I hate when casual conversations go into the homosexuality subject. It sounds like it’s an abstract thing we’re talking about, not exactly complex and individual human beings. One of the things that always pops up is the pride parade, specially since there’s been a few here in Portugal recently. The response is always the same too. Why should we have to know their sexuality? We don’t go around telling the whole world we’re proud to be straight. Why should we have to put up with them saying over and over again they’re so proud to be gay?

When a gay man says he’s proud to be gay, what I hear is that he’s proud to be who he is. A person is not their sexuality, obviously. So why the focus on the sexuality? Because that’s where he gets discriminated against. You can take it as a way of speaking up if you will. I have no right to say I am proud to be straight because my sexuality has never been a cause of pain for me. I’ve never been teased or bullied because of it, I’ve never lost any opportunities I may have otherwise gotten because of it. So why should I specify it?

Equally, on race (because people tend to be more sensible there, although I’m not completely sure why). I am white and the majority of the Portuguese people is and always has been white. So, there’s never been much discrimination aimed at people with fair skin. For me to say I am proud of being white would be offensive to those who belong to minorities and suffer or have suffered because of the color of their skin. I can be proud of being who I am as a whole, obviously, but I have no right to specify my color because it has never been a source of pain to me.

I also keep hearing about how homosexuality is just a fashionable thing nowadays, and how it’s just something some people use to stand out. Do you know what homosexuality still means? It means being called certain names, it means having people assume certain things of you, it means being bullied and teased, it can mean being physically hurt.

Yes, well. Quite a fashionable thing. And this goes hand in hand with it being a choice. Someone would actually choose all of that over the possibility to be considered “normal”? No, no one would, because it’s not a choice.

I understand there may be flaws in my ways of thinking, and I’d be very opened to discussing them, intelligently. I’ve been told I simplify these issues too much. But does this make any sense to you? Maybe it’s just that I have limited experience with people who have undergone and are affected by this. Maybe this is just a point of view from someone who’s never had to deal with that specific form of discrimination personally. But it just makes sense, and it seems simple to understand to me.

This has been more of a personal post, about my feelings on homophobia. It eats me up inside when I don’t speak up when I hear these stupid remarks, but I just can’t get to people around me in real life when the opportunities come up, for various reasons too. Because really…

The statement “Our generation is more open-minded, we are more tolerant and accepting” together with the “why do they have to go around shouting it to people” or the “it’s fashion” one, will just make you sound as a bigot, and an hypocrite one too for not owning it, at least. Pull your head out of your ass and start thinking like the intelligent and educated people you are. The jokes aren’t funny, the way you word things out without thinking how it’ll affect the people around you - that you don’t even know by the way - isn’t funny, and laughing at certain words makes you look like a complete idiot.

I have to find a way of speaking up and confronting people on these things with a bit more tact.

It’s rare, but sometimes, if I know the day is going to be terrible, I do the same. When I’m getting ready to leave the house in the morning, I sneak into the kitchen when my mother isn’t there, and take one Diazepam with me (Valium’s generic). I discretely take it with coffee at University, if by then I still don’t think I can make it through the day.

I normally take it to sleep (any more than one will make me sleep), and Diazepam doesn’t go very well with coffee anyway (shaky hands, mostly). But the calming effect still works. And if that’s what I need to survive that day and make it home in one piece, it’s okay.

To the person who wrote that secret: it’s okay.

The second semester of University is coming to an end. And what do I do? I go to the movies.

No, really, the final exams will be coming soon and I won’t be able to go out then, so I figured I’d go now while I still have the spare time. Specially, because there was this new movie out… I watched all the trailers when it got out on America, and it seemed really interesting and scary. Now, wanting to have a last go to the movies before exam season and considering my new taste for horror movies, The Mist was perfect.

It wasn’t the scariest movie I’ve ever gone to see (that one’s still [REC]). It wasn’t exceptionally realistic or well founded either, as you can easily find out through a quick Google search. Or that innovative, for that matter. Monster movies seem to be coming back now (although my favorite will continue to be Cloverfield).

