quarta-feira, 28 de maio de 2014

Tarja Turunen - Victim Of Ritual



lack Eyes and hardly breathing
When there's no light
You sacrifice
Alone amongst the living
You lost the fight before the fall

How did you end up in hell?

Hysterical, tragical
Victim of Ritual
Cynical, critical
Victim of ritual
She's a killer, killer
She's a killer, killer

Cold eyes for every sin
They tried to hide in thin disguise
Denied your soul from singing
Her darkest night, the night you died

How did you end up in hell?

Hysterical, tragical
Victim of Ritual
Cynical, critical
Victim of ritual
She's a killer, killer
She's a killer, killer

Pandemonium, where's your heart from?
Pandemonium, where's your heart from?


Very different, but not bad.

Nightwish - She Is My Sin



Take heed, dear heart
Once apart, she can touch nor me nor you
Dressed as one
A wolf will betray a lamb

Lead astray the gazers
The razors on your seducing skin
In the meadow of sinful thoughts
Every flower`s perfect

To paradise with pleasure haunted by fear

A sin for him
Desire within
A burning veil
For the bride too dear for him
A sin for him
Desire within
Fall in love with your deep dark sin

I am the Fallen
You are what my sins enclose
Lust is not as creative
As its discovery

To paradise with pleasure haunted by fear

A sin for him...

Bless me, undress me
Pick your prey in a wicked way
God I must confess...
...I do envy the sinners

I hear but how will I see?




A lady with a violin playing to the seals
Hearken to the sound of calling

Who tied my hands to the wheel?
The zodiac turns over me
(Come to me)
Somewhere there my fate revealed
I hear but how will I see

I tied myself to the wheel
The winds talk to my sails, not me
(Come to me)
Somewhere there my fate revealed
I hear but how will I see


Last weekend I saw an old friend from affar. This is what he though me. Thanks.
http://aseatosufferin.blogspot.pt/

domingo, 25 de maio de 2014

Homosexies

I'm not homosexual, but homophobia can really spike my nerves.

Stress and cortisol - the best of friends.

And it starts.

I've always been a strong believer in the holistic aspect of the human being.
I believe in the power of the body and the minding connected. When one is weaker, the other will suffer.
I don't mind other people taking medicines, but I don't take them myself. Or I didn't until now.



sexta-feira, 23 de maio de 2014

Faun - Da que deus

Nada melhor que uma excelente banda do ponto de vista não só musical, mas também do ponto de vista linguístico, e o cheirinho a pizza no forno.



Da que Deus mmamou o leite do seu peito
non e maravillia de saar contreito

Desto fez Santa Maria miragre fremoso
ena sa ygrej en Lugo, grand'e piadoso
por hua moller que avita tolleito
o mais de seu corp'e de mal encolleito

O bispo e toda a gente deant'estando
veend'asquest'e oynd'e de rijo chorando
viron que miragre foi e non trasgeito
porende loaron a Vigren a feito.

quinta-feira, 22 de maio de 2014

Warduna - Bjarkan



Du som bar meg niu vintre,

svøpet i eit slør
spunni av liv og død.



Ut av moders djupe kjød,
inn i verdas grøne lød.
Døy og bli født på ny.

quarta-feira, 21 de maio de 2014

Faun - Arcadia




Laske juoni juoksemahan
Virka vippelehtämähän
Kullaista kujoa myöten
Hopiaista tietä myöten
Jost'on sillat silkin pantu
Sillat sillkin, suot sametin
Veralla vetelät paikat
Pahat paikat palttinalla

Metsän ukko halliparta
Metsän kultainen kuningas
Ava nyt aittasi avara
Luinen lukko lonkahuta

Ukko kultainen kunningas
Hopiainen hallitsija
Anna mulle ainojasi
Kanna mulle kaunojasi
Kullassa kulisevia
Hopiassa helkkävia

Aja vilja vieremille
Aukeimmille ahoille
Minun metsipäivinäni
Erän etsiaikoinani

Blow some trumpet loud and free
Leave the hills of Arcady
Give thine oaten pipe away
Leave the hills of Arcady
Once the land of liberty
Land of ancient chivalry
Blow some trumpet loud and free
Leave the hills of Arcady




Let the line of forest animals run free,

Let the line of forest animals run free
Along the golden alley
Along the silver road
Where the bridges are made of silk
Bridges of silver, bogs of velvet
With broad cloth the wet places
Bad places with linen.



