Eduardo Alexandre Pinto

Copyright @ 2010 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved.

In honey tears the metalizing fog and the unusual move of things that look and guess for fitting to mind, namely to decide about the error that started in the lack of births creating deformed hands and diametrically opposed to courage in the decision to hit the deft hand, there is a clear day in natural form and on the calendar, the river, leaving the vessels and the moon following this time very connected to the disorganization of the fertility of the mind which may lie with the nostalgia of millions of minds, a golden tone in the outbreak of multiple forces when two or more distant lands, and souls, taking on his genuine chest. The words which proclaims hope, a space of trust and solidarity, where the machines move inside a large light and space opening in a new oxygenation of times on this constant questioning and working with urgency, it is difficult as there is water in the cosmos and on future sources of pleasure, the sun is estimated by marriage to the love … never being alone, under the sign of being human…

 A penniless logic does not disdain the huckster, it wanders that there are enough like a marble tomb sheltered by the reverberation of a huge decal of many western side stories. I put the hummus in a lost Portugal with the real formula that hoists the sexuality from these people, after the predisposition of the heart to strength and saving the cracks of all the economic measures for generations and generations in order to suspend their relationship with a poetic singularity in its pure direction and now at their eyes. So the pleasure with a logic of natural science of a constant emotional rotation, passionate and lifted from my inventory, but friendly to those who evokes Xu Zhimo for a love tattooed as art to think.

Copyright @ 2010 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved.

Poetry is like the mighty ocean by counting love blessings just before we start to drag the happy place where we were made while reason states self control of the all contrasts in a rising vitality.

Alex´s Poetry for his first poetical love, Bárbara:

Come in your whistling kind muscles

Like that one that by intuition

forming a long concentration of

 Adventure and a baptism of fire

when freedom was following my soul

 arriving at this affair where there is no difference.

In songs, the skies, are the spelling moves

the crawl of a bell that runs the fist

Lampoons on the very cradles

that were kissed in the mouth by June

is the cherry on the water with the sense of nonprofit?

