terça-feira, 28 de março de 2017
segunda-feira, 27 de março de 2017
I went to Douro. Douro is beautiful of course, as many places in Portugal. It has melancholy. Everything in Portugal has melancholy. I like from time to time. The trip to Douro was good to me. It had and effect. It vanished a bit since then. I feel more or less in the same mood back again. I was wondering if this was something Portuguese. If I could identify something in this as portugueses, aparte from the fact that I am portuguese. I think it can be done. there is a kind of sentimental heritage and profile that I think as portuguese. I think I am an average portuguese in relation with that profile. Perhaps, better than average, I think I fulfill a lot of characteristics in that profile. the main one is melancholy. I have very extended periods of melancholy. going back to Douro puts in me what I think as the good melancholy. When you hear the silence of the countryside. That is the good melancholy. The melnacholy in a city is much more unbearable. And I am under attack by that kind of melancholy and my legendary difficulty in relationships with people. Let's see....
terça-feira, 14 de março de 2017
This short prose will look like a confession. Perhaps it is. In english, I have no guts to write it in Portuguese. The melancholy would be unbearable. I would take three days to write just to choose the right words. Things are not going very well. Not about the Mathematics. My math is going relatively well I would say. Something else. I must confess, in the last few months, I don't feel happy. I feel sad and unhappy, and lonely. I have some flushes of happiness. Yesterday I had one, in football. Or better, three. But I am alienated from something. I don't know what or who. I felt the necessity of bringing an empty paper and a pencil for the football match. Just to have something to do, because I knew I wouldn't be capable of watching the whole match without my mind slipping to somewhere else and not getting into the excitement of the match. It kept me busy. Football wasn't capable of doing it by itself, not very much after we scored three goals, not even when one of our players was struck in the head by the elbow of another player and the ref did nothing. I walked home fast. 3Km in half an hour. During the walk I almost forgot that we've won. Normally, a win uplifts me for the whole day. Not this time. It would be the same if we had lost, I think. I felt empty during that half an hour as I feel for greater periods. The same happens when I read. I've always loved to read. I feel happy when I do it. Then I forget the books very quickly, as if I haven't read them. I can't watch a movie without disconnecting from it in less that 15 minutes because I feel I am somewhere else. It only gets better when I am among friends. It really uplifts me. But our lives are different. They have their jobs and I have mine. I feel solitude and, what I would call disquiet. I think about people I love and are not here anymore. And sometimes, less often, I kind of imagine someone I would love. What I would imagine I almost instantly discard. I was never very good at building a relationship with someone. Any kind of relationship, starting with friendships. Not mentioning girls. I always was very timid and shy. Everytime I meet someone I don't know, I feel this shyness controls my actions. Or better, my inactions. In fact, I clearly feel I am getting more and more shy and timid, and not the opposite. It makes feel worse, and I don't know how to deal with that. My eyes are wet. They don't get into tears so that the eyes don't dry. They just keep wet.
Next weekend we're going to the Douro valley. I know Douro quite well. It can change something in a person's life with just a moment of silence and a panoramic view. Let's see what it brings.