The old man of the forest, graybearded
The golden king of the forest
Open your wide storehouse
Open your bony lock



The old man, the golden king
The silvery ruler
Give me your only(??)
Carry me your beauties
Jingling in gold
Jingling in silver



Drive the flock to the slope
To the open clearings
During my forest days
My backwoods time of visitation.


Doesn't finnish just sounds so perfect?

segunda-feira, 12 de maio de 2014

Stuck

I don't like the way I'm going.

Fit not in.

Wondering how OCD, stress, anxiety and Queima/Cortejo would be a disaster? I am.
I'm very glad that I'm not in Coimbra now. I don't care if I have two goddaughters, if my godfather and godmother are there, if if if, I don't care. And I'm not looking forward for next year's Cortejo. Is it okay if I miss "my own" Cortejo?
I'm starting to think Coimbra was a mistake. I still haven't felt the magic, the "encanto" of Coimbra is still a mistery to me.
It seems to me that the "magic" comes out from the alcohol/drugs socialization. I don't drink or do drugs, so there is no excuse for me to go out to bars or discos, nor to dinners or febradas 'cause I don't eat meat either.  I'm also older than most of them. I've also lived more than most of them. I'm the outsider. Is that it? I'm the combination of all the undesired things a "friend" can be. My outside doesn't goes with my inside. I'm way to responsible for what my look tells of me. I'm way too experient for what my age says. I'm way too freaky for what society expects.
Being this unique makes it hard to fit in. Too cool for the nerd kids. Too boring for the wild ones. Too cute to be ignored. Not cute enough to be taken serious. Too young for older people. Too old for my class mates.
Seriously, I need to make those "forever friends" that everybody does in uni. How is it so easy for everybody?
I had a flashback of Miguel smiling and waving at me on last year's Serenata night, and than ignoring me. hmm...
I don't know. Thinking back on that now, I was clearly not comfortable that night.

sexta-feira, 9 de maio de 2014

The hot, and I'm not

Two days ago I went to the Aquarium, and it was awesome! Jellyfishes!
Yesterday I decided that I would go to the zoo today, to walk, see the animals, feel the nature, relax, bring my knitting supplies and do some scarf meditation.
I'm starting to think more about things before I do them, like planing the hole thing, so I know everything will go according to plan, timing, packing some snacks, water, hat, jacket, etc.
The initial plan was to to be there at the opening hour - 9h30 - since it will be fresher, and maybe the animals will be more active. Its a 1h walk to get there (yes, there are buses, but, If I'm not doing anything the entire day, if walking is good for relaxing, and I get to see a bit more of the city, why not?), so I would have to leave my place between 8h and at 8h30, which means waking up at around 7h (eat, exercise, shower, sun-cream myself, etc., takes a lot of time).
Since I woke up this morning at 9h, which was too late for what I've planned, I thought it was better to go after lunch, after to hot hour were done.
When it got to around the time I thought it was good to leave the place - 14h - I checked the weather, pretty sunny outside today, than  I checked the thermometer, and it said 45.2ºC.
What the fuck sun? Why so hot? I can not go do a 1h walk to the zoo with those temperatures!
I guess I'll be going there tomorrow  really early in the morning then.
It has dropped to 44.5ºC, but still...
Can't wait to be back in cold Ireland for the summer!
The plan was Norway, but hey, life said Ireland again. :D

Translation

I do not know if I've posted about this or not, although I have the feeling that I've talked/written about it, it still feels like I need to do it again.

