Belfast flowers

Anniversary.

2011-02-09T08:59:00.000-08:00

Now it's been over a year I haven't posted a single thing on this blog. Although, I like it. I like this blog. I think I do indeed write it to myself rather than to anyone else. No one is going to read this anyway. Is just a shame when I Google my own name and I find this blog - this is the usual way I come back on it, that's when I remember I do have a blog. It has three posts on it. Two every year, maybe at least a hundred before I die. Hopefully, anyway.

Moody weather.

2009-12-14T07:24:00.000-08:00

I am afraid. Probably like you and all the others I am afraid. Afraid of tomorrow, scared about the unscertain, the daily twists and turns of the moods, the budget for next month. Afraid to see my father leave before I go back home. Afraid of people, these silent people who keep only passing me, but never hate me or love me. Terrified by the weather that never thunders or lights up the sky on sunlight fire, just greys in the morning and darks every evening, early enough to leave on you this strange feeling that the night is up too soon. Too soon.
Always feel I`m in between the power of terror and curiosity. Eight months ago, got my bag on my back and left home enchanted by the adventurous feeling of a long, long journey, but as soon as I arrived on my destiny, rented a new home and now I watch the cold and moody weather from the closed window. Terrified.
Unhappy life is. Human is made for this undefined feeling. For longing. Longing for happiness. Longing for pleasure. Longing for life. Longing to go away, and then longing to go back. Longing.
Perhaps the perfect state we man should always be on is: packs on our backs, always ready to depart. To live on the way to places, never longing, always in between things, always going, and as soon as we arrive, turn our heads towards a new destiny and be going again. Maybe the best we could do is never be as the permanent way - ser - but always on the track - estar. Keep searching for something, and keep not knowing what this something is, but to be always searching, and leaving, and walking, never longing, always going, always leaving. Departing everywhere.
And when you get too tired to walk, get the backpack down on the floor and take the shoes off, and leave once again.

Tesco`s trick.

2009-09-26T08:58:00.000-07:00

I`m walking down the Dublin Road in Belfast centre as I look at the Tesco`s Supermarket and surprisingly notice it is indeed open at 10:30 pm!

- Open at this time in the night? Grand!

I walk in, grab some orange juice (2 for 3, not from concentrate), two rolls of bread, a small Italian Roast Coffee and a couple of beers at the enclosed alcohol section and then head to the counter.
At the counter a nice girl standing aside the manager, both smiling, they are the last employees in the shop.
This wee girl at the cashier looks at me, the manager laughs out loud and says:

- You idget! Of course we wouldn`t be opened at this time at night. Put everything back to the place and go home!

Jokes

2009-09-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

But truth is, Portuguese jokes told in English just don`t make no sense. Bilingual blog would be far too much for a lazy mind struggling to keep one blog alive or even to start one.
Don`t think the writing of this process of choosing colors and languages for a blog would bring people through these doors but having nothing else in mind to give the first kick, anyword would do.
I am a Braziliangermandescendant living in Belfast, trying to keep body and mind fit among the common fat brains and butts around.
End of the first kick.