My Own Little Tunes' World

My Travel Writing Attempt

2011-01-18T21:38:00.001Z

One day, not that far away, I tried to be a travel writer. In the adequate workshop I was enrolled, stuffed with these great people with whom I shared this event, we were proposed to do our best in writing about a common and fomented experience in Lisbon during one of the days. The common part just reflects the fact that a bunch of creatures all at the same time were consuming Lisbon piece by piece in a street near you. This collection of portions of the city allowed a scathing competition in eloquence, pushed by the appetizing prize of being edited in a travels magazine. To my fellow Portuguese, only because I wrote it in my mother language… ok, and also for those who understand Portuguese, I present my failed attempt…

Tasca 28

Domingo, quatro da tarde, chove a espaços na praça D. João Bosco, refugio-me parcialmente naquela que é a primeira (ou última, entenda-se) paragem do velho eléctrico de Lisboa, o 28, e aguardo-o. Ele surge, pode dizer-se "barulhento", mas naquela sonoridade agradável de rolar sobre carris que consegue entender-se como quase aconchegante. Chega perto. Uma velhinha apressada a passos curtos quer ser a primeira. Quer o lugar sentado que ainda agora se tornara livre pela saída de uma velhinha de semelhante idade. Consegue. Agora sou em quem entra no mundo do eléctrico 28. Cá dentro, do mundo, os cabelos brancos pertencem a quem é local e não mais faz do que preencher o quotidiano; os mapas são frequentes na mão ou mal dobrados e enfiados numa qualquer bolsa; a música no ar é a diversidade linguística, a campainha e o "barulho"; as conversas cruzadas, os flashes e as fotografias compõem um quadro aprimorado pelos adolescentes que correm atrás e com um saltinho se servem de boleia. Nisto, um indivíduo careca, não local, tira uma foto onde decerto fiquei enquadrado, descontraidamente de cabeça apoiada nos braços enlevados e sustentados nos apoios verticais suspensos disponíveis. Ele, o indivíduo, fala depois com a mulher que o acompanha, dizendo que interpreta expressões faciais… Seria a minha motivo de captura? Adensa-se uma curiosidade que vejo impossível de satisfazer pois ele está de saída no Miradouro de Santa Luzia. Ele, ela, os transportadores de mapas e demais. Há espaço. Há quase quedas no arranque e apercebo-me que nas ruas estreitas percorridas pelos carris lá fora, pessoas encolhem a barriga, encostam-se à parede, acenam com um sorriso nos lábios e cães espreitam à janela. É com esta Graça que saio. A chuva parou.

Depois da azáfama eléctrica, busco a abrangência da cidade no topo de uma das sete colinas, sendo chamado pela Nossa Senhora do Monte, no cimo da Calçada do Monte. Ressalta à vista o espelho do Tejo interrompido ao meio na fotografia pela elevação do Castelo. Imagino lá em baixo a confluência das ruas perdidas de Lisboa para cada uma das pequenas clareiras entre prédios que serão praças. Ao meu lado uma jovem aponta para longe, como quem procura o conforto de um lugar conhecido. Um jovem, de boina, farta barba e roupagem de tonalidades cinzentas interrompidas pelo escape do seu cachecol vermelho, traça seus esquissos desta mesma vista que avisto, mas no seu ângulo. Ele está calmamente concentrado, de pernas soltas, estendidas e sentado no paredão. Talvez um dia tenha honras de ter uma exposição publicitada no 28 tal como a Paula Rego hoje. Desejo-lhe sorte.

Não é com sorte que chego ao meu último destino, apesar de em nada sobressair da restante envolvente geográfica. O número da porta e a rua já estavam encomendados e foi só ter a disposição mental na busca porta a porta. Vejo-me então a chegar à Tasca do Jaime. Apercebo-me agora que é um espaço de Fado à medida que me encosto à ombreira da porta a sentir o cheiro quente a comida. É um espaço estreito mas comprido, de balcão corrido de um lado e mesas do outro. Mesmo ao fundo as mesas prevalecem quando o balcão se acaba, terminando o espaço num pequeno 'L' numa reentrância à direita. As paredes são forradas a azulejos azuis e brancos até à altura dos ombros, daí até ao tecto cobertas de fotografias emolduradas de gente célebre e de outros que nem tanto do lado das mesas; prateleiras de garrafas com um ocasional CD de Fado no intervalo do lado do balcão. As toalhas das mesas com padrão quadriculado de traços grossos também azuis e brancos estão ocupadas e cada restante centímetro de chão vai para o mesmo estado. Aos sentados pede-se que comam enquanto os de pé, querendo, podem ficar-se pelo beber. Para lá do balcão observo uma travessa de pastéis de bacalhau prontos a servir, mas peço apenas ao Jaime uma Ginja de Alcobaça e vejo o meu desejo atendido com prontidão. Quem mo sugeriu foi Hélder Fagulha (foi assim que ele se apresentou, com primeiro e último nome), reformado de 73 anos que todos os dias passa por aqui. De boina verde escura na cabeça, uns olhos azulados, camisa xadrez acinzentada, com um lenço vermelho que brota à vista por entre o aberto do colarinho e casaco de malha, diz-me que de vez em quando também aqui canta pois "alfacinha da Graça tem de saber cantar o Fado". As luzes apagam-se e o silêncio imediatamente instala-se. Uma única voz audível retrata saudade, balanceada pelas cordas da guitarra, mas quando a luz acende de novo volta-se ao convívio familiar que este espaço nos proporciona. Apercebo-me do Hélder já ao fundo que canta de olhos fechados uma desgarrada, com versos ao desafio, e espera por quem lhe responda. Obviamente um novo verso não falta e até o Jaime irrompe por detrás do balcão para dar um ar da sua graça. As pessoas aplaudem, são afáveis, disponíveis, conversadoras e estão aqui para e pelo convívio. A mistura de idades é visível nos rostos, há o contraste entre os lenços "tipo Hélder" e "tipo Árabe", o Português é a língua mais comum, há respeito, come-se, bebe-se e canta-se numa azáfama que poderia ser a do 28, numa hora insuspeita, numa tarde de Domingo.

João Prata Antunes

My Oh Please Stop Post

2010-10-16T22:23:00.003+01:00

...

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My Different Post

2010-10-15T22:12:00.001+01:00

No words to be added... just thoughts...