 For each cup of feeling I can have a superb read

This is seen as what can be felt

And so fingers relayed these tunes with me sneaking

Aphorisms by the soft twilight

Sung as secrets that warm the cold

The right-handed and the extreme odor of my heart into heat

What a rise into a great breath

Signals the grimace that tells you more of this friend

In the configuration which blooms in its transformation

Knowing that there is life in progress

As our body goes into a gentle sleep

In a scarlet voice

As I am waiting for you, my dream

And the strength that can be so much late

And here I play as well 

Tomorrow the heart

Of a sacred birth

This union of vows and feelings

With a localized thinking

Living in security

Delivers this document because

 The vein has a whistling breath

And the run on the open prairie 

The foot where your eyes of black honey

Smiled once for being too foreign

Flanking your look as praise for your skin

It’s always the time for your encounter

In bid to interdict that in your center

In every breath and cheered accurate look

Among Gordian knots that the same postman

Sails, and with the years, the source of values

And I would not say that you are here without pain

Where we were two per among zillions

Above the illustrated and amazed thoughts

When the smile is stretching elastic beings

The sand here in your arms for the loving

And because it’s dawn, I estimate to be

A mild schism bare-chested

A mirror and you’re always

Home to meet the concise air

But as luck of the smooth trot

The crease at the neckline courteous November
 
Hip wound me, I’ll follow that

And the broom makes the holidays that you had

A tine thin wide finger

It’s the greasy touch

Connected to the time spent

Employed with the attentive soul

At sunset, as I recall

When looking at this member

Suggests that you are undressed

And you’ve got the sky that you dress

With that much desire

and be late

now in praise

of my splurge

I had signs

who sleep and sleeps

Read more at

whom I weave

Passing through years of light

Enumerating the name and identity

Polishing the voice that seduces me

When the rest of happiness

Perch in a zillion of steps

The Gordian knot gets the green

All the uniqueness of your traits

Segregating the beat of this seat

Your refinement plotting

As if was asking

What I have in me

And so as a nod

I tell you that I will be

In the hotbed  

And if I measure what I intuit

It’s your pout without erasure

That the cypress sets

As a sensitivity

Which runs very thin

May be your age

That defines what you were born

On the horizon you wrote

When I was arrested

Boiling this heart that is gone

Soft sunset I emanate

I am like you in the same flames

I have for taste, then return

In combat as in insurance of thinking

Here on Earth in the affairs of heaven

Flies with this vision of the veiled

And the taste of what makes you dive

Being the portion that binds us into two

I look you in a manly love pose

As having a certain dose with no withdrawals

Holding up very well

And lifted from your sky

Bárbara you are inside a delicate place

Revolving around what it might be seen

For any life comes without fog

And our bed is like love, the first

Anointing without blessing somewhere

I chimer in the land of nowhere

Solemn outdoor

And sideways without fainting

Who browses cities and nations
 
At the very sly row

As the heat of a fire

Around the cushion

Dozing what I think
 
No pain or census

Steadying myself on the horizon

In the fascination attached to the bridge

 A secret tells me that well

When I make a hundred

The axis and the bond between the royal forces

while the route of silence

listening to the other corner

when I dream, I know

by thinking about the landing of our law

and a stop parched, stands as a sign

if there is also a time of glory

light in each cyclical and annual

the pace of each life story

I give you a handkerchief and a nod

because when you think, I will follow you to whistle

because of this tension

Bent in for your posture, if the thinking

plane to land in fertile motions

a benign sun for us and the reptile

stands quiet at a first touch

In young fruit as alive as a trout

And we are also against the current  

And you have the reverse in the handwriting of fire

That wrap the tobacco team

Which is a metaphor that barricade and seals

The benefit of our distraction

You came on the side that was our soul

And early vines with sweet talk

Broke and beautiful as your voice

Now in our mouth with love

Longing sighs in several years

In contrary tones

That the tone of this post

It’s the skin that you seen

Recent subliminal paintings

As your air is heard

at the foot of the bed loving

bodies in some momentum  

flows to the resin at the behest

which knows how to run and powerfully  

these maneuvers with sui generous margins

Yet this life I feel in distress

In the shadows I guess there are splendid truths

How to center you Miss?

On the fate of your hip

Such a young, frank

Radiate as an epic live

And in return to know

The current extension is either brave

As the heat of this generous hand

My name drops like a silver star

Here on the prairie, where the eye wants to inspect

The entanglement of sensuality

With dazzling, spinning when geometry in

One or two ideas on the space which is aware

Patience knows the discerning attention

In the mind wanting to travel between arms

And the mind appears as a love potion

The forearm of dawn

Recreating the language of others

While the urgency of the hour

The echo of your voice at me strolls

But the creed of the latent humor

What is true for anxiety and amusement

Rises by fervor

Where is our imprecise ascension

I thought your hair

as sensitive petal

was very appealing

to me, invisible

and we had this focus

altar flowers

where you play

in this dream too grown

The quiet brilliance and

Incessant ecstasy

Embrace the look of this wave

Giving you my daughter

My infant dream

For your heart can walk

And I’m in physical time

Wanting to calm your smile my dear

On a nice cloud for you in praise

By the softness of this love

The elixir of pure reason strikes a kind of dazzled dance where the regular inner conflicts turn their essence by a good understanding of the puzzles of destination of a mind in time to stop over the realm of a bright eureka, like it would be our best random lucky day. That is our time to be inside true, takes time from time and in between the comprehension of what is not known, figures the engine of thinking as a the main ally of feelings in all the marathons on in each life as the certificate of unity by the correct use of History of the mind. Across the car crushes the mute pavement of death taken from the metallic emptiness of people who by vanity carry money as a private convoy of running into the trenches where people walk in with artificial make up of their hearts and the bums who stop in time to talk about beauty are in my hands as truly treasures and so much brave than any rock star under their paper stocks like Bono Vox the lead singer from the Irish band U2, that lead with others into the backyard of blindness and the consequent abuse from the passive land which has no voice to hold the knot from people who accept this kind of dark squad, a kind of decal from my voice across the myriad of ratio parcels in which the statistic of cooperation with reason appears in blank coldness. Then people chose to die in this way with visions of possession and forgetting History again and again and History is our own accomplish of truth with the purest perused mind taken hold of lucidity by work for all eras and maybe reason and poetry can breathe so that at least two or ten people can walk upon the sea with the spirit casted for centuries on which the joy ships the moon into walls of brightness.

An unfound stone somewhere in the seasonal memories from the evanescence of a faithless split that gets colder as the minutes drag our thoughts on the way to the infinite knowing that is time to go.

Alex went into the night with a sandy hand that by latter work of a cakewalk around the pavement when the eyes were circling from a girl at the window and she could not give me her love; she ran and gave her look into something secret like the exercise of wearing underwear for free, that is between lovers and the jokes that work as an attempt to fill up friendly feelings around our awakes all over the giving that we feel as part of us. But she was found as stone, meaning all sensible causes that are tuned into action from being sure of the destination of a body as the best living theatre to stay in when men and women are in and you can come too in the shade of a intimate feeling.

Wittgenstein asks one young man that was philosopher if he was happy and by anticipation he said, forget about philosophy. Me, when I was a little boy, I could make the sun appear, it was my magic bliss and today I dreamed what I have lost on my magic places and the people on which I was involved were a passage on my liveliness and curiosity for the world. I awoke in Campolide with noise as usual, I slept few and I wonder if all that is in my mind can have some magic consequences like innocence being taken care softly. I hate noise, I want to focus my attention on the skies like in elementary school because I was with myself, then people came to annoy my dream and what I have lost, it was my peace, that´s the conclusion about my life as a thinker.

