"He arrived home at 3am. It was Friday night and, as usual, he had gone to a disco with some friends. He was feeling tired and, now that the alcohol’s effect had worn off, the feeling of frustration was taking over again. He still couldn’t believe his girlfriend had broken up with him that morning. They had been together for three years and now everything was over! He went directly to his bedroom, intending to get some sleep…but couldn’t. The fragrance of her perfume was still on the room or…maybe it was just his imagination. He glanced at her picture, but…no! He had to go somewhere else. That bedroom was full of her.
He poured a drink and lit a cigarette on his way to the living-room. The bottle of Cutty Sark his brother offered last Christmas was almost empty. Tomorrow he would go to a liquor store nearby to buy another one…maybe two... He sat down on the sofa, turned the TV on and zapped through the channels. Nothing interesting was on, so MTV seemed to be the best option. The glass of whisky kept his attention while some more moments spent with her went through his mind: the day he met her, the night they first kissed…he had to stop thinking about her! The cigarette was finished, so he lit another one. It kept him calm and relaxed. In the mean time, he swallowed some more drink. The drink slowly took the edge of his sadness.
The phone rang. Who could it be at that hour? He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but…it could be her! He decided to get up and walk toward it. That phone ring was so annoying! The nervousness was consuming him while approaching the phone. He picked it up…a familiar voice on the other side… his mother worried because he didn’t call as he used to do every day. She had called time and time again that evening. He said he was sorry, but had completely forgotten. Actually, could he go sleep at mum and dad’s? Because he was feeling very lonely. His mother agreed immediately. He put a coat on and grabbed the car keys.
He opened the door and closed it violently. After locking it up, entered the car, turned on the radio and looked for the hardest music he could find. He stepped on the accelerator and arrived at his parents’ in five minutes. No one better than his mother to comfort him on a moment like that."

This is a composition I wrote in British Council about 5 years ago. This weekend, while cleaning, I found them.
I decided to transcribe them to the computer, so that I don't lose it. I'll also post some here.

Cai neve em Leuven

será que faz sol no meu país?
hoje à tarde saberei: a caminho de Lisboa!

Pictures of Belgium green landscapes

Beautiful, humm? These pictures were taken a couple of months ago, during Autumn. These landscapes are typical of Belgium and I love it. Finally, after two years living here, I have some nice pictures.

Cemitério de Pianos

Li, gostei e aconselho. Não é uma obra prima, mas é um livro do José Luís Peixoto. E só por isso vale a pena: porque no meio da narrativa, detenho-me em frases que me fazem pensar duas vezes; porque aprecio a poesia por entre a prosa.

"Os meus pés deslizaram pelo chão de mosaicos, o meu corpo atravessou os corredores de paredes cinzentas e de lâmpadas quase fundidas, intermitentes, a falharem. Os meus olhos não viam nada. E entrei no quarto. De uma vez: a minha mulher deitada na cama a segurar o nosso Francisco nos braços. A sorrir com a vida. Caminhei mudo e lento até à cama. Não soube dizer nada. Mais tarde, haveria de dizer que, logo ali, tinha percebido tudo aquilo de que ele seria capaz. Mais tarde, haveria de dizer tantas coisas. Naquele momento, não soube dizer nada. Toquei a face do menino com as pontas dos dedos. Toquei a testa da minha mulher com os lábios. O tempo não existia."

" A verdade, como o silêncio, existe apenas onde não estou. O silêncio existe por trás das palavras que se animam no meu interior, que se combatem, se destroem e que, nessa luta, abrem rasgões de sangue dentro de mim. Quando penso, o silêncio existe apenas fora daquilo que penso......"

Francisco Lázaro, o maratonista português que morreu nos Jogos Olímpicos, é uma das personagens deste livro. Mas, na minha opinião, é o cemitério de pianos e a fascinação por pianos de toda a família Lázaro, que trazem outra cor a este livro; e claro, a escrita sempre perfeita de José Luís Peixoto.

A verdadeira "Perfeita Anormal"

You Are 45% Normal

While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

Comecei com 50%, hoje já vai em 45%....qdo chegar a 0%, aviso. :-)

Assim talvez não....

Sabiam que....

Life is beautiful

with paintings like this

("The Turkish cafe, August Macke", Lenbachhaus, Munich)

in places like this

with people like him, her and "o amigo brasileiro concentrado". :-)

Tomorrow and Friday:in Munich.

