Velho Mirante

À entrada de Lisboa havia uma quinta com um palacete a cair, e um pequeno povoado ao qual chamaram Pontinha, porque ficava no extremo de Odivelas. O povoado cresceu e é vila, e o palacete é um restaurante, edifício querido de todos nós. Os velhos moinhos da quinta ainda se vêem, bem como o aqueduto e a capela.
É à minha geração que falo, porque quase todos nascemos em Lisboa, e quase todos respondemos que somos pontinhenses, quando nos perguntam de onde somos. As pessoas não entendem, porque temos orgulho em dizer que somos da Pontinha, se é tão mais fácil dizer que nascemos em Lisboa e pronto, ninguém estranha nem faz mais perguntas. Mas nós somos filhos orgulhosos da Vila da Pontinha, porque foi nela que crescemos, fizemos asneiras, aprendemos com os erros e nos fizemos gente. Foi aí que aprendemos que ali nunca se vira a cara nem as costas.
Pontinha Norte ou Pontinha Velha, Pontinha Sul ou Pontinha Nova, Mário Madeira, Serra da Luz, Urmeira, Menino de Deus, Quinta do Pinheiro, Casal do Rato e St. Eloy. Por aqui corremos e nos formámos. E como o bom filho à casa torna, hoje em dia estamos espalhados por todo o lado, mas todos regressamos, filhos de uma terra que nos sabe receber, onde nos sentimos numa vila ou aldeia pequena, às portas da capital.
Esse sempre foi o forte dos Pontinhenses, saber receber. Porque a nossa terra é a porta de Lisboa.
Dedicado a todos os pontinhenses que não têm vergonha de o ser, em especial o Vieira, engenheiro da NASA em Houston, e o Maurício, veterinário em Glasgow. Dois homens que sempre que lhes perguntam de onde são eles dizem que são de uma terra perto de Lisboa... mas também a todos os que escondem e se esquecem que o que importa não é o sítio onde se nasce, mas o que nos tornamos. Se têem vergonha, não devia ser da terra, mas de vós mesmos.

Life is life, mate.

You Are Definitely Not a Jerk Magnet

You can spot a jerk very easily, and you know to stay away from these loser guys. Your biggest problem? Noticing all the jerks that your girlfriends are dating!

Are You a Jerk Magnet?

OH MEU DEUS COMO É VERDADE!

E é verdade. Tenho uma péssima tendência para homens amorosos... e para lhes pôr uns patins pouquíssimo tempo depois. Sem 15 dias de aviso.

Já lá diria uma ilustre desconhecida... "Women by nature, bitch by choice."

Idealist

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When the head of state didn't play guitar
Not everybody drove a car
When music really mattered and when radio was king
When accountants didn't have control
And the media couldn't buy your soul
And computers were still scary and we didn't know everything

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When pop stars still remained a myth
And ignorance could still be bliss
And when God saved the queen she turned a whiter shade of pale
My mom and dad were in their teens
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stocked
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand me downs
And playing games meant kick arounds
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In '77 and '69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

I was born too late into a world that doesn't care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

Sabdi Thom, "I Wish I Was A Punkrocker (With Flowers In My Hair), 2007

(eu costumo dizer que nasci no século errado... sou uma idealista perdida :) )

Pequenas coisas

Conheço de cor o som dos teus passos, o tom do teu assobio, e até mesmo a melodia que tens o hábito de entoar. Conheço o som da tua gargalhada, todos os moldes da tua voz. Trago na memória as rugas da tua testa, quando a franzes, descontente, e as covinhas que fazes quando sorris, e rejuvenesces. Sei como são as tuas mãos, esguias e fortes, que não hesitas em estender para ajudar. Decorei todas as cores que vivem nos teus olhos, que mudam de tom consoante a luz ou o estado de espírito.
Conheço a tua maneira de andar, a forma como pegas na caneta, a tua caligrafia. Sei que não gostas de caipirinhas, sei que tabaco fumas, que música gostas. Sei que filmes aprecias, sei que não gostas de ler, sei que adoras conduzir. Sei que nasceste de manhãzinha, sei onde moras e com quem vives.
Sei que és inseguro, doce, afável e prestável. Sei que te escondes, que és gozão e que às vezes não reparas que magoas as pessoas.
Fecho os olhos e conheço o teu cheiro, o teu riso, o teu calor. Oiço-te pensar e sei o que vais responder antes de te fazer a pergunta.
Vê só, tudo o sei sobre ti, e mesmo assim não te conheço.