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Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 13h

Only on Saturdays?lol

Reactor Magazine @reactorsff.bsky.social · 3d

“Adapting a book is like marrying a widow. You have to respect the late husband, but on Saturdays, you are allowed to get it on.”

Guillermo del Toro discusses Frankenstein and his torrid affair with the Gothic:

reactormag.com/guillermo-de...

Guillermo del Toro Compares Adapting Mary Shelley's Frankenstein to "Marrying a Widow" - Reactor

Director Guillermo del Toro offers a unique perspective on the challenges of staying true to Mary Shelley's novel.

reactormag.com

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Os sinos dobram por quem?
Pelos mortos
Pelos vivos
Por quem??
Blémmmmmmmmmm

Os sinos dobram por quem?
Que estranha conversa
entabulam
nessa estranha ressonância?
Blémmmmmmmmmmmm

— End of Entry —

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Os sinos dobram por quem?
Se não chamam por mim,
por que ainda os ouço tilintar?
Perdidos... perdidos... perdida...
Blémmmmmmmmmm

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Os sinos dobram por quem?
Sinos de cristal...
Sinos de bronze
Sinos de luar...
Blémmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Os sinos dobram por quem?
Perdidos na imensidão...
Não chamam por mim
embora eu me reconheça em seu badalar.
Blémmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Pela posição do seu badalo, o sino evoca a posição de tudo que está suspenso entre o céu e a terra e, por isso mesmo, estabelece uma comunicação entre os dois.
(Dicionário de Símbolos — Chevalier, Jean & Gheebrant, Alain)

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

It was impossible for me to go live yesterday because reality, my love, is far worse.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

There they were — two women from the region that would now be called Palestine — watching their people being erased from the face of the earth, their rituals and bodies profaned in the name of the desires of a distant empire that justifies its atrocities with feeble faith.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

The first chapter told the story of the red-haired twins — that first part where they draw the attention of Akasha and Enkil’s empire, a supposed representation of ancient Egypt before it was Egypt, but really a mix of Egyptology and pure fantasy.

And as I read, I grew depressed.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

Public Confession (Restricted)
Logbook of Insanity No. 20 — Entry: Night
Tone: Unquiet · Voice: First Person
I was reading The Queen of the Damned.
It was a live session.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 19h

bemditorosa.blogspot.com/2025/10/publ...

Bem Dito Rosa

Public Confession (Restricted) Logbook of Insanity No. 20 — Entry: Night Tone: Unquiet · Voice: First Person I was reading The ...

bemditorosa.blogspot.com

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

bemditorosa.blogspot.com/2025/10/conf...

Bem Dito Rosa

Confissão Pública (Restrita): Diário de Loucura nº 19 — Versão Bilíngue Confissão Pública (Re...

bemditorosa.blogspot.com

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

I died in your eyes one idle afternoon.
I kissed your smile the darkness devoured.
It shattered.

Shards of laughter chime through the corners,
kept in the empty antechamber.

The light splashes on me,
painting discordant shadows,
laced poems on bare skin.

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

You smiled inside the mirrors,
reversed and weary.
You glimpsed futures, useless visions.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

The moon slipped slowly
and arrived when you were sleeping,
lost and collapsed in the falling night.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Behind time — time that came,
time that went without ever being.
Of this endless chance.

We closed our mute eyes.
We fled from the light.
We dodged the dark.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

To distract your eyes on some idle afternoon.
To open your smile that the darkness devoured.
Shards of laughter fell from the bed,
clinking through the corners, tearing the diaphanous skin.
And the light splashes around,
painting laced patches on bare skin.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

The moon slipped slowly
and arrived while I slept,
and collapsed into the night that fell inside the mirrors,
reversed and tired of the futures it half-glimpsed.
Useless visions.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Behind time — time that came,
time that went without ever being.
Days and days weary of this endless afternoon,
of this endless chance.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

No one saw the quantum leap.
The Earth kept turning.

When I reached that sunset, by chance,
it was almost night.
Magenta clouds dragging along.
So many! Immense!

1 1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

So, without meaning to, almost night.
Magenta clouds drag sleepless eyes.
And I ran, clumsy, fell,
tripped on the laced dress of promises.
I wanted to fly, to swim.
It was so late. Or so early.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Giant squids, crickets, fireflies,
butterflies obsessed with their boxes and fittings.
I hold my breath between the lines
and struggle to blow away the fog.
I did nothing, and already today is yesterday.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Right at that hour they call magic:
to open wings, hoist sails, let go the ballast.
To pretend to be something from another world, another way.
To turn nights into days, sunsets into dawn.
To calm storms.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Public Confession (Restricted): Logbook of Insanity No. 19

By chance, I walk close to that abyss.
Chasing the reason
of a crooked wind,
of a breath on my neck.

1

Rosângela Cardoso @rosacardoso.bsky.social · 2d

Eu vi a antiga. Essa nova versão é ruim e racista.
A Débora é uma ótima atriz, mas a novela era ruim.