The ending though. The ending was what really got to me. It was probably the best and saddest that I’ve seen. I’ll try not to spoil anything, but when you realize what is happening and what the main character has done. And when he realizes what is happening and what he has done…

Honestly, that was the most primal and true cry I’ve ever heard and seen. The only reason I didn’t leave the movie theater whimpering was because my mother was with me (I need to find someone a bit more emotional to go along with me). Everyone else in the room was laughing and giggling, including her, because the scream was so different from what you usually hear. I’m thinking it would have seemed more “normal” if he were on his knees, with his arms up in the air, looking at the sky and screaming a long and dramatic “No”. Sure. That would be exactly what I would do if I’d done what he… I won’t go and describe it for you, but here’s the video (with very high quality by the way), if you want to watch it. Jump to 08:40 for the scream alone.

I don’t usually read books after watching the movies that have been made about them, but I’m thinking I might make an exception for this one. Maybe…

Sleeping what?

My sleeping “patterns”, let’s call it that, have been going a bit crazy again. To prevent further arguments with my mother about the sleeping pills Diazepam I sometimes take, I decided to conscientiously change the said patterns themselves. I now sleep during the day and do my things during the night. It’s been going on for a couple of weeks now and I have to say I don’t dislike it.

In the morning I’m already really tired and it’s hard to be attentive and focused on classes. I have to leave the house at either 7 or 9AM, depending on the days, and get home everyday at 3PM, so it’s rough to stay awake and not doze off  in the meantime. That’s not good, obviously. But then again, if I can’t sleep at night and take a few Diazepams, while getting some sleep at the right time, the outcome is the same. I’ll still be sleepy and zombie-like. So why not take the time and do something useful, leaving the sleep to when I’m actually tired?

I’ve been falling asleep right after lunch, at around 4PM. I admit I sometimes still take the Diazepam behind my mother’s back - the whole ‘avoid arguments’ thing - when I see I’m not being able to fall asleep that easily. But most times, I just lay down my head and I’m out, almost immediately (and for quite a while too - managed more than 5 hours of sleep today). That’s not entirely bad either, in more than one way. “I just lay down my head and I’m out, almost immediately”, do you know what that feels like for a chronic insomniac? And also, I get to miss all the commotion and stress - meaning people - of the day, which leads me to: peace. 

The only noise I hear right now is the computer, the fan and my cat’s purr. Everyone’s asleep, neighbors included, no cars or people outside. It’s the perfect environment to do whatever you feel like doing. Okay, so I can’t really exercise (too much noise from the stationary bicycle for the neighbors), but other than that, night time is perfect to work. There’s virtually no noise or interruptions or distractions or anything.

There’s yet another problem related to this, but I think I’ll take care of it only when I have to. What about when you have to be awake during the actual day? I happen to have a nice schedule this semester and get home everyday at 3PM, but what about family lunches or dinners or going out with friends? I doubt I can keep the same schedule forever, and my family or friends probably don’t want to stop by during night… Again, I’ll leave that problem to when it comes to me and I have to deal with it. For now, I want to see how it goes and how I can keep it.

It’s half past three now, and I’m feeling very productive here. I know I won’t feel that way once it’s eight in the morning and I’m on my first class, but I’ll survive (there’s always at least one coffee machine around). Now, it’s study time again.

Being eight years older than me, my brother had a computer before I did, naturally. It was an Amiga 1200 from Commodore.

Of course he did some work, but in all truth, the Amiga was mostly about games. And how I loved to watch him play. Looking back now, I’m sure it was quite annoying for him, but the magic of that little box (gigantic in today’s standards) was just hypnotizing for me.

When I was around 7 years old, he got another computer, a PC with Windows. Since I had already learned how to read and write, my brother decided to teach me how to work on the Amiga and how to play some games. Not because I nagged him almost to death, he just decided it was nice. Yes, anyway.

At first, the only types of games I could play were Galaga and Arakanoid styled ones, and my English consisted of the words “play”, “load”, “save” and “quit”.

As time went by though, I started playing games like SimCity and the Monkey Island Series. Games that actually needed you to understand the language they were in. It was with that computer that I really started learning English. It’s one thing to listen to cartoons on TV. Actually having to read and write and understand a language, for the sole purpose of having fun, works completely different. My grammar was far from perfect, obviously, and I’m sure I was quite a pain for my brother, always asking questions. But then again, look at where I am now (University, Portuguese/English “Languages, Literatures and Cultures” course).

At a certain point, I was completely addicted to all the games we had - and they weren’t exactly just a few… My mother would even have to yell at me so I’d get off the computer to go to the bathroom. There were just so many of them and they were all so exciting, I never felt like stopping. If I got bored with one, I’d just pick another one up. Those were the days.