If we spell a sort of little luxury on the very closeness of our thoughts, we can enter into the strategy of what is work at times when by social segregation or in a different level by social shyness, we reach a swinging sunny heart that holds each emotional condition and these escalating actions, have the subtle notion of what exists by the understanding of our realms and then we can move into the next breeze with friendly nucleus which like us, as we are, from rust into pure and just realms. Into trough the comprehension of time, there is rolling riddles to become clear like facing a social discrimination and with the well lined up vocation of opening things in the right way, belonging to the attitude of being involved with patience to everything, especially when the world wants to move to Mars and the body mind tensions migrate as refuges of non sense because our hard home travels at every eye contact and by the thought we understand the communication among the individual expectations when time fits to wonder himself about the distance between what is reasonable for a justice lover to set his time for one massive prevention of what could be the relaxation of the mind by work which fits perfectly in the human time for the body of reason and thinking of reasonable lyricism to have a proper profit because the sense of knowing is the half way to find the pure and timeless poetry.

In another place where the doing of memory brings time to the face and all seems so far away from the infancy, therefore a ghost of smile being the macabre prosecutor who dares to be the fool when he or she are asked about life and you can find these people in hotels, spending time with the taste for filth down where the dead man go and the skies cannot give the evidence of freedom because these hearts are broken by the non didactic work of the brain, so the talking has the calenture on the adult stage but the infancy smiles still. We got to work for some fair social trade along the landing of all balloons of our infancy either 99 or as decal of a new sweat that makes love around the trees with cherries and a soft lace in the playful time for the sake of a cosmic language and people can solve things because is good for the soul, believe me, dear Bárbara.

How do you think it feels, Bárbara?

It is painful to lead with my hypersensitiveness, is like being told about sins in the social nelson holds around my body. No one is around, here, just me talking to the mute walls and all rhymes are going into my solitaire work and so I cannot see the world like your daughter likes so much. Hope to see you in the street again even if you are afraid of my words at your home but you made me happy one day. I caress your way of being and I will keep observing your way of walking upon your soft echo across the streets of Lisbon.

The present discussion points the objects of induction where a concrete appearance answers carefully with credits to the love which is assumed with a striking decal from the rotation of future since we are all involved in what we feel as legible to the eye of poetry and reason. The difficulty is to paste everything into every beginning of reality in the input that a diversity of  characteristics of two or ten people that wear desire in a common share with access but the one to one approach reveals the lonely bridge with the differences without obtaining a true domain of the definitions in the apparent stolen property that can be taken as robbery of innocence and the work of reason has to name sensations in the sense of fight in order to gather the immediate feelings in means where a direct poetry exists to integrate the body of any nature.  

Under the daily squelches we might find a regular farewell from the abuse coming from foundations that survived with convoys of vanity and the annual look into the one love celebrates the vision that for now contradicts the one to one approach but it gives the vivid joy within this choice. To go for a drive before the collective kiss stars the compassion in the use of sympathy on which the curious kiss enables the solidary circles that allow the best defense of humans and the shining lives have much more to give and attract the new poets that walk and feel from the body of freedom; away from individual and collective and the conclusion is on the running vein that is on the way to the place where the soul can be found under the pure condition of life.

Copyright @ 2010 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved.

The geodesic dome reverberates around him in an axle that the vegetation around geometrizes as a voyeur browsing on the ruse of a war and someone cared by brave but in discretion, leaving into the sponsor of a clear meeting the engine that triggers a clear feeling to inspire the approach of a chemical kiss and that is a sensation with a taste for a ride into the day on the cracking will and leaving a well studied design as hard as a Beaver. Simone de Beauvoir was Castor (Portuguese word for Beaver) born on a January crack of 1908, on the 9th with the same digit that my classmate and friend from high school, Pedro Alexandre Barata that was born on the year of 1971 and was assassinated by the GNR, because he had no money, in the Fluvial Station of Barreiro, on March of 1989, was then 18 years. Barata was known as Tom Sawyer.

 A crease marks this runner with a strong driving force to return to his building, which by choice of thought as escort, accepts to travel with just one axis or reverberation that can build on a clairvoyance number to the force of the soul in its existential life flight and where under the banner of freedom, this soul could see others on the rush to their human vision of fear inside the economic alchemy illustrated by a rock flowing into an entrenched force of this kind of language at the heart of a emotional armor of the ego as luggage and so, I weave in front of them with a active rise and my availability stands quietly directed to this particular aspect of understanding.
This verb is chanting and posing into a peaceful transient more given to quiet lanes. I prepare the deck that holds the clip in this way, always in anticipation of what may take place in solemn trample into the warmth of a happy beginning and I must be cautious. A western rain is the shadow of a complex seasonal desire that begs for the pleasure into the sky with a towel over the rooftops and lauding this thought. He lives in a halo circling the last pause in the fervor of love, the flowers in its extension, the name embossed on a yellow ribbon and the more intact sense of sensibility who dares to hang for sympathy and smiling in memory of a known pleasure. Pouring of which renders the sum of the broth soft light, stimulating the state’s organic seed for a warm body of a hotbed of inspiration.