My Thin Line between Sophisticated and Depressive

2010-10-09T00:12:00.001+01:00

By now you should know that I am seated in the floor of my living room side by side with a bottle of wine… The bottle is empty already… Once again I claim freedom of speech and introduce the fact that the bottle was not full when I start this activity… I don't see me as a drunken person… I don't see this as I a bragging situation… I just see this as the way it is… I see pleasure… I see the thin line between a sophisticated environment and a depressive scenario… These lights should be trimmed instead of incur is laziness taking off my shoes, one by one, it is funny once the only way to take them off is one by one and never a higher number because you never have, in most case scenarios, a higher number of shoes to take off in sequence. Never two by two… unless you have a great night endeavoring for entertainment and you are the actor with the major acting role… if you know what I mean once I do not have the intention of being more explicit. This is not the wine talking, is just the current conversation in-between my minds… yes I do have more than one mind… and they constantly struggle about the pieces of garbage I should proclaim and point out in a digital piece of paper. The good part for the green mind is that no arm is done to environment. I am not kidding; I do have a green mind… I hope you all do. No matter it is only awake for five minutes a day… Obviously is not ideal but even if I am extremely demanding I can concede, if I am humble enough to do that, the experiment of not being 100% green once I guess no one is, and 5% green is better than 0%. Oh, poor of spirit those who don't even try to think green. I let myself be dragged outside the scope of this writing project which is being choked by my laziness just by the simple fact that I still have not got and not opened a new fresh bottle of (a different) red wine to continue enhancing this non-alcoholic writing eloquence. And also, the liking to merge in such liquids corpse with my tongue part. I shout about being a French bohemian artist in this last sentence I think… Well I am not… Even if I think about such style… I guess this nonsense words are enough… I should take off my echoing headphones drug, lift up and get that new bottle…

I introduce yourselves to my drunkenness… a healthy one…

My Laudatory Writing to Perfume

2010-09-18T12:11:00.001+01:00

Today I feel like writing. Not necessarily about nothing or anything, which this might be one of the best aspects to write about. This is not my first time. I feel like writing a lot. From anger to despair. Oddly two examples from what I claim detachment. It must be due to alphabetically order and there are several others in between. That must be it. I feel a bit rusty on this. I shall impose to myself a weekly based writing. No, it must be natural. It must flow. Flow like a non-dried river would flow in the middle of any Season. Like the morning breathe which allow us to smell the fresh baked bread coming from somewhere we cannot identify once our senses are still trying to gather. At least as I imagine it would be if I live somewhere around some bakery and not in some street of light where you can inhale the fresh pollution for the morning while the odor of animal feces (ahah…feces…always makes me laugh) embraces you with a cozy welcome to the street. Thank God for the old lady, ok so she maybe is not that old, I am not sure, but she is older than me or at least I hope she is older than me, or poor her, the old lady who lives in the walking odor perfume that inhabits in my building, to be more accurate, in the building in which I also inhabit.

My Irresponsible Smile

2010-03-14T22:41:00.001Z

I don't usually smile, or maybe I do… I guess sometimes I don't really know it anymore and I get confused… I think I like smiling, from heart... Or is it just a pale reflection from others around? I tease and I mock as I proclaim humour, happiness and optimism but how much of that is not just a strong arm wrestling against something I cannot even define? Today I feel like a walking contradiction to those assumptions that I don't even feel the joy while writing... I feel lost in a blended emotional/rational compound and I start thinking that emotionless is from where I should not had left... Oh, I was so glad I left and re-learned to smile and uncontrollable smile... This probably looks like an insane despair once I want to continue smiling even though I might feel that would be irresponsible...

My Second Year

2010-03-04T23:19:00.001Z

João can now seat...

Peacefully...

He grabs his headphones... Finally!

Some time for himself... Press play...

I had these two tiring working days, from 9am (yesterday) to almost 8pm (today) with not a huge amount of sleeping hours, about 4 hours of sleep... and after cleaning kitchen from previous dinners and inclusively having dinner... here I sit... in this so called padded chair with the laptop atop my legs (laptop atop?...is that correct english?...I liked it...)... Suddenly a sad, but beautiful, song starts playing in my iTunes... Portuguese group... The Gift... usually they sing in English, but this one I am hearing is in Portuguese... Fácil de Entender...I am in a quiet, calm, ease state of mind... It feels really good... Just want to close my eyes and leave the purest thoughts flow from each hidden corner of my spirit with no control about any of them... To get lost... Picturing the breathe confronting each single pore in my face, probably even rain drops when lying down in the grass... Today is the day completing my second year and I am far and I am tired... (incomplete writing...)

My Indescribable Truth

2010-02-19T23:56:00.001Z

Oh yes it is exploding, not literally, but it is, in any way that something indescribable can explode. I know it is too vague or probably too insane but it is what it is, even if it is indescribable or even if it is nothing concrete. I blush and I fade as I boil in confusion with what creates these urges connected with what seems a passion invading my life. My so fucked up rational life shakes easily as a gigantic castle of cards is blown away with the wind. Oh it feels good, so damn good. It almost seems that floating is possible as some passionate teenager in his fifteens. I am considerably lost in my guided/oriented/organized life. I want to feel the world and I want to fill the world. Break the chains and follow the unpredictable toughness with no expectations, building the life... actually not building anything, anything at all, just collecting the experiences and the opportunities with no regrets even if that makes me selfish. So let me be selfish, oh please let me be; while I enjoy loving what can be offered to me so that I can believe in karma once I also childishly believe favours should not be paid back but paid forward. I know I said I am rational. I am not. I should have stayed longer. I love this passion and I thank.

My 'Just Because...'

2010-01-24T22:44:00.001Z

Just because it is echoing inside my mind...

My Good Vibe

2009-08-29T16:42:00.001+01:00

Feels good...

My Arrival

2009-07-24T17:45:00.001+01:00

Oh yes, and I arrived... Two glorious weeks fulfilled with people and beer... My writing is now emotional instead of sober, I apologise for that but it is still all so fresh. Not even 10 hours passed and I am nostalgic. I met so many funny people that I miss them already, either in Göttingen or in Lyon and even in some trains during my travelling. I started a list which I pretended to post in the blog, I definitely started but then some people crossed my life which I don't even know the name and it is not fair because the list would be incomplete. I gave those people a bit of me and they gave me a bit of them, it was reciprocal. I met a young star (I hope) female singer; a guy who does underwater rugby (yes I got the same impression...wtf is that?); an Italian girl from Rome, who was reading Dostoiévski, that works on CERN in Genève, and already lived in San Francisco; and a German woman who works in gathering the information for citizen cards (not the Portuguese one, but she knew what we were doing), that already lived in a lot of different places including Tokyo and currently living in Zurich, and also already took the Trans-Siberian... Cool isn't it? One thing these people have in common, they have never been in Portugal... I met even more people and I just mentioned those because I met them during travelling/waiting time. It was really nice to meet everybody, visit my friend and family and meet my friend and family friends :)

This is passionate writing...

