Friends

You feel a bit sad when you leave all your friends behind, you really miss them. You are in a new city, and even if u didn’t call them before, at least you knew they were there, and you could call them if you felt like. Now you don’t have this feeling anymore, and all of a sudden you fell like calling the most random friend ever, or your best friend…but you can’t anymore.
One fell a bit sad when one friend of your leaves. You do feel sad, if he was at least a good friend of yours. Your friend is not there anymore when you feel like calling him/her. Even if it was a very rare calling, but even that rare calling can't happen anymore.
But then, it was one friend, not all your friends.
It’s hard to leave all your friends behind.
It’s good to make new friends. But it’s hard to leave all your friends behind.
Keep in touch!

Zaratustra

INSIDE OUTSIDE

The lonely always thinks there is too many people around him.
O solitário sempre acha que tem muitas pessoas ao seu redor.

OUTSIDE INSIDE

We still work becuase the work distracts us. However be aware so that the distraction does not become into tiredness.
Trabalha-se ainda porque o trabalho distrai. Mas toma-se cuidados para que a distração não se transforme em cansaço.

INSIDE OUTSIDE

I just love those who know how to live in a state of decline because these are the ones who reach the high and beyond.
Eu só amo aqueles que sabem viver em estado de declínio porque são esses que chegam ao alto e além.

OUTSIDE INSIDE

I love the one who loves his virtue because the virtue is will of decline and an arrow of desire.
Amo aquele que ama sua virtude porque a virtude é vontade de declínio e uma flecha do desejo.

INSIDE OUTSIDE

- Who comes to my house to disturb my weak sleep?
- An alive and a dead man – answered Zaratustra. Give me something to eat and to drink. I have not thought about that all day long. The one who gives something to eat to the starving man reconforts his own soul. Says the wisdom.
The old man came back and offered bread and wine to Zaratustra. – But also invite your companion to eat and drink. He is more tired than you.
- My companion is dead. It would not be easy to convince him to eat.
The old man grounched : - I have nothing to do with that. The one who knocks on my door must receive what I offer. Eat and invigorate yourselves.
-Quem chega a minha casa para pertubar meu fraco sono?
- Um vivo e um morto – respondeu Zaratustra. Dá-me de comer e de beber. Não pensei nisso durante o dia. Quem dá de comer ao faminto reconforta sua própria alma. Assim fala a sabedoria.
O velho se retirou, mas logo retornou e ofereceu a Zaratustra pão e vinho. – Mas convida também teu companheiro para comer e beber. Ele está mais cansado que tu
- Meu companheiro está morto. Não seria fácil convencê-lo a comer.
O velho resmungou: - Nada tenho a ver com isto. Aquele que bate a minha porta deve receber o que lhe ofereço. Comei e revigorai-vos!

the opposite action

Freeze dont change, dont move, dont leave, just Freeze!

Few Languages

Sorte Azar Sorte Azar
Suerte Mala suerte Suerte Mala suerte
No seas tan profundo, be as shallow as you can be
No seas personal, be generic
Salir a los boliches! Shallow or deep subject?
No importa. It doesnt fucking matter.

Dont take your time
You dont have enough time to waste to take your time
Use your finger
Type
Faster
Faster slowboy!!

NOW stop

Think

Stop thinking stupidboy
It was to be as shallow as you could reach
The bottom
The rat
The sewer

Estas mejorando rapidamente, pero podés pensar um ratito más, no seas peresoso,
Las lenguas todas juntas me confunden
Una por vez por favor

Dont change it
Could you think properly if you forgot Portuguese?
Could you think properly if you forgot Danish?
People
Pueblo
Povo
Danes
Swedens
Frenchs
Argentinos
Spanish
Irish
Not necessarily in this order
Povo
Pueblo
People

Extranjeros....

Quantos existen?

Sartre - Camus - Tolstói - Borges

Nausea
The first and only book of Jean-Paul Sartre I read. For some random reasons some French authors, like Sartre (in English) and Camus (in Portuguese), started showing up on my hands, accidentally. It definitely gives you a nausea sensation as you carry on reading it, mainly in the parts that he describes the sensation of a Nausea, when he is in any ordinary random situation, it can be everywhere, on any corner of the city, or in the most common bar, or when you are by the most uninteresting person, it will come, and you will not know how to get rid of that Nausea.
I did not enjoy the reading of the book since the very beginning, it took me almost a hundred pages to start finding out that this book of Sartre is not a simple diary. My feeling in the beginning was that I could have written a diary like that one, so why in hell is this man so known? I confess, I was too stuck up, however I recovered myself, although I am not a big fan yes.
Do not miss the parts when he describes the word of the title. The Nausea feeling does not appear very often in it.

Ana Karênina
I fell in love with Tolstói since the very first pages. The reason that I bought these two tick books in a very beautiful brochure was because his was mentioned in another book that I was reading (L’insostenibile leggereza dell’essere – Milan Kundera – Czech writer), and this book is sucha a beautiful one that I got so curious about Ana Karênina, and besides loving Tolstói, I could find so many similarities on the two books, and happily could understand why Tolstói was mentioned by Kundera.
On the book of Kundera it is more obvious what he wants to say, he tries to explain that it is impossible to deny the love to more than one person, the different sorts of love that all human being have to be allowed to feel, the sexual attraction by other women does not mean the loss of the sexual attraction by his beloved wife.
On the other hand, the character of Tolstói is already a bit older, and there is no more sexual attraction by his wife, but the love is still there.
The point is that every ‘unusual’ literature from cultures that we are not used to read, always appeals to us. Russian in this case, I have already enjoyed a lot some Japanese romances, not to say the Middle East, China, Thailand, East Europe and so on…open your mind and let it flow.