I never really got the same excitement with the games that exist now as I did with the ones from Amiga. The new SimCities are great and beautifully made, I wouldn’t trade my Final Fantasies for anything, and there are also the online games. But still, it’s different. Every time I thought of the wonderful times I had in front of that great machine, I felt nostalgic and sad.

Our Amiga is now put away. The monitor had to be thrown out, because we’d get an electric shock every time we tried to turn it on (it was that old), but the rest of the computer is carefully wrapped in plastic bags and old cloths, kept safely in my room.

I tried looking for emulators and getting them to work with the games I missed the most, but I never really managed to succeed. They were all too complicated and I would almost always end up with a new virus on my Windows. It’s only now, with my iBook, that I’ve finally been able to play the old Amiga games, using DOSBox and MacMame.

Do you remember Bubble Bobble? And Alley Cat? And Cannon Fodder, Fury of the Furries, RoboCod, the Dizzy series, Beneath a Steel Sky, Dune, SuperFrog, Alien Breed, the first SimCity, Lemmings?

The excitement, it’s still there!

I still feel like I’m missing a lot, and every week I end up remembering another one and getting it. My DOSBox folder just keeps growing and growing. My latest addition was the way-too-cute and addictive-all-over-again Rainbow Islands. And there are still some I haven’t been able to find, like Fire and Ice and Wiz’n'Liz and even the extremely well done Agony for example.

You can seriously have no idea or understand my happiness if you’ve never played any of these old games. You’re not too late, you can still give them a try.

I feel like that was the beginning of gaming, and that I’m very lucky to have been able to witness and live through it. When I’m really old, I’ll get to tell my grandchildren about these ancient games I used to play that no longer exist… Anyway, I’m getting addicted all over again. You can certainly expect more of these posts from me, because I’m honestly going crazy here.

I’m just going to have another go at- is it four in the morning already?

Today marks the 34th anniversary of the Portuguese Carnation Revolution, where we became free of our dictator. As always, there are big parties going on, and I just came from one, the first of this special day, began exactly at midnight.

I almost didn’t make it. I was supposed to go with some friends, but ended up going with my mother. Don’t ask me how that happened, it just did.

When we got there, there were people everywhere. By the river specially, from where the fireworks get fired up. You couldn’t get anywhere near it. So we waited in a big park nearby to watch the show.

Near that park, there was a stage put up for the event, where loud speakers playing typical songs of the 25th of April Revolution were. The most famous ones got everyone singing along, which was really beautiful and warm. It was special.

And the fireworks, those were wonderfully synchronized with the musics that were playing. It’s the first time they’ve done it too, at least since I can remember. And it turned out great. The blasts and the explosions of color were almost perfectly synchronized with the different rhythms of the songs.

I loved one special detail in particular. When Grândola Vila Morena was playing, the song that started the Revolution itself, all the fireworks launched were red, like the carnations used to replace the weapons. That was the one people sang along more as well. Did I mention it was special? It really was. (listen in boomp3.com)

The whole event was extremely innovative and creative, and it turned out perfect. To think I almost missed it.
Happy Liberty Day!

Is there a nobler aspiration that the desire to be free? It is by his freedom that a man knows himself, by his sovereignty over his own life that a man measures himself. To violate that freedom, to flout that sovereignty, is to deny man the right to live his life, to take responsibility for himself with dignity. [...] To strip man of his freedom is not to believe in man.

Elie Wiesel, From the Kingdom of Memory

I’ve been going on and on about Coca-Cola Zero for a while now. I only recently discovered it, and ever since then… At the exam period on University’s first semester, I was drinking it like water. I’m kind of surprised about the little excitement there is about it though.

I abruptly stopped every single unhealthy food and beverage I used to take when I started losing weight. Like french fries, for example, we don’t make them in this house anymore. If I have them, it’s because it’s a special day and we’re eating out. Crackers, my mother insists on having them, but I don’t even get near the cupboard where they are.

I also cut off most things that were heavy in calories. Not that they were unhealthy things, they were just something that was adding up to my calorie count at the end of the day when I was trying to lose weight. Bread and pasta, for example - both now again a part of my diet.

With all of this considered, Coca-Cola was absolutely prohibited. It was both unhealthy, since it was all sugar, and heavy in calories. But then, Coca-Cola Zero appeared.