My Last Post from Lyon

2009-07-23T19:10:00.001+01:00

My last post from Lyon...another river view...La Saone

My 22nd of July midday

2009-07-22T11:05:00.001+01:00

Le Rhone...

My Bike

2009-07-17T08:12:00.001+01:00

I want to ride my bike...to Lyon

My 'Pause'

2009-07-16T12:16:00.001+01:00

Just like superstars...

My First Stop

2009-07-11T16:52:00.001+01:00

Koln Hauptbahnhof

My Second Round

2009-07-10T15:58:00.001+01:00

Tiny tiny second round...but still a second round...

My Absolute Lack of Interest in the Actual Situation of Something that does not Encourages me to Write the Usual Profuse Stuff

2009-06-22T02:25:00.002+01:00

I believe that such auspicious title is the most touching invitation to the reading of the following lines where no surprises can be found. The consequent dilemma is the necessary text extension to force challenging readers to give up already from the begging and to not drag them to a complex working mind episode where from nothing good will result. With the adequate minimum number of lines, the number of people really interested in continuing reduces, at least in a first phase. The curious returns (in a not so further future) full of courage to assault this experience. New ambitions in quantity need to be achieved to eliminate also such possibility so I seek for the number where even the greater believer in the quality of my pure weird thoughts at least hesitates and that will be the exact moment where I place my final mark. This first introductory script is not necessarily introductory to anything and I hope those who felt the need of only start reading see this as an indirect, but most honest advice I can give right now. I do not possess a concern for people reading these words. I honestly don't. Today this post is only a fight against sloth and lack of will in writing in this blog about something and especially in English. I mentally struggle with words I cannot translate, create or reinvent and feel the typical eloquent Portuguese guy in its Benfica training suit desiring to flower violently from me with all the necessary special effects, George Lucas or Spielberg style (randomly selected), and scatter trivial and profuse articulated sounds with meaning, vulgaris words, either spoken or written anywhere. I miss writing in my mother tongue, and I miss it so much that writing some 'fitas' (I just discovered I have no clue how to translate this word to its actual meaning, probably strait stripe of silk fabric), typical for the end of a student academic life, turned out to be refreshing despite all traditional sentimentalisms expressed and which I obviously do not corroborate. I have certainly not yet accomplished the adequate number of lines which is not an obstacle and inclusively it is appealing and interesting only for irrational people. But in any case due to late hours reasoning I end this mild anguish tour around some other satisfactions without reaching any conclusion which necessarily does not have to exist but always everybody expects one, or a moral or a diffuse blended thought where intellectuals (or maybe psychologists) find the kernel of whatever I might have written. Indulgently I say sorry for wasting your time... Please be comfy to insult in the comments section!

My Santos

2009-06-13T18:10:00.001+01:00

Typical...

My Night in 'Cidades Impossíveis'

2009-05-15T02:17:00.000+01:00

And here, where the first Portuguese words are introduced they mean Impossible Cities but such translation is not used in my title once it is the title of a play I just see hours ago. From my long absence in the blog (I present here my apologies for all the fans and my three followers :) ) I reappear with this urge already flowing through all my veins, all my thoughts until my finger tips due to all the blend of emotions created during my attendance in the audience. It is performed by a bunch of young amateur actors, do not misunderstood the word ‘amateur’ once they are very talented, part of the so called ‘Novo Núcleo Teatro’. Introduction made to the group, back to the play. Obviously I will not present a thorough description of all the action/acts but the first word crossing my mind to describe it, is beautiful. Not in its visual meaning of something that your eyes focus once some messy scenarios are presented, but beautiful in all the humoristic interventions mixed with genuine and personal feelings together with a bit of tenderness and effusive passion. As you mentally travel, in all different scenarios, within yourself, you remember your past trying to invoke it from the deepest hidden moment. Moments that you rarely remember because they were years ago but still are part of you; and the same easy way time presses our experiences deeper they will always define a little bit of you and left a smile on your face when you remember them, just for pure nostalgia...

The music still floating in my head... ‘Look at me...’...

My Green Country

2009-04-27T23:27:00.001+01:00

As I seek for a leisure time reviewing an online Portuguese newspaper, specifically 'Público', I notice a little banner in the right top corner of the page really green. Obviously such green advertise is expected to offer some green information with title Green Portugal Map. It is a funny idea using Google Maps service where you can place your green contribution to a better environment. Just place where you live and describe your environment friendly acts during your quotidian life, maybe even telling people some curiosities or ingenious ideas you have Voting Earth. I already stated some comments, in Portuguese, just give also something... just for fun... and read other comments, you might find some ideas appealing.

My New Identity

2009-04-27T15:54:00.002+01:00

Yes, I know... A title like this sounds more auspicious, but due to the number of hours of wait just for today I guess the magnitude of receiving this ID achieves an elevated degree... To grant this statement just ask someone already with a Citizen Card.

P.S. - I believe you did not expected to see an absolutely clear picture...

My Giraldo

2009-04-24T10:37:00.001+01:00

Just a friday morning in the center of Évora

My Sports Running

2009-04-21T22:14:00.001+01:00

First of all, the identification of run related with sports. Purely physic. Because you can run away from something, metaphorically, and that's purely psychological. Ok it also can be physic if that 'something' is really someone with whom you had a 'disagreement' and things can become rough. This time we stay in the sports. So this run of mine has the key reason in my attempt of a full recovery of my knee, strengthening all muscles/sinews around in such area. My lack of judgment about anatomical aspects does not allow me to inform you what specifically fibers where affected in the caused impact and I also do not remember the exact words uttered by the orthopedist who received me in the emergency room. I also confess that this weakness exists since about one year ago, with no adequate solution to heal it taken by me at least visiting another doctor. I also believe in the strengthening which I never correctly performed constantly. I will try that also (four 'also' in four sentences in a row… not bad… maybe one day I will write a post where I use a randomly peaked word in every sentence… and I know I wrote another 'also' but does not count in the row) because I do believe it would really improve towards my absolutely full recovery where after I can spread some magic away through, not the fields but in my usual case the pavilion. Despite the health concern which is absolutely appraisable, when I run it is an opportunity to sweat all my bad feelings and thoughts from my mind. I unburden in every step I take feeling the hard pavement being pressed below my feet pushing my body ahead over and over again. It is the complete sensation of independence where all concerns travel around your head with no purpose for solution. They just lay there in your mind waiting for an opportunity to make your life miserable because during such running nothing affects you…

My Thesis

2009-04-15T22:38:00.001+01:00

Done!