French Literature
In French, not necessarily by a French author.
I have been reading a couple of books in the French language, because of the obvious reason of learning the language, and I have been understanding half of them. In the beginning it was 30 %, that is why I keep reading, and that is why reading in a foreigner language gives me such a pleasure, because of the two feelings of learning a language and the book itself.
The books are: Cholera (a text in it of Sénèque – De la colère - gave me some inspiration to write a poem, a bad one by the way, with the same name), Outrage aux moeur et autres nouvelles ( a book of four short texts that I could not understand any ), Jorge Luis Borges – Fictions -, I can understand most of his short texts, but as I have never been very fond of him, I should keep on reading him in his own language. And finally the Gammaire Expliquée du Français, wonderful reading and 100% understood.

The Plague – A Peste
First difficulty that I faced to write about this book was the name, as it has been read in Portuguese. Google helped me.
And as I begin it, I start finding out that the best writer is the one who describes well. Kafka, Tolstói, George Orwel, and finally Nausea! Albert Camus describes perfectly the start of a plague in a society that has to be closed from all the outsiders. And he writes as it happens, as it was a diary, and that is what I did not know how to appreciate in Nausea of Sartre, just because he was writing down the date and periode of the day as the things were happening and he was writing. In ‘The Plague’ Camus does the same but without writing the time at the top of the chapter. That is just a detail that does not really matter, as what matter is the writing itself.
He depicts the whole process, since the beginning of a plague in a small city, with all the different psychological matters that each person faces, the ones who love, the ones who do not love, the ones who had come there just for a week of a work…Worth reading for those who wants to know how a government for the people has to be tough in some risky cases, and the ones who enjoy romances. romances?

Melons & Papayas' explanation.

me:
‘melons and papayas’ is me incarnating mario quintana
he writes lots of funny things

the friend:
he is a genious
and also studied in our school
heheheh

me:
look, one point for us

the friend:
sure…heheh
it seems that he is gay too
heheheh

me:
it’s a pity that I didn’t enjoy very much the subject of literature in the school
he probably shouldn’t enjoy literature in the school

the friend:
and I didn’t know what I really liked…..heheh

me:
you are you
and i
already knew
but I didn’t know that I liked literature

Melons & Papayas

I hate melons and papayas
For a week or two
I decided to have a piece of them every day
To see if I could change my mind
And start liking something
That wasn’t good before
Now I can eat melons and papayas
My taste got used to them
If I have melons and papayas on one side
And mangos and bananas on another side
I still go for mangos and bananas
What has changed?

Inspired by a papaya.

Routine

I and my friend wake up at about midday or later, after having woken up a coupe of times, have felt hungry but have not got up from the bed because we were too lazy to eat the déjeuner.
At last I make my way to the refrigerator where I take a small pot of yogurt, throw some cereal into it – take my midday antibiotic - and start eating it while we finish the French movie we started watching last night.
After an hour, with some interruptions of some ‘friends’ on the msn and some problems with the DVD of the computer, we finish the movie – most of the time satisfied - , and starving go to the kitchen to fast warn the plat of food in the microwave, eat it contently.
Go to the computer pretending to look for someone nice to chat, but actually just want anyone to chat. Take our time to see some porn on internet.
Mid afternoon is time for us to take some puff of the little joint, enough to feel like taking a walk, to do any made up appointment, to pretend that we have at least something important to do
Look around and around and around, thinking what we should really do – we are enjoying a high moment -, and then make a move. Grab the long black and blue short, a light colour tee shirt, the grey running shoes with low socks, the fake and light Adidas black cap, we always decide to take the walkman, even knowing that the cheap earplugs have a horrible sound, the also fake and half-broken sunglasses (Adidas as by coincidence), spread the sun block all over the face and the exposed parts of the body and finally leave, all hidden and incommunicable.
After an hour or two we are back.
We make some healthy thing to have in our snack and prepare ourselves to go running, even though we are not very sure about that yet. We do some push-ups and similar exercises, not too much - we think we are already hot enough -, we run for almost an hour and fuck up with all our knees just once more, one day-break will be enough to half heal them.
We eat as elephants, a healthy and heavy dinner.
We Watch the Italian channel. The Spanish channel. The American channel. The British channel. And mostly the French channel, asking ourselves why in hell they can’t add the subtitles in all the programs.
Computer again. We once more pretend to do something important, and pretend to talk to important people, - Porn again on internet? Most of the days we skip this second round. - and send some cv’s, and send some emails, and talk to some future friends. We write some sentences or, on the lucky days, texts that we are not very sure about their validity or quality.
We get a small pot of yogurt, pour some honey into it and watch half of any French movie; luckily we have some with French subtitles.
That’s my lonely routine.