Mishima – A Life In Four Chapters
Directed by Barbet Scroeder
This film from 1970 it is the showcase of a mind that gives power for the national Japanese tradition. Mishima achieves his authority as a writer and in the army career. He is homosexual.
The actual anarchists have here a sign from a mind, not the tradition or the army, no, it is about going further taking an ideal with all pure means from the soul except the last act, suicide, to go with others, in the organization of people in action.
Should people be on their stomach pleasure with organic feelings lasting longer like the sleeping giant that seeds the world with hope and this giant takes pictures of us, he knows what we do, that´s why he must be fed in order to control the public sowing that goes into the chivalry of every clampdown and the consequent important task of independent thinkers taking the work and their faces to train the young believers which were born with a living soul so the little David can fight back the incoming of the fascist dream often told that the Nietzsche Übermensch was their inspiration but it was the philosopher´s sister the guilt person and no worse horrifying decay could come into the Europe at that time. That´s why to take someone´s thought has to include the lucidity of grace upon the time to think of what can be found inside the pureness on the thinker´s words. The world can live with words or without them, it´s up to us, to conceive inspiration from a society like the Bonobos for example; where sounds attract the solving conflicts by a free sexuality.

Copyright @ 2010 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved.

Nelson had the silent behaving laying in his thin agil vulture under the circumstances of saving the strange conducts of others, not totally strange but little dressed voices with lack of intelligence, so he thought by instinct not to answer to the public domain unless it would be necessary. His moving had the effect of a real spirit coming from a predicted epic journey, still on his mind as presence into the understanding where he could fit as a human in respect. He had a different frequency although his solemn thinking, reflect his stimulus that he caught from the oppression from the strange frequencies and all his mind was fighting to find at this distance the best answer to end up in a long relief, still he was just beginning to know humans.

When he knew humans and the out space, he wrote:

The language of the cosmos should be understood as a specific vivid source of fascinating forms of motions which lie on the punctual flowing of the thermodynamic margins of what exists in the Universe as energy. To reflect and go ahead step by step with the information transmitted under the heritage of looking for the mighty origin of what was found in long remarks of the mind as life processes related to the way where the factual truths are going in the tremendous nucleus of human consciousness.  Inside consciousness as she is observed with great activity as a frank outcome of the senses in action which are driving attitudes from the living organized forms produced by humans; mainly they are a birth from a union between the standing points of following gregarious instincts and the best realm of possessing the wealthy goods for many life´s moments in which we feel this as a natural language. The cosmos has a similar relation in this dialog and it is presented with an intense activity where the driving energy is moving with an organization of physical forms which exists with the same sense and that is equilibrium.

We can experience a fall down from a small rubber beach boat, we experience a difference of temperature, the body cries out rational or spontaneous ways of answering attitudes and the person is elapsing energy, extremely attached to the water in this case, which has her own vivid source of energy. The state of this event and all the living energies that interact between them, presents the life´s operational characteristics of understanding all differences of energy as an entire conscious with cosmic sense. The differences are kept in chase as a major motion by recognizing in its purest state, the cosmic quintessence of consciousness.

As ally of the outcome of the personal verve towards the life signs, concerns the acquiring importance of respect at the time of any relation; particles and atoms, sun and air, body and mind, heat and humidity, devote a natural way to inspire the best approach, if we think in the attraction and movement between elements and all life forms. Relations should be seen as work in any single difference that holds existence with the rational realm of harmony, its every one´s desire. Regularly some aspects come with tension and the related relaxation execution from it and it´s a unity to be attended, if we think in humans; nature has a more prolific system to attend pacts of self preservation. From what is known, the cosmos has a mighty endless energy that goes in every direction and is a distinct organization with no authority like humans that have the need into it with sadism tendencies.

The sense of going, proclaims all petals in the trenches where we can remind inside the perfumed view of contemplation, the informal approach to embrace the unpacked directions and to hold them as part of resistant patience trough all silent decisions that matter the consequent journey choices and their treasures that should be kept in the memory of the rolling body across the notifications of the mind. The union serves determination, we can decide alone, still we are a part of the whole design, because there is no natural law of how humans should live but how they should avoid death by feelings of great tension; in those times, the little secret place inside us can pull our inner voice into the recovering of the temperature of the human energy by turning her as affirmation of life, that is to accept and to understand every outcome of tension in our conscious by discharging the tensions with a systematical healing prevention method, performing the liberating meeting and then the margins of this kind of energy fluently floats. It’s a natural system. Systems ship a large vivacity when they had the proof of being capable to refine their ideas by taking part with the frequency of time upon their applications into the future gains of naturalism.