My Alentejo

2009-03-31T17:38:00.004+01:00

I intended to post a video now and my choice fall in the beautiful documentary broadcasted by SIC (Portuguese TV broadcaster…but obviously a Natural World documentary offered by BBC) about the biodiversity existing not only in my country but specifically in my region in opposition with another video, this one broadcasted by TVI (another Portuguese TV broadcaster) where words like corrupt are placed in the same sentence as the name of the prime minister from the country where I live... Back to the beauty, the so called ‘montado’ is described so beautifully in the documentary and is presented all his charm, environmental importance and magnificent splendor that actually surprised me seen this way. I just watched it here in the Internet and it is my intention to share it with you as I am dazzled. The title is Creatures of the Cork Forest and also presents a discussion about the natural corks stoppers placed in wine bottles being substituted by an artificial seal. After this… I definitely vote for natural corks. I left you with an ancestral Portuguese proverb about the importance of the years in this beautiful scenario which is important to preserve:
"Vinhas das minhas,
Olivais dos meus pais,
E montados dos meus antepassados…"

My Beautiful Feelings

2009-03-29T20:01:00.004+01:00

Today I felt love during the day and thought how beautiful it can be but I will get through this weird moment...

My Culturgest Thursday Night

2009-03-26T21:14:00.001Z

Walking towards the main door to enjoy John Taylor Trio Jazz concert...

My Lisbon civil construction Art

2009-03-20T23:44:00.001Z

Ok, it is not mine...and probably the photo does not help but you can just walk from Cais do Sodre to Bairro and see for yourselves...

My Stupidity at 5:11 PM

2009-03-17T17:18:00.002Z

I am so stupid… but so stupid… incredibly stupid... brutally stupid...pure dumb ass... I am so fucking stupid... so "#$"#%#$ #$&$%/&%# and "#%#$&" and "%$#"%#$ and "#%$/(/)(&/ and %$/%($ and even !"#$"!#$$ STUPID....

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Count to 10...

1, 2,...

Goosfraba...

Idiot...

Relax...

Let your anger gently flow out of your body...

Keep breathing...

Deeper...

Once more breathe in and breathe out...

...

A bit better now...

Don't think about it...

Errr....

My Vote

2009-03-15T19:54:00.001Z

This one is easy. This election is interesting, inspiring, and important to your mind spirit, to your future. Only a small percentage should respect Portugal because my country is only a small percentage of this global election. VOTE EARTH. On March 28 you can vote switching off your lights for one hour, from 8:30-9:30 PM. This is Earth Hour against global warming. The election results are going to be presented in Global Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen 2009 and this way I am helping spreading the word out.
Check out all the information at Earth Hour! Vote Earth!

My Night Train to Lisbon by Pascal Mercier

2009-03-10T23:59:00.002Z

This is just a book I am reading about a Swiss professor, expert in old and classical languages, whose nickname is Mundus and suddenly in his life, changing all his habits and routines always followed mindfully through his thick glasses, he meets a strange Portuguese woman who barely speaks to him but the few is enough to feel the melodic sound in Portuguese words which echoes in his ears for more time than in reality becoming impassioned. From this short contact and after having touch with a Portuguese book written by Amadeu Inácio de Almeida Prado with absolute no logical reason he starts a quest trying to find this author leaving past behind all his current, defined and comfortable common life. His seek brings him obviously to Lisbon, the capital and largest city in Portugal and as he walks in Lisbon streets some peculiar places are described and as I read I confess… ‘Cheira bem, cheira a Lisboa’ is in the air…

My First Year

2009-03-04T22:56:00.001Z

And so it was, just like no one said how it would be...

My first year without you ends with tears, tears for thinking about everything just right now, tears that occasionally have the opportunity to feel what exists beyond the eyes just for small seconds, tears that urge to scream and make feel the whip, tears that I control not every day I assume but occasionally as said... The same tears with who I struggled for months with every strength of my body. And now in my current solitude (as always) I do not have the control, I don't want to... I do not struggle, I don't want to... not now... Those same tears gush through my eyes gently as my penitence asks why... How so different life would be even with all my lacks of responsibility, my bad judgements and my bad family connection...

I entirely assume my will of smiling every day never thinking of the past year, blocking in my mind all the thoughts that make me struggle but I am not indifferent despite what it can look from outside. Even when it just seems I don't care it is just the shield I managed to grow up in me to never show you my fears. Not to you, not almost to anyone... And this is the way I write... writing to you... and as people say, wherever you are... maybe looking... maybe smiling and not alone... while I stay! But don't worry because I am stronger now, much stronger... just not now... I don't want to... I am stronger and wiser, tricking my mind with insane rationality, never wasting a single hour or minute with nothing crossing it. This is my game even if confused with unconcern. My mind is so busy that I lost myself in my million thoughts but I don't care because I will not cry. And if occasionally I feel such need, I struggle until I am back in the game again. This is not indifference... From the deep of my guts I want to scream when I am accused of that, but I can't and I won't because I am better now and I understand. Is it bad to close my thoughts? Is it selfish? Yes I am ok this way but what do you think? Do you think I have forgotten you? Never... despite my lousy game. I just don't want to struggle more... Please don't be mad... I miss you being mad... Maybe I am not that strong and I am a coward instead... But I am ok as long as you still love me... and I am pretty sure you do... wherever you are... even if I have never said it too you, only responding to your message 'Adoro-te' with a complete idiocy similar to 'Eu também' when you were turning weaker... My stupid reasons stopped me for saying it even if I only felt such need in those times... Do you read my thoughts? Some of them are pretty stupid aren't they? But this is just me... I am sorry! All so many things I wanted to apologise to you would sound me as a 'Goodbye' and I never wanted that... I never thought of that... I only said 'We will see tomorrow how things are going' even if Dad thought I didn't want to face the cruel truth telling me several times how bad was the clinical chart. Don't blame him, he was just trying to protect me, I know. He is really strong too you know, facing all the adversities, not alone, never alone, but with stomach. Yeah, I know, he as large stomach... I remind you laughing now; we were all in the car... I remember... I won't tell the story here because I am not going to mock her, but it was pretty funny... I wrote around a year ago that I didn't want to miss you, I used another blog before this one... really, I did used... anyway I wrote I didn't want to miss you but now as I go calmer I don't think that anymore if it is to talk a little bit with you, but just the good stuff... I don't want to talk about bad stuff... Na na... good and funny stuff cleans my mind and I don't need to struggle... not because I don't want now... I don't need too...

