The stars all gleam with possibilities

Introverts, you are OK.

An introvert being erm... introverted!

After the TED talk I posted a few days ago, this is the second article I find this week about introverts. This time The Guardian discovers that being quiet, shy and a "what if" thinker is not all bad.

We live with a value system that I call the Extrovert Ideal – the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha and comfortable in the spotlight.

Don't say!

Introversion – along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness, and shyness – is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology.

QUICK! Pass one of those extroversion pills before it's too late!

Velocity of speech counts as well as volume: we rank fast talkers as more competent and likable than slow ones.

"And then he was like 'Uh...' and I was like 'Duh!'"

Without introverts, the world would be devoid of Newton's theory of gravity, Einstein's theory of relativity, WB Yeats's The Second Coming, Chopin's nocturnes, Proust's In Search of Lost Time, Peter Pan, Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, The Cat in the Hat, Charlie Brown, the films of Steven Spielberg, Google (co-founded by introvert Larry Page) and Harry Potter.

"Wassup with this list?! Steven makes cool movies, yeah? But the others didn't go to gigs not even nearly often enough. Specially that Chopin dude!"

"The glory of the disposition that stops to consider stimuli rather than rushing to engage with them is its long association with intellectual and artistic achievement. Neither E=mc² nor Paradise Lost was dashed off by a party animal."

"Booooriiing!!!"

A few things introverts are not: the word introvert is not a synonym for hermit or misanthrope. Introverts can be these things, but most are perfectly friendly.

Oh really?! Disturb my blog-ing time and you'll see.


In conclusion, we can all breathe a breath of relief - it's ok to be introverted as introverts are not sick people after all. Phew! I'll cancel my operation then.

Read the full article: Why the world needs introverts

Are you an introvert, extrovert or do you swing both ways? Do the Quiz: are you an introvert?

And I will make you a present of a secret

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near - "Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the colour of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."

The little prince went away, to look at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.

"You are beautiful but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you - the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except for the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose."

~ The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, p66-68

Saramago

José Saramago

"We use words to understand each other and even, sometimes, to find each other."

"There are times when it is best to be content with what one has, so as not to lose everything."

"What kind of world is this that can send machines to Mars and does nothing to stop the killing of a human being?"

“Perhaps it is the language that chooses the writers it needs, making use of them so that each might express a tiny part of what it is.”

"Every man has his own patch of earth to cultivate. What’s important is that he dig deep."

"Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are."

José Saramago (1922-2010)

Big tiny

Through the ear of the butterfly
gently the breeze shouts,
stop, listen to the rain drops
splashing the petals' spots.

High above from the grass blade
spy a tiny human being play,
with a smile speaking fascination
over ants, beetles and clay.

Walk under leaves, climb up stems,
dive into the nectar you must.
Shower in the palpable flowery scent,
bathe in its sweetness until dusk.

AL 01/08/2011

Picture by TanWei

What you cannot imagine

"I died from minerality and became vegetable;
And from vegetativeness I died and became animal.
I died from animality and became man.
Then why fear disappearance through death?
Next time I shall die
Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
After that, soaring higher than angels -
What you cannot imagine,
I shall be that." 

~ Rumi

"When a baby is taken from the wet nurse,
it easily forgets her
and starts eating solid food.

Seeds feed awhile on ground,
then lift up into the sun.

So you should taste the filtered light
and work your way toward wisdom
with no personal covering.

That's how you came here, like a star
without a name. Move across the night sky
with those anonymous lights." 

~ Rumi

O Linux nosso de cada dia

Esta é p'rós "geeks" ; )

Logotipos do Linux e varias distribuições

O Linux Nosso

"Linux nosso que estais no PC
Bem compilado seja o vosso Kernel
Venha a nós o vosso código
Seja feita a vossa tarball
Assim em casa como no trabalho
O bit nosso de cada dia seja escovado
Apagai com rm -rf
Para nunca mais recuperar o que foi perdido
Não nos deixeis errar a compilação
E livrai a todos da M$, Amém."
~ Autor desconhecido

The Self: a poem by Friend

The Self

"It is only the self that can profit
it is only the self that can gain
it is only the self that sheds its tears
from laughter love and pain.

It is only the self that gets lonely
as it is only the self that can care
and it is only by self realization
that the self can become self-aware.

So it is only the self that is selfish
as only the self can be less
and it is only the self that is everything
that's why I'm in such a mess.

For only the self can cause doubt
and only the self can cause fear
and it is only the self that can fuck things up
the things the self holds dear.

So if only the self learns the lessons
before it leaves it too late
or the self by not recognizing
will doom itself to an unconscious fate."

by Friend

Know: a poem by Friend

Know

"Know one can make a difference
Know one can change it all
Know one can learn the lessons
or know one in fractions will fall

Know one can look to the future
Know one can learn from the past
Know ones' free will is al they have
and know one can change really fast

Know one can look in the mirror
Know one can see their own fate
Know one can truly love and care
or know one will leave it too late

Know one can live without envy
Know one can wake from the sleep
Know one can stop all the violence
and know one can take faiths leap

Know one can stop all the wars
Know one can stop all the crime
Know one can take the right action
or know one will run out of time

Know one can live in freedom
know one can truely share
know one can open up one's heart
and know one can be aware."

by Friend

Tudo o que eu queria

Tudo o que eu queria era nascer,
brincar e correr,
mas porquê morrer?

Tudo o que eu queria era aprender
o jogo de viver,
mas e se perder?

Tudo o que eu queria era sinceridade
seriedade sem piedade,
mas será verdade?

Tudo o que eu queria era sentir
as asas a abrir,
mas para onde partir?

Tudo o que eu queria era voar
além do luar,
mas para quê voltar?

Tudo o que eu queria era amor
com todo o furor,
mas sem dor, por favor!

Tudo o que eu queria era conseguir
te deixar ir,
mas sem fingir.

Tudo o que eu queria eras tu...

AL 05/02/11

Seeds

Seeds of infinite possibility,
plunged
into a dungeon of delusion.

Slaves to insatiable dread,
mind-bound,
by forgetfulness of their origins.

Coldly use, betray and abandon
lifetimes,
depths of sentience.

Blindly seeking themselves,
lost,
shredded hearts pave their paths.

Reaching for Truth
outside,
eternally searching,
perpetually trapped.

AL 12/8/10

Bias

Pebble

Picked up a Pebble
it was smoothly bright
made his heart tremble,
never felt so right.

Dazzled by Its essence
he had found home
as if in adolescence
falling in love syndrome.

Without asking a question
and assuming mutual attraction
became the inevitable obsession,
main source of satisfaction.

Never lost from vision,
admired Its countless strengths,
Its stunning light emission,
along all Its lengths.

One sad gloomy night
noticed a small crack
the shock, the fright,
felt like an attack.

Filled with great gratitude
for having found love
tried ignoring Its attitude,
tried to rise above.

But he was weak
and the wee break
started to look bleak,
despite it being fake.

Until the inevitable arrived,
from squeezing too strong
It had not thrived,
was sad too long.

In fear and pain
the final wrath strike
how unfair, how insane
It slipped in dislike.

Under abysmal irreversible damage
It had to return,
wished It bon voyage
repressing his own heartburn.

Realizing what he wasted,
how profound the upset,
wished it had lasted,
too late to regret.

Rhymes describe the experience,
superficiality of the observable,
never the true grievance,
the feelings, the Pebble.

AL 28/7/10