The perception of silence during the initial solitude portrait while we keep growing with the sowing seeds which are here, in the logic of a zillion stories inside the ear, in every memory sign of a visual sound of the things that are the clamour of understanding by a straight thought which acts with what we hear, feel, wish, dream, in the preparation for silence after it came and keeps coming as we are also our own star dust remedy.

To stand and have it all from the working walks in smooth spoken memories where cars take us with the landscape and we talk with ourselves.  The speed  of  thinking  is  higher  than  our  consciousness  and  these  invisible archipelagos which offer  images  of  fast  gestures  wherever  they  are  a screaming morality or they are a bite from a silent creature, both  are  the notion of being in  the  giant  family  called  brotherhood.  To live with changes among the growing thoughts, with the mighty star, the sun and all the sources of energy is natural. The sense of justice is like a little fountain who knows about the ones who bled and who were held to embrace the labour of a pair of spoken eyes into the waiting of the rolling mind for the right calm and fresh breeze to follow. And we don’t have to die before the new born infinite shining sound comes.

Copyright @ 2010 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved.

In the nucleus of a thought, lives calling questions, expressions of the deep infancy in the eye contact with human organized ideas around sexuality. What we know is not seen, we are in a perpetual response and there is a combination of every commencement with the fundamental electric discharge after a conceptual irony of the resignation from natural sources. This features who seat, read and conclude into transgressions as one warm decoration in human´s basis to create life. These are willing notes with all senses becoming silence in the twilight worries which people burn in the adversity to know when we can declare in the time instinct transition into satisfaction.
The mighty nudity in our ego collides with the best life feelings as they come from the ancient days of living with a leader which is a wrong assumption cause each of us intimately dare to win in what we are, if by the time of growing cold, we are also trying to have a way to sway from dismay and insert in the atmosphere the scientific knowledge of an awareness built in tempest but the truth in real exception would grow warm and free, to join the living by the regular work inside the splendor of the naked.
What casts the smile within the character is surely the taking hold of the sane approach in the diversity born from bliss, a liquid solution kissing thought and death would not be caught in the golden years of dismantling all modern truisms, going to assume now that the breathing time in action from the speech of a proclaimed energy from brave thinkers which had never really accepted what was established but had worked hard to feed the human race with meanings into a begin when men and women are in.
Faith and will stay like ice along the frozen coasts where the melting tears of a certain mystical hand which shake ideas in people to go through time from backwards till those waxing voices arrive in the days with a better piece of knowing that stands still in this common tale, is the subtitle of love in the native language of irritation, former aggressions stay tuned to obey but insurrection from the composition of this summary, is the love dropping like a stone, it flows as the wind blows and the correction of all changes lives to be in the portrait of consciousness .
Conflicts presented as barricades from the acculturation, the character structures and sensibility, have the energy to establish the outcome of every patch in one or fifteen ways, playing so much of us and then show what we are in a factual truth, either in public differences or personal ones. The social consequence of what is bright is important in the intervention on these fights. Not to damage but ponctually enhance the liberation of the individual away from the multitude of the jazzy fads and have a intense look into the consensus of the crowd with blossom appetite for a economic light that paces the future.
The best view in thinking and sexuality versus the actuality of citizens has to equal a fed organic pillar as value to purify science in the wide love as outcome of life, lived universally and felt that way with noble devotion to a generous working body, contemporary of the radical mind which crosses all ends by opening a new energy in the human quintessence being thought and felt.

Wittgenstein asks one young man that was philosopher if he was happy and by anticipation he said, forget about philosophy. Me, when I was a little boy, I could make the sun appear, it was my magic bliss and today I dreamed what I have lost on my magic places and the people on which I was involved were a passage on my liveliness and curiosity for the world. I awoke in Campolide with noise as usual, I slept few and I wonder if all that is in my mind can have some magic consequences like innocence being taken care softly. I hate noise, I want to focus my attention on the skies like in elementary school because I was with myself, then people came to annoy my dream and what I have lost, it was my peace, that´s the conclusion about my life as a thinker.

http://eduardoalexandrepinto.com/forum/

Beate Braun

“If you are diagnosed with schizophrenia, they talk with you like you are not there. They talk about you but not with you, but you have to hear it. But if you really want to talk, the doctors and nurses in the hospital don’t have time for a conversation.”
Contact info: Krefeld, Germany
Currently doing: Beate currently does secretarial work and previously was a graphic designer. She also enjoys riding horses and being with nature.
Mental health experience: Inpatient, Outpatient, Commitment, Psychiatric Drugs, Forced Treatment, Restraints
Psychiatric labels: Chronic Paranoid Schizophrenia
Psychiatric drugs taken in the past: Risperdal, other forced neuroleptics
Recovery methods: Self-Help, Peer Support, One-on-one Therapy, Exercise, Psychiatric Drugs, Social Activism, Spirituality, Meditation, Literature, Consumer-run Groups, Art/Music, Family/Friends
Brief History:
I’ve spent about ten years of my life in and out of psychiatric hospitals. I’ve been out for two years now, and I feel strongly that the hospital did me more harm than good.