My Critic

2009-03-03T01:02:00.002Z

This post goes, not to the one I love as the song, but to my literary critic which contributes hugely to the inherent quality growth in this blog when English language is concern. Thanks to his incisive commentaries, massive reading of English literature and full time dedication to all words written among these lines I felt the need to improve, and keep improving, my literacy to not be offended, be made anecdote and the most important to not induce our fellow non-Portuguese cohabitants in this little blue and potentially more beautiful planet, especially those who can speak, talk and read the language of William Shakespeare, in error about my language lack of skills minding the Portuguese reputation. I will transcript just a small conversation with my critic, translated and including a little bit of eloquence writing to enhance the glamour of words, noticing his wise concern enlightening me about such vile fault.

Critic: "Is it Rik a non-Portuguese friend of yours?"

Tunes: "No! Why?"

Critic: "That's good or else he would be so badly impressed..."

In that moment I stuttered in thinking with all this new vision for a brighter world crossing the front of my eyes through the delicate weight of words with a striking truth about the importance of a well articulated and constructed sentence currently. This conversation took place via instant messaging after he made an exhaustive reading along some of my posts and noticed people responded me using the commentary little box I made available asking for knowledge. It is my intention to greatly thank and expose the deeply esteem I possess for him and promote the influence he moved in me always, inviting others to accept his faultless guidance seeking for constant evolution attempting to achieve easily their own awesomeness...

I Thank

My Sunday Morning 2

2009-03-01T12:32:00.002Z

Alentejo? Desert?

My Sunday Morning

2009-03-01T11:56:00.001Z

Alqueva...

“My” Mystery

2009-02-28T15:45:00.001Z

Ok, I confess that last post was no more than…a single post! Not even rubbed the slightly interesting, so my own attempt of awesomeness was not even compared with garbage, worse than garbage… I guess even despite the "original" lyrics I created. So, as redemption and as a bit of my pure interests I give you something I totally adore. Those who know me probably already know what this post it's about due to title but for those who don't I clarify. I will transcript the lyrics of a song interpreted by no other than Mr. Hugh Laurie (I hope he is not a reader or he will probably sue me… I mean, if he is a reader I don't care about anything… Mr. Laurie, I am honoured to have you as a visitor and I must say that I am a huge fan of your work, since your Bits until your current limps in the hospital. Don't worry I am not such of those stoker and scary fans because I have absolutely no idea where you live now despite having a poster of you in my bedroom...ups...to many information...just kidding...that would be a bit to gay...sorry if susceptibilities were hurt with this lousy comment (even lousier than my previous post) … but what I do have in my bedroom is a machine written paper with the transcription of your overwhelming Mystery song), (this was probably the longest parenthesis comment):

Mystery,

All my life has been a mystery

You and I were never ever meant to be

That's why I call my love for you

A mystery

Different country,

You and I have always lived in a different country

And I know that airline tickets, don't grow on a tree

So what kept us apart is plain for me to see

That much at least, is not really a mystery

Estuary,

I live in a houseboat on an estuary

Which is handy for my work with the Thames water authority

But I know you would have found it insanitary

Insanitary

Taken a violent dislike to me

I would be foolish to ignore the possibility

That if we actually met you might have hated me

But still that's not the only problem that I can see

Dead since nineteen seventy three,

You've been dead now, wait a minute let me see

Fifteen years come next January

As a human being you are history

So I do I still long for you

Why is my love so strong for you

Why did I write this song for you,

Well I guess that's just the mystery…

Hugh Laurie

My Lunch

2009-02-28T13:04:00.001Z

Look at the time. I just woke up. It has not been this way for several days. I used to wake up early, have a nice bath and breakfast and go ahead to my University working on my Thesis. I guess today is not such day because I am going to my hometown later. But anyway, since I just woke up at this nice hour, which is lunch time, I decided to adapt a little part of a song, played by Dispatch, to my inquiry about today's lunch.

What is it gonna be?

I don't know

And what do you want to feel?

I can't tell

And what do you want to eat?

I don't know

Just take me down to a catering choice

Your Sex

2009-02-26T13:11:00.003Z

In contrast with other post titles starting with the pronoun 'My' as blog identity, and obviously to still follow such orientation, I see the need to start this one differently with such reference tending to you dear readers. Yes, no others than you, because you are the contributors in comments and for this specific topic, in votes. Despite my pool not being overwhelmed in vote quantity and not an undeniable winner raised from the votes, but a trend exists and I shall salute the decent hygiene preferences which clearly indicate a concern with modern lifestyle and coexistence in cities, countries and world. I am totally delighted with such social background concerns in favour of economic assumptions related with inventory investments which by several reasons never came out of the drawers. I am possibly scared if such unconcern about inventory is due to the non use of such.

I also notice a slightly selfish behaviour related with those who have a major capability to easily start sleeping. Obviously afterwards both win a smiley face and probably sleep even better. I guess maybe I saw this from another angle and the situation is just good companionship, compassion and affection.

Poll Results:

(this will remain registered for posterity and allows me to close the poll results)

Do it to change the subject

(11%)

Condoms are about to expire

(11%)

Can't get to sleep

(22%)

Your friend just told you a new position

(11%)

To reinforce good behaviours such as shaving and dental hygiene

(33%)

Other

(11%)

P.S. - I clearly believe that voters (ok it was just one...) for 'Other' should elucidate such other reason...

My Train

2009-02-21T18:44:00.002Z

Today I left Lisbon for a small little fast weekend with family in my hometown, Évora. I have no idea if my city has a translation to its name and not knowing that and writing it as in Portuguese makes me wonder why did I wrote Lisbon in the first line and not Lisboa. Some tiny adjustments I need to make in this dichotomy of Portuguese thinker and English writer. Maybe just the major cities have translation to other languages because translating every single town is just unnecessary and a pure waste of time. Anyway I left the Portuguese capital towards my hometown and for the first time I took the train for this route. I had never made it since a decent connection was established in 2006 between both cities. Not even before I must say because its use was not really enhanced due to a long time connection and necessary train changes. Bus was then a preferable alternative. Now both choices are competitive solutions having their own interesting features in all the marketing. In travel time it's basically the same, less than 2 hours, and while train is a bit cheaper, bus offers more travels by day. Just adjust your needs.

My personal opinion, despite all costs and all the number of travels by day, if the travel time is placed in the same range I definitely choose the train. Is more roomy, wider, comfortable, and feet space is included. I am totally in favour of trains and even more when they are not directly pollutant, because not even all trains have electrical traction. Maybe it is becoming rare the use of combustion motors in trains, and that example is even more found in the so called wealthier countries, because in Croatia during my inter-rail I definitely remember trains chimneys smoking. Above I mentioned 'directly pollutant' because the production of electricity is still dependent on fuel despite the pleasant and necessary use of 'green electricity'. Hurray for Obama and his will to make a massive bet in renewable energies since he is the President of (once again) the so called number one country in the World. So for this country: with your great power comes a great responsibility (Yes is adapted from Spiderman which is being broadcasted in TVI right now). At least be a decent model.