Zero calories, sure. Of course I didn’t believe it, it was probably like all those other “diet” products, 10 calories lighter than then the original product - which meant it was still too much. But still. I started doing some research about it. After reading enough and finally believing the number of calories it had, I decided to give it a try. It probably tasted horrible anyway.

But it didn’t. It tasted exactly like the Coca-Cola Classic - from what I could remember at least, since I hadn’t had that in a while. It was sweet and fresh and bubbly… And - best thing yet - the caffeine was the same. Considering that caffeine actually speeds up you metabolism, Coca-Cola Zero can actually help you either lose or maintain your weight.

And so I really can’t believe the little attention it has been getting. It’s just like the regular Coca-Cola which has 140 calories per can and is all sugar, except it has 0.7 calories per can and it’s all sweeteners and caffeine. 140 calories is the equivalent to two apples, maybe even more depending on their size. Now, 0.7 calories, do you realize what that is? Okay, imagine a Tic-Tac and then cut it in half. That’s one calorie right there. A can of Coca-Cola Zero has less calories than half a Tic-Tac. What is there not to love and be excited about?

It’s still not an healthy drink, so of course you shouldn’t have too much of it. But if you feel like something sweet and fresh, or if you’re tired and need that special rush… well, it’s the healthy choice between all the unhealthy choices I guess.

If you haven’t tried it, go ahead and do it, you’ll love it! If you’re like certain acquaintances of mine and don’t like it though, then there’s something wrong with either you or your taste buds. Sorry.

After being to the movies to watch things like 10.000 AC or The Bucket List, I was feeling like it was time for something different, a horror movie. The last one of the kind I had watched was Cloverfield, and even that couldn’t really be called an horror movie (although I loved it and went to watch it three times).

So I decided it was time for a serious, scary, horror movie. This one called [REC] caught my attention. It was definitely a horror movie, and the filming technique was supposed to be similar to Cloverfield’s, meaning first person, shaky camera kind of thing. That was one of my favorite things about Cloverfield, because it made it so realistic and believable.

Because for a movie to be enjoyable, you kind of have to let yourself believe it could be true - or that it is true - at that precise moment at least. And with all genres, really, not just horror. Love stories, for example, wouldn’t be very romantic if you didn’t allow yourself to believe they could happen or did happen to someone, would they? Well, moving on, the amazing thing about Cloverfield was that you didn’t really have to do much to make yourself believe. The movie and the way it was done was so plausible, it would just become your reality right away.

This [REC] movie seemed to be good from what I’d seen. I didn’t watch any teaser or trailer, and even now that I have, they really don’t do the movie any justice. I just read a few small introductions and reviews from the movie theater’s website, googled some images and that was it.

Well, I’ll start by saying I left the cinema feeling really tired. I’m guessing it was because of how fast my heart was racing.

I knew it would be an horror movie, that’s what I wanted. But I don’t know, maybe I’m just too impressionable. I squeaked and squirmed like a little girl and looked away from the screen at certain times. And when I left the movie theater, I was just done for the day.

So, this Spanish movie was about a TV crew that made little reports at night on things that go on when most people are asleep. This specific issue of the said program was about firefighters. The first part is pretty much calm and introductory: there are quick interviews on firemen, there’s a guided tour, some amusing parts. And then, the alarm goes off.

We find out that an old lady was in need of help in her apartment, that her neighbors heard her screaming and decided to call for help. The TV crew, which was actually just a woman named Angela and her cameraman, went along with the firemen in their trucks.

At the building, the police were already present and all the neighbors were very nervous. A policeman and a couple of firemen went up, together with Angela and her cameraman (from which we see what’s happening) and enter the lady’s home.

Long story short: the woman attacks the policeman, by biting his face and ripping out a piece of flesh. The bleeding man is taken downstairs and assisted by the others. At this time, we realize the entire building was put on quarantine, and we know nothing of what’s happening. Only that people are randomly going crazy and biting and eating everyone else.

I won’t tell you what caused the behaviors, and specially, I won’t tell you the ending, only that is was extremely creepy. The entire movie ended up being so much more than what I expected. If you’re into the sort of thing, go ahead and watch it, it’ll be worth it. If you think you might not take it in well or have nightmares, go see it as well. You’ll get an amazing kick out of all the adrenaline.

I have to say this again though, the trailer is really light compared to the actual movie. If you wish, go google up some scenes.

*munch*