When I was first labeled with chronic schizophrenia, I felt down, down, and once more down. The worst part of being in the hospital was probably the forced drugs. Two or three times a day the hospital staff would come with the needle and give me shots of strong drugs.

The drugs were so strong that I would bite my lips and fall to the ground. The forced drugs caused me to have these awful convulsions. When I would complain, the doctor told me that I was lying, I didn’t have convulsions, and wouldn’t do anything to help me. I felt so helpless.

If you are diagnosed with schizophrenia, they talk with you like you are not there. They talk about you but not with you, but you have to hear it. But if you really want to talk, the doctors and nurses in the hospital don’t have time for a conversation.

One of the sad things is, they couldn’t have done what they did to me without the state’s approval. They had to get approval from a judge to force these drugs on me.

Right now, my dose of Risperdal is not too much. I take care of myself by taking a tour with my bicycle for 20 kilometers a day. I take a walk with my dog, to hold the drugs as low as possible. I don’t drink or smoke, or take other drugs anymore either, which helps.

One thing that really helped me was never believing I was ill. I’m just a human being like everybody else.

As I get older, I’m becoming more interested in spirituality books and things, and having more fun at life. I paint oil pictures on canvas about mystic themes and I read about other artists.

I feel my social activism is just beginnning. I now read two books a month about organizing, etc. It’s good for my soul.
Year told: 2002

People live inside their living rooms where there is less energy and outside the fashionable feeling of belonging as legacy of stupidity seen like a historical mimesis of a well lined up social behavior in control of uniqueness.
Two or ten persons with high sensitive feelings can built on their defense to go inside the agressions from the standard moral in any ideology and work the chant of freedom in order to feel the outcome of their liveliness being embraced, which it is something beautiful. We may know our love well, it can be pansexual but it genuine and what it runs deep in the body. Is something unique that must be protected so that this little bird can organize his social organization and up on a tree, unseen and anonymous like the persons who prefer to be hidden from the corridors of the worldwide cruel horror, after their release from that agony. The pillars from autonomy should be worked considering the elements of uniqueness.

On the 22th October of 2009 I have suffered an racist attack in Poland, I was going in calm, to Bank Zachodni, at Przez Mierowo, Rinkowa, 75C in the city of Poznan, taking with me a paper explaining in the Polish language, that I wanted to open an bank account, because they don’t speak English in that country and the functionary refused to talk with me, her colleagues laughed and then came a fat man and attacked me. I called Polish Police and appeared the Special Polish Police full of lethal equipment thinking that I was a robber.

Against Polish racist acts, my great sorrow for what they are living as a catholic country and all the fake morality inside their traumatic society, my great anger but my road is solid and I will refuse to accept these twisted minds into my peaceful and human world by keep going on my work

For sensitive people the outside world has almost too many information’s for them, which wait for being overcome. These people sometimes can feel what other people may think, how they live, which needs they have, which consequences their live-style may have for others and for themselves and they take serious each bad and good vibration of their environment and sometimes they are able to discover the problems of others even in their dreams. This intuition is very good developed; they feel much stronger and faster than others, if danger is immanent. They never can feel good in a group of imbalanced people, but better in a peer-group of similar sensible persons. They feel bombed with emotions from all sides, because they notice the pains and happiness of others and want to take part in it. Finding likeminded people is their highest form of happiness, and gives them new power in life and love, in arts, music, and this helps them out of loneliness , like other people also get power, but not so conscious and intensive may be than hyper sensible people do. Hypersensitive Anarchists therefore try, to find likeminded people, to satisfy their own yearning (longing) to protect it better and at the same moment try to give support all those people, who suffer from the social situation which makes them harder and harder, so to give them some of their energy to be activated to discover some of their own often submerged sensible feelings again.

I met you José Saramago in June of 1997 in the Lisbon Annual Book Fair at the Park Edward VII. I took a plastic white chair and sat near you. We were together for one hour in calm until I went way in the urge of my own things. Few people stopped by and on the following year I could not seat near you and so on.

You fought against almost Portugal as I am my doing now and one thing somehow in common that is the relation with Cavaco Silva, I was arrested by his government of the 15^th September of 1987 and you could never accept his sick realm which continues.