I do not come from a poor nor rich family. I come from a hard working one, and I just happened to be a very conscious teenager that understood that having 3 month of vacations every summer was way too much free time to not do anything, and so I preferred to use that time to do something useful for myself  and for others. I remember looking at some of my friends, at the end of school year, talking about what they would do that summer, to which festivals would they go, where would they go camping, which beach should they chose that summer, and thinking myself, that I needed to find something to do. Off course that I also had vacations. I also went traveling. I also went to the beach. The difference is that I would work all summer, making that last week of summer so much more rewarding and enjoyable.
I see myself has an ambitious person, and somehow I knew that having a curriculum full of activities was an important thing in the future. Nowadays I struggle with my 6 page long curriculum, although I'm still doing my studies, so my "real adulthood life" jobs haven't even started.
I've been working since I was 14. It was never about the money, since most of them were part-time jobs, and the others were volunteer work.
I've worked in so many different things, archaeological excavations, tourist guide and museum helper, forest ranger, tutor in summer swimming camp, harvests, kinder garden (for a German speaking person, this English word kinder-garden is very confusing, and I always have to double check if I've written it in English or in German), volunteer in the hospital, Rehab center, volunteer firefighter, babysitter, au-pair, cleaning lady,  private lessons, and translation.
And this is where it comes to. To be a translator.
I've been asked to do some professional translations, this week I got asked again, but every-time that that was asked of me, the pricing was always an issue, I asked too little, and they would ask even less.
I faced myself with two options, either proudly refuse the work and explain what translation is and that there is a reason for the pricing , or cowardly accept the poor payed job but get some money out of it.
My question is, should I just let it get priced down, or fight for the dignity of translators?
Because I've seen some very wrong people offering to translate for 5€ a page. What?
Depending on the languages that are being used to translate, and if it is an official document, or per say, a children's book, the rates change, but, anyway, it fluctuates between 0.06€ to 0.15€ a word. A full page is worth way more than 5€.
It might feel like I'm being greedy, and that I just want the money, but hey, I'm studying and paying for my studies for something. If I wanted a badly payed job, I could just not spend a lot of money in my studies. Plus, after all the stress it has been causing me, it better pay off very well, 'cause I didn't signed up for this to get chronicle stress.
Anyway, the problem comes up when you are in need of money, you need to pay bills, eat, medical expenses, etc., and you either get proud and say not to a bad payed job, or say yes, get your money, but demean your jog and eventually your career, not to talk about your self-esteem.
This really annoys me, and it saddens me that people don't understand the value of translators.
I'm now starting to feel afraid to say the price of a translation when I'm asked to do one, because eventually they will say that it is too much, and try to price it down or turn the hole thing off.

http://search.proz.com/employers/rates


terça-feira, 6 de maio de 2014

Locks

So, it has been a week and something since my hair style changed. Some of my dread-locked friends also changed their hair style.
People that never had dreadlocks or long hair, or don't appreciate hair in a more general way, might think this is silly, but there is a lot of thinking involved in this process.
At this point, I don't know if I regret having done it or not.
Having dreadlocks, for dreadlocked people, its more than an hair style, it's a form of recognition,  it's a way of saying "cool man, we share the same believes" (most of the times). Having dreadlocks is kinda like belonging to a cult or a religion. I'm not talking about Rastafarians, although the two things are often connected. Its like belonging to a gang. You know your crowd, and they know you are one of them, just because you share a liking on the same hair style.
The other day I went to meet some people, and some of them had dreadlocks. My feeling was "cool, we share the same believes", but I could see on their faces that they didn't think the same, because I no longer have my dreadlocks, and they couldn't identify me. I'm no longer recognized by my crowd, and that saddens me. I lost part of my identity. I lost the power to fight the stigma. I was a non self-proclaimed pierced, tattooed a dreadlocked straight edge girl, and now I'm not. I was the proof that funny looking people are not all bad, that they can be good, in fact, very good, since I saved people and forests.
Plus, one of the reason for chopping of my hair was to see if it would get healthier. It keeps on falling like water in a waterfall, even thou I have been taking hair supplements.
Another reason was to make my mother happier, only did she cried a lot when she saw my hair.
So, now, I wonder if it was a good idea at all.

sexta-feira, 2 de maio de 2014

Anónimo disse: < 3

Um dia alguém disse que se deve experimentar uma coisa nova de vez em quando, por isso, desta vez, experimentei fazer topless no Monaco.