Saturday and Sunday:

skiing here (Austrian Alpes).

To be remebered

Some days, you never forget. Today is one of those days: it will stay in my memory as one of the best I had in Belgium. The people I work with are truly fantastic. I will miss them when I leave.

Summary of the team-building day:
- canoeing (not cannoying) :-)
- children's games
- bowling
- karaoking
- eating
- drinking

Lately...

...I need to listen to this song everyday. Great song!

(Un)discovered

After listening to You give me something and Wonderful World on the radio, I was very curious about listening to the rest of the CD Undiscovered. I was a bit reluctant to buying it, as I only knew these two songs. But after a long time wandering around in FNAC today, I made up my mind (Damien Rice's new album was my first choice, but apparently it's not out around here yet).
So, I finally discovered the rest of the CD and I can say that I was very positively surprised by its content. I love his unique music style and his voice! I wouldn't call it soul, jazz, pop or rock; but he gives me something in between these styles. And I like it a lot!

And aren't these lyrics beautiful?

"And I know that it's a wonderful world
But I can't feel it right now,
I thought I was doing well but I just want to cry now,
Well I know that its a wonderful world from the sky down to the sea,
but I can only see it when you're here, here with me."
(James Morrison, Wonderful World)

E já que andamos numa de blogthings

You Are 16% Spoiled

You are definitely not spoiled. You've worked hard for what you have. Down to earth and grounded, you don't need a lot to make you happy.

Are You Spoiled?

Good song, great lyrics

Me, according to the celtic horoscope

Like my cousin Manuel, I tried this. And here's the result. You Are A Fig Tree

You are very independent and strong minded. A hard worker when you want to be, you play hard too. You are honest and loyal. You hate contradiction or arguments. You love life, and you live for your friends, children, and animals. A great sense of humor, artistic talent, and intelligence are all gifts you possess.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

Whether it's true or not, it made me feel good. :-)

Quando as notícias nos tocam

"A emigração voltou a constituir o único plano de vida de muitos jovens portugueses.", Joao Paulo Guerra, 8-1-2007

Eu e muitos dos meus primos e amigos assinamos por baixo....

A minha nova profissão:

Procurar casas a 2000 km de distância para nas próximas idas a PT passar os dias a fazer visitas. Giro....muito giro.
Andamos nisto há 3 meses. Já vi de tudo: imóveis "com espectacular vista mar", imóveis "com alguma vista mar", imóveis "em excelente estado de conservação", imóveis "com boas áreas", imóveis "muito soalheiros", imóveis "oportunidade", imóveis "com excelentes acabamentos", imóveis "totalmente renovados", "parcialmente renovados", "novos a estrear" .....enfim...já conseguia vender umas casinhas com o que tenho aprendido ultimamente...ou pelo menos já apanhei este palavreado e esta linguagem tão própria dos mediadores imobiliários.
A busca pela casa perfeita - e que seja acessível ao meu bolso - é viciante. A ciência é que sofre, porque ele há dias - que os há - em que passa para segundo plano (como hoje, por exemplo).

De volta

ao frio, à chuva, ao meu sotão, à bicicleta, ao trabalho, ao computador, aos posts, à solidão, à natação, à leitura, à falta de televisão (custa um pouco, depois de 2 semanas com ela).... enfim, de volta à vida real. Pelo menos por enquanto e até ao Verão, esta continua a ser a minha rotina.

Do balanço de 2 semanas em Lisboa, ficam:
- o nascimento de mais um sobrinho emprestado, o Martim (que é lindo!);
- a tentativa frustrada de comprar casa - ainda nao foi desta... :-( ;
- um Natal excelente, com os meus queridos sobrinhos lindos a animar a festa;
- presentes a dobrar, como é costume nesta época do ano (ou não tivessem os meus pais decidido fazer-me nascer uma semana antes do Natal): muitos Cd's (para a musicholic...), roupa e uma Bicicleta (!!!!) para me passear pelas ruas de Oeiras;
- uma passagem de ano caseira, mas muito divertida;
- muita, mas mesmo muita preguiça - apanho-me na casinha de mamãe e só me apetece dormir :-);

Fica a saudade do tempo em que vivia no meu Portugalito. O que vale é que o tempo passa a correr e o regresso espera-se para breve.