Hope that you understand that I don´t accept communism although we could be together, I am a proud Anarchist and if Bakunine was expelled by Marx on the 2^nd International, our movement is stronger and more than right. We have many good allies as inspiration like The American College of Orgonomy, The Wilhelm Reich Infant Trust Museum, Noam Chomsky, Penny Rimbaud, The Anarchist Commune AKKAK, The Alexander Lowen Foundation, some organizations like Indymedia as well of millions of sympathizers who wonder for what I called the sempiternal pansexuality, in one of my books.

Dear Pilar, the fight continues; remember your love for José which is the mighty ocean, more than any ideal.

The Best,

Eduardo Alexandre Pinto

Perdóname José y Pilar por escribir en inglés más hay una interdicción en Portugal con mis ideas

Dear Professor Stephen Hawking,
I am Eduardo Alexandre Pinto, a Portuguese Poet, Writer, Anarchist, Philosopher, Translator.
I have Panic Disorder with Agoraphobia since 1999, in the summer of 2008; I have travelled with little money into Germany and could over cross my phobias. The next year, I was 5 months in Poland, living with a Polish woman which is Philologist in Poznan. Then due to ideal differences I went away and travelled in Germany, Holland, France and Spain for two weeks returning into Portugal to see my mother.
I live in the center of Lisbon in a small apartment away from social life as a choice and not due to my anxiety problem, mainly because I am very generous socially and the people which crossed my life abused from my good will and so I chose to have nothing more than few human contacts till my own human rights are determined and that is uniqueness.
I would like Professor that you would give your opinion to my work, in order to the continuity of the philosophical system I created based on my thoughts, my deepest origin, since I have 39 years now and I am worried about the future of the work of independent thinkers and the readers profits with bright consequences into the social wealth.
You can see my work here, www.eduardoalexandrepinto.com
I wish you the best strategy to keep your work which is of great importance to the understanding of life.
I have heard some speeches from you, read and watched on line because I cannot afford to buy your books. With great respect for your researching achievements, I wish you the best realm into your body and mind, to the continuity of your identity as a prolific sowing seed.
The Best,
Eduardo Alexandre Pinto      (Mon, Jun 7, 2010 at 1:23 AM)

Dear Professor,  
I have now 39 years old, two years ago, I wrote you at the time of the death of your wife, Carol that you gently replied with a great strength from your spirit as you could at that year and situation, motivated me into my own difficult conditions.
I still live in Lisbon, after spending some time at the most old Anarchist Commune in Europe, in the summer of 2008.
In 2009, I tried my best in a relation with a woman, a Polish Philologist, where I spent 5 months in Poznan.
I have travelled in Germany, Holland, France and Spain, after departing from Poland, to see my mother, here in Portugal.
I could develop my philosophical system being published in English with the solid pillar of the thinking operations of my idiosyncrasy.
You can have a look at my political and literary work at, www.eduardoalexandrepinto.com  and in your time, give your opinion.
I would like to ask you, how things are going on your work and the continuity of your ethic relation in social affairs on your sharpened political bone and what would you advice to me, in order to continue my philosophical system being a self didactic and with few incomings, in order to present to the world the best life feeling based on the thought, my deep origin.
I wish you good and pleasant moments with your family and friends as well as your readers and others.
The Best,
 
Eduardo Alexandre Pinto

Chomsky Replies:

Thanks for the update, and also the link.  I will try to get to it, but am so overwhelmed by materials to read that I cannot honestly say when.  I am continuing on much the same paths as before: constant travel, speaking, writing, interviews, etc.  Just back from several weeks in the mideast and Paris, on tomorrow to the next.
 
Noam Chomsky

Eduardo Alexandre Pinto

http://www.actlab.utexas.edu/~hahmad/bions.htm

Aldous Huxley in a speech given to Berkley in which he admits that dystopic novels “Brave New World” and “1984″ were not just fiction, but blueprints for two types of controlled and enslaved societies.

“The prophetic Aldous Huxley, author of Brave New World, speaks to an audience at University of California, Berkeley, surrounding the use of terrorism and pharmaceuticals to create willing slaves out of the population.”

– Aldous Huxley

“And it seems to me perfectly in the cards that there will be within the next generation or so a pharmacological method of making people love their servitude, and producing ⦠a kind of painless concentration camp for entire societies, so that people will in fact have their liberties taken away from them but will rather enjoy it, because they will be distracted from any desire to rebel by propaganda, brainwashing, or brainwashing enhanced by pharmacological methods.”

– Aldous Huxley

http://www.archive.org/details/AldousHuxley-TheUltimateRevolution

http://vimeo.com/4291975

My project deals with difficult situations among the ponctual differences inside the actual world´s social paths. In the fight to present my philosophical system which is being felt as castration of my lifeliness by a great outcome of social ignorance and fear to change, to go ahead into the natural cosmic conscious.

Therefore, my work as an independent researcher needs support to maintain what was presented and every one can read my work on line or to order my books > http://eduardoalexandrepinto.com/published-books/ to continue the aspiring sense for love as an Sempiternal Pansexuality, being legible as the pure relation with all life forms.

