crap, art. Cause if it wasn't for it, I would do exactly what others did, and that is living alone in the nature, alone, far from anyone... and I would have to get my own food, my own medicines. So my art, or this crap I call art, is another world to me, far away from this one (the real one). Art is to me the same thing that a bottle of beer is to a drunk guy.
So fuck aesthetics. Fuck 'reality'.

Good-bye, my friend, good-bye.
My dear one, you are in my breast.
This predestined parting
Promises a meeting ahead.

Good-bye, my friend, without hand, without word
No sorrow and no sadness in the brow.
In this life, dying is nothing new,
But living, of course, isn't novel either.
                                   
               From Yesenin to Mayakovsky

True people, good people, don't have chance here. They are gone. They are born dead.
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DD by felipebatera, journal