Not turning this post into political issues but yet making reference to an open discussion in Portugal which is related to TGV I state my humble, simple and non-economical opinion with a bit of a doubt. I stated non-economical because this also could lead to another kinds of discussion due to the huge investment necessary and from where the money should come and comes from... Shorting, I am totally in favour to the TGV construction to place Portugal nearer central Europe or at least Spain, as a non (once again) directly pollutant transporter being a suitable alternative to airline companies (can't talk about low cost which already conquered a nice slice of the airline cake and probably will not be bothered) since a decent comproved study assures a good amount of people flux using such connection to Madrid. Currently only one train leaves Lisbon towards Madrid and I confess it was full when I used it in the summer but it is a night train which took all night, and let's face it, there is only one by day. Today I took my Lisbon-Évora train, and is pretty great. I don't think I necessarily need a TGV to stop in my hometown...

My Morning Song

2009-02-21T13:23:00.003Z

You know when you wake up in the morning and despite you haven't listen to any song, music or even your neighbour singing in the shower there is a music that rises from the deep of your head/conscience/heart/whatever you may call it... Today I woke up, rubbed my ways, stared to all my bedroom and lived like a zombie until bath time a couple of minutes later. As you feel your body are cleaner, as your soul, from past non beneficial behaviours to your inner being the music starts to flow slowly across your veins and your motto for today is that ... ‘You can’t always get what you want’...

My IAESTE

2009-02-18T03:19:00.001Z

A couple of months ago I applied to the possibility of running to an internship made available by IASTE. Where IASTE is The International Association for the Exchange of Students for Technical Experience. As the name suggests, it is related with my current professional status since I am still finishing my master degree. The process starts with your interest being shown filling an application informing about your course, your language skills in four different languages I believe, and the possible places where you would like to work. In that time I was astonished with the amount of possibilities. I believe that almost all countries in the world were part of the list. And you even have to choose three options. So my decisions were Luxemburg, Germany and Denmark. Luxemburg was about a girl, Germany because I spend some nice days there and raised my interest and Denmark just for curiosity about the country. Anyway I must repeat that this application is just to inform IAESTE about your interest in participating in a possible internship and concerning my skills, other interested people skills and the total number of interested people, IAESTE Portugal will arrange some jobs here in Portugal as an exchange coin to other jobs in the other countries. Only later (now, in February) a complete list of all internships is made available and you apply again for a specific job competing against whoever is interested. The concept is fair and I confess my enthusiasm when a colleague managed, in the last year, to be selected to an internship in Cambridge. I thought to myself, Sweet! Or maybe, Awesome! And now, as it was presented the list to me, I almost immediately felt the need to write this post. Starting! Only three jobs were made available for electrical engineering students and the locations are absolutely... I don't know exactly the words because it was not totally bad but also because it was not really amazing... they were at least different from what I was expecting. Greece, Thailand and Macau contrast a bit from Luxemburg, Germany and Denmark. At least Greece is in Europe. I mean, Greece and Thailand definitely can seduce me due to all islands and old Greece history, and a totally different culture I would find in Thailand in the other side of the world. But with Macau I only can think about casinos and all that kind of environment. I guess I was right because the job there was something about maintenance of systems in a hotel/casino for first class environments. I can also write about this payment which was around 7 500 MOP. I don't even dare to convert it to Euros in here. I will let you, dear readers, do it. It is not that bad but it is not good So besides Macau I still have the other two opportunities. Next stop Thailand. The job is attractive because is related with electrical energy (my favourite area) and it is specifically to renovate old equipments they use in hydro power plants to have a more efficient operation. The negative side is related by the number of Baht I would receive. And by Baht I mean the currency in Thailand. So I would receive around 7 000 Baht. Does anyone have an idea how much that is? Life in Thailand must be really really really, but really cheap. Anyway concerning only about the job I think this is the most attractive from all three. The last but not the least I present you the Greek job with 160 € for week with and estimated life cost of 640 € for month. Do your math. Following... I must say that this is not the most particular interest in this job. The climax is reached in the job description where I find 'Industrial development of weapons and weapon systems'... What can I say? I know it is a job, probably not as any other because the development of weapons is not necessarily to achieve world peace with no costs... How can they purpose such a job... You can say, it's just a job, but I guess my conscience will always judge if I have made any bad contribution to the world through my professional life, and probably the development of weapons is really high in the top of such things...

My New Drug (seen in GCDR)

2009-02-08T13:07:00.001Z

From my previous blog I took the liberty to copy my first ever English post and place it in this new web space. So it is not new and fresh and majority of my friends already red it due to my publicity when I produce it. I confess I was proud when I wrote it as a test to my English writing, which is highly helped with web dictionaries and the wise judgment of Microsoft Word (Microsoft haters will now hate me also due to free publicity but guess what; I just don't care about any of that arguing). This post is a reference to a comic TV series I follow and another reason for my huge appreciation was my attempt to a funny writing. Despite not being, and will most probably never be, a masterpiece, I proudly present is this blog 'My New Drug':

Kids I'm going to tell you the story of how I became absolutely dependent of a TV show. You already know the part where my humour is always evolving and in a constant seek for absolutely geniality even touching what is not slightly polite and sometimes possibly offensive but never disregarding my attempts of a true intelligent humour. In truth, my attempt to be awesome! It is not easy to assume my obvious new influence with constant shouted new laughs, exalting the newest most pure and innocent heard joke or the common references to all the new and old episodes trying to bring the major stupid idea to the actual real life, sometimes even singing special Christmas carols out of season because it was the last episode I saw, or even seeing my life through all the characters eyes relying on the slightest opportunity to enounce that exact catchy phrase or that exact thought, reminding all that brand episode where something just in a little way is similar to what happened just now. It is not easy because dependence is brother with pleasure. As laugh is being my addiction, I found my new dealer, with my new drug. No name shall be pronounced and only the wiser and fortunate ones having contact with the pearls of humour are going to drink from this message, despite the outstanding brand mark clues spread along these words. It's kind of a Bro Code. Or attorney-client privilege, I can't talk about it (not Shark)!