Thank you

Paypal adress, donations@eduardoalexandrepinto.com

Copyright @ 2009 Lambert Academic Publishing AG & Co. KG and licensors. All rights reserved

The gentle journey from Marie Soula into my soul

Slowly the night ends and down at the 7/11 I gave him his best breakfast in the life of he, cause he sang no confusion, the expression was found so free along his way away from me and I keep going making the day an event of good feelings even if she was scared by the things that freak her out by those days, so a lovely invitation came and I went with her to feel her way of exposing her mind, she was blonde I was shy, it was all ok, we went back to work, it was a weekday and all the people were passing and later on I met a parisien young woman that was lost in her heart and now it was me who made the invitation to cross The Tagus by boat, I was looking at her eyes so sad with the wind blowing on her, then we got there on the other side, bought some cherries, looked at the city and talked about what could it be poetry if the refrain could be changed in both hearts and the transmission was settled for the way back to Lisbon. We were touching the distance of what it was a smooth melody, but it was not it was too tough for both, even then, we walked and took coffe to run from our bloody dreams and arrived to the Park, seat and no more routine was more than a memory. A long love song was taught and she felt good, I told her that for some time that love could be like the mighty ocean, when it was warm it would be it. And because she came along and I came with a song, we almost were the same mirror with a naked joy in both natures, then the journey end it up in a farewell kiss that fell from a gentle goodbye untill now since the year of 2000, dear Marie Soula.

Campolide personalities in my memories, Paula Castro and Rui Pedro

Behind your hair that felt, there was a nowhere tissue that was your candy statement in your dancing teaching and you had passs by me always with a certain balance altough you had no reasons to smile. I remember when you came from California, I was hanging in your street, saw you and opened the cab’s door, then you went home, where there was a small toy that danced and you know it was the postman for whom I did ask to see where you lived, now that your forever gone, Paula Castro. Thank you for being always nice for me, Saudades…
Every word of you, dear Rui Pedro, was pure wisdom, you used to talk in a coloquial way on your way to the cinema or coming back from it. You studied many issues, from death you had no fear and all alone reading and thinking, you made your life between 2000 and 2006. You helped me and others, several times with your good heart. When I was seatened on my stairs to watch the people passing I always waited for you, to have a coin that you never have denied. Your last words at the hospital as I was visiting you, were:’ i am thirsty, they don’t give me water in here…’. Your dog, Joy, died this year and your brother is spending all your money in stupid things. I keep going like when we become friends in Campolide, at the Rua General Taborda. Thank you for all, Rui Hélder Miranda Pedro, Saudades…

Tanya in Lisbon

I met Tanya from Valparaiso in Chile in 2000. I was somehow with me on the streets of ‘Bairro Alto’ and asked for something into this girl. We talked for some time and then i took her to the ‘Miradouro de Santa Catarina’ where we could see the Tagus. We talked for one hour and then we were going to her cheap motel, that we call ‘Pensão’ and i felt very anxious but i had time to salute the good bohemian psichology teacher Branco Vasco, he with his class all drunk. I had some sugar on my pocket but no water, so I asked Tanya if I could drink up at the Pensão. She asked the guy and i could go up. Got there and with the water and sugar I could have some small relax from the tension and layed upon the bed of the room. She layed too, we kept talking and in front it was the office of the sports newspaper ‘ Record’ which was covering the Euro-2000; from the window we could see the guys typing and then we hugged and kissed, there was nothing inside us than water and the heat was making us horny and we took the clothes and made sex and it felt good, I must say. I spent one week sleeping on this ‘Pensão’, where in my youth I used to go for having fun, had never slept there, in the street I did. We ate in the same chinese restaurant and I was asking for the same plate on every meal event. She came into my house and met Sebastião and Marina, friends from my generation. One thing in my house in that year of 2000, was that I had a invasion of flees so we were scratching all the time and her legs were the red spot place from her latin blood, I was used (with a medicine that my vet cousin gave me to spread for the house, to get rid of the flees, after 3 years i had none). So she started to make her travel around the world in Lisbon and she was a tender woman, intelligent and with a bright determination. The fact that she was a jew, meant nothing. One sunny day we cross the Tagus by boat, sat on the other side, watching the white city and eating cherries. Then she had to go for her next country, France. There was the semi-final bewteen Portugal and France on the same day, I was anxious but not feeeling some urgency,a bit nervous about the game. We went to the bus station in ‘Arco do Cego’, we talked and said goodbye. Then I run after a farewell so long on my hand till she and the bus were gone, into the nearest place with a tv, I got just at the moment that the refferie signed an unfair penalty against Portugal, Zidane scored and Portugal was out. Out of her things a diary that she forgot, with a green cover that I kept on my wooden box of written memories.