My penance started really slowly, with innocence, just zapping on television. I thought: 'I'm just trying to relax and watch some TV'. My first contact was made just like that, never assembling the conversations of some of my friends talking about an hilarious TV show, which name I shall not pronounce (this is also a brand mark quote, but not one of the ones). But after all, it was it. I was never expecting a Portuguese translation to 'Foi assim que aconteceu' was it. But it was… But before the revelation I kept my occasional zapping routine just watching small parts of episodes, when I found them! Never knowing the broadcast day and hours to see full episodes and never having the chance to be a regular spectator. Pity me because everyone can find a TV channel schedule in Internet. But I was just not aware of the true source of knowledge inherent to that series which name I only knew in Portuguese that time, and only watched to small episode fractions, until the match occurred. Same equal characters name, characters described the same, some flashes of what I saw being the same, some of the rare humour pearls I managed to see being the same... and that's how I met the series original name. From that moment on I got high... obviously first started the seek to the original DVD series of all existing seasons ( ;) ) and episodes, and the yes I got high!

For those who are still not convinced after these 40 lines I just can make them to notice that for me, it is considered absolute dependence when among all the dreams in life, among all the feelings needed, among all that it common-sense to be necessary, among everything that in a rational thought makes sense to be a dream, I aspire to shout in the air the-absolutely-newest-something-and-obviously-necessary-thing-because-of-that-extremely-not-rare-event-that-just-happened-five. And then feel...

feel in that precise time...

that that precise moment in my life...

and in the lives of all people involved...

that precise moment...

has become legen...

…dary!!

My Ideas

2009-02-03T16:45:00.001Z

Why are ideas important? How they influence you in your life and how stupid they can turn you into? Many different types of ideas you can find wherever you go and everyone, men or women, always show some interest at their own way. Ideas can rock your world or can make it miserable. Some ideas are good, sweet, others less good, or bad or even awful. But I guess that depends on each one. What you think is a good idea I can have another opinion. It is related with feeling. But with high probability a pretty good idea is always a pretty good idea. A good idea is always desirable than a bad idea. Some ideas you like, some ideas you don't. Some can draw your attention and others just make you laugh, despite it can be offensive. With some you may think "I would definitely do this one" and others are just to dream about because it is impossible to work it out. Ideas can be poor or make you happy, can make you think differently or help you to be better. Ideas where you spend money, ideas that make you sweat and ideas that make you think you are not that good. If there is that great idea you want to do, and you do it, that is when you reach a goal. Ideas can mean trouble and many ideas can mean many trouble. Ideas can be tricky or joyful, funny or lame, but without ideas our civilizations would never developed until today and continue to develop towards the future… Long live to ideas…

My Buddy Wall-E

2009-02-01T00:11:00.004Z

In an annoying and boring day, exception made for Benfica and its new old striker Pedro Mantorras in last match (1-0 against Rio Ave), I see myself in a miserable situation seated alone at home in a Saturday night watching crappy television and surfing on the internet and also having this huge need to talk with someone to feel less awful. While on this fed up situation I had an absolutely brilliant idea to search for Wall-E stuff on YouTube. That little fellow is probably one of my favourite characters in actual movies. Also the movie is called Wall-E as its rising star. My friends, they know my opinion about the movie, for those who do not know it, I think they now are becoming enlighten. Wall-E is just one of the best movies I have ever seen. Probably most of you, dear readers, eared something about Wall-E. At least that it’s a Disney/Pixar movie. Or it’s an animation. Wall-E is just a little robot which is programmed to make cubes of trash. He is alone on Earth due to humans and their lack of sense with some environmental issues. As much as I wanted to describe here the entire movie (it would also depend on my skills to do it) I do not want to remove all the mysteries, charming developments and peculiar characteristics of the movie, and obviously also the little guy super funny qualities, for those who did not seen it yet. Let me just add that is highly probable for you to wish to have a Wall-E as a friend. You may be thinking that I am too sentimental or even you might call me girly but as far as I am concerned, the robot is totally lovable.

To prove my point, or at least trying to prove it I present a little video that I watched on YouTube during my seek for a better day where you could meet Wall-E and a couple of his friends. This is not new and some of the clips were used to promote the movie last summer...
Just delightful...

My 31 of January look

2009-01-31T15:57:00.002Z

What if you look in the mirror and you see yourself just like this? No more can I say besides I think it looks a bit greater than awesome...
hairdressers envy five... :)

My hostels

2009-01-31T02:32:00.002Z

In fact this title is not absolutely precise; the main goal is to enlighten the subject hostels while the use of a pronoun is just a curious way I am trying to use in all my titles (I know not all of them are presented this way, but now I am trying harder) following an idea I saw in a TV series. Anyway, my first contact with hostels took place last summer, the summer of 2008 where four people (me included of course) started a remarkable journey in our lives; a three weeks inter-rail. The purpose is not the discussion about places where I have been or what I have visited; it is just to make the single note about my first interaction with hostels and connect it with flash news. I stayed at Marseille – Chateau du Bois-Luzy and at Bled – Castle Hostel, being listed separately in hihostels.com and in hostelworld.com. I don't know the differences between the lists and why the different links, if one is paid by the government and the other one is owned by someone, or if simply they just belong to different communities of hostels around the world. They are different hostels, with different offers for the guests and even different kind of guests could be found in each, as would probably be in a lot of hostels. The concept is cosy and friendly salted with good will and cultural interaction between the several travellers resting there, probably even the owners, and also taking a bit of the time at an existing leisure centre or social room (I don't exactly know how to call it). Talking about this makes me want to grab my backpack and hit roads I never walked through, laughing, talking, singing and connecting with new people. But the main reason that brought me to these lines is to praise this news I read online in Público (a Portuguese newspaper), quoting The Guardian, talking about the Hoscars. Oscars for hostels. The world's most popular hostels chart is based in Hostelworld.com costumers rating the hostels according to specific criteria. At top ten 4 Lisbon Hostels are listed, and the cherry in top of the cake is made by a total Portuguese podium in the chart. Check the links and congratulations to the Portuguese guys and their projects, keep up the good work.

Público - http://ultimahora.publico.clix.pt/noticia.aspx?id=1358168&idCanal=59

The Guardian - http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/2009/jan/27/budget-hotels

Tunes

My sleepiness

2009-01-28T12:27:00.003Z

As I returned today to my, yet, usual workplace in IST, specifically to the so called 'Sala de Estudo do Deec', is totally noticed the absolute lack of strength to fight my non capability to stay effectively awake with 100% concentration.

As twitter: Wanting to have lunch and a cup of coffee...

Tunes

My January Nights

2009-01-26T01:56:00.002Z

Does the title sounds bohemian? Or you might compare it with a nice movie called My Blueberry Nights, which not being enthusiastic offers you a very pleasant time watching it. For those who appreciate the girl Norah Jones (do not read as a bastard comment) and are curious about a possible performance, this is the movie.

In my student days with final examinations in this period, I still am a student but now with all my courses finished I just do not have more examinations, my January nights were precisely the same that are now. All the supposed study made in this month is corrupted by Australian Open which is broadcasted on Eurosport. As the meridian in Australia, specifically Melbourne, is not Greenwich as where I live, obviously the day hours are completely different. To a nice hour to play tennis there, corresponds a late hour to go to bed here where the next day is supposed to start early and studying. How is it possible then, to bring together Australian Open with January study? We should have priorities and certainly we should consider that Australian Open is the first Grand Slam of the year and only happens once a year while some courses are available in both semesters and we even have two chances in the exams. Certainly we will eventually (I like the casualty in the certain) finish our degree and follow the professional life, inclusively being paid despite our total lack of responsibility. So I guess an answer is achieved then and all the worries about my study hours were not reasonable because it existed a simple and justified reason to do what I do, which is to stay seated (or laid) staring at TV and watching pure moments of beautiful tennis all night long... Ok it is not all night long because the full broadcast really goes into the night, almost morning, in the first rounds of the event where a lot of matches take place, and also obviously as long as the event is developing, the more interesting matches become.

As Twitter information: Currently watching Gael Monfils – Gilles Simon at Rod Laver Arena

Tunes

Tv Series

2009-01-24T03:19:00.003Z

Nowadays TV Series are probably one of the most successful ways of entertainment. Probably many of you dear readers are not aware of this phenomenon and you don't even care, while some others totally agree. Perhaps this comment is totally inadequate because it has always been that way. But the cause of such success needs to be totally related with the quality presented. There are a lot of drama shows complemented with action, adventure or even with Sci-Fi and comedy. There are obviously also pure comedies and several animation series which do not mean they are childish. Well I guess sometimes is childish; I really meant they are not only for children. Well I guess the main reason of this post is the newest contact I made with a series. In a world where they are successful I guess that watching series is normal...but how many? I want to feel like a regular person, which also as a cool social life and spend a lot of time breathing air outside his own house. I shall share the list of series I am currently watching and please give me your opinion about my ability to interact with other human beings:

House M.D. (40 min)

Prison Break (40 min)

Smallville (40 min)

Chuck (40 min)

Scrubs (20 min)

How I Met Your Mother (20 min)

Weeds (20 min)

My Name is Earl (20 min)

And most recently, the great causer of this post: 30 Rock (20 min), with 4 Golden Globe Awards.

I can even talk about some other cool series that a lot of my friends watch and tell me to follow, like

Lost (40 min)

Heroes (40 min)

Dexter (40 min)

Simpsons (20 min)

Family Guy (20 min)

Big Bang Theory (20 min)

Two and a Half Men (20 min)

Just mentioning American series, and obviously a lot more of them are offered to the viewer. But I think the ones I follow are just enough. Right?

As curiosity, if I do some math about series I see, counting about 20 episodes by season (ones have more, others have less... 20 is a non calculated average value of episodes by season) I spend about 5200 minutes watching just ONE season of all the series, which corresponds to about 3 and a half days (not that bad). Now imagining an average of 4 seasons by each show to keep it current, we achieve now almost two weeks. Two weeks? In a lifetime? Doesn't seem too much. Does it become serious if I say I am seeing them in a row? ... I am just kidding. Not so lunatic...

Tunes

Funny Tests

2009-01-22T17:29:00.004Z

Funny thing I just found out while surfing on web. A Portuguese radio network has in its webpage some funny tests where you can discover what you would be if you were a travel! I know it is not logic, but I think is funny. Or at least at this hour I feel it is funny. You can find out not only which kind of travel you are, but perhaps which superhero you are or which Marco Paulo song defines you. It is just me or this last one could turn you in something awesome? Or maybe you will want to find out which pick up line you would be. The tests are quite small and quickly answered. Maybe this is not new, but I just find out it now. I don’t even remember now why I went to Rádio Comercial homepage…

Travel was the first I saw and I found it curious… Presenting you the result…

Translating (my translation)...

"YOU ARE A TIME TRAVEL:
You are a nostalgic, romantic by nature. If you could, you would go back in time to revive some of your most important times in your life. You have photos spread all around the house, as well as souvenirs you acquired in each travel you made. You like to give a look at old slides from your holidays, listening the sounds of Joe Dassin. "

Tunes

Reasons to have sex

2009-01-22T01:17:00.002Z

Based on the famous TV show, How I Met Your Mother, and its famous episode titled as 'The Naked Man', I introduce my first poll. As the show followers will probably know in the episode is discussed about 50 reasons to have sex, inclusively being written a list. That list is not totally complete with all 50 reasons; at least to us viewers are explained around 20. Another good reason for a post could be my attempt to complete a full list with all 50 reasons not seen on the show. But I guess that might be a team work.

With a previous selection made by me, I defy you people to choose your preference, based on whatever criteria you have. Really believer or just stupidity the poll is open.

Just for the lack of attention in reading the poll content, Love is the main reason so it will crush all other options and so it was removed, but never forgotten.

Tunes

P.S. - I would like to apologise for my mistake in the poll's fourth option. Where it is written 'You're friend', should had been 'Your friend'. Because a vote occured (not mine, yet) it is not possible to correctly write de option. So apologies presented. Keep voting... (Damn, my english...)

My own new fresh start

2009-01-21T00:02:00.001Z

In a brand not new day, with several hours already passed from this 20^th of January, it seemed the right time to start my new solo project. For my beloved friends which I do not have left behind in other blog, I must say I need this new experience to enforce my ideas, my dreams and my hopes not expecting someone to answer but maybe reaching some more people who believe in blogs and to have something of my own. I shall not abandon the pink ones and I will always be present and making my contributions. It is not fair for me to say such blog was mine as I did sometimes, always correcting myself when such thing happens. It is our blog. Not just mine. And as I do not approve my behaviour despite sometimes I feel the loneliness of being an isolated contributor just hoping you to urge with new ideas, approvals and disapprovals of what I do or write, it fits a couple of reasons to launch myself alone with this unending need to express myself just because I want to or feel the need to. This way I respect our common project and regain a new life goal trying to maintain an actualized blog just with my own effort and dedication and represent on it all my identity.

This idea is not new, it ran my mind a couple of times but I never felt that was the day. But now, with a sudden rush decision it becomes real. I invite you all to still comment whatever you want, whenever you want or need. I began this blog wondering if I am capable enough to be humoured constantly, if it would improve my language skills and to find out if I have lots of topics about which I want to express a valid opinion about. I also hope I grow up, I hope I can open my heart for people and I hope to share nice thoughts. This is my little world which I hope to become wider...

To my entire fellow ones pink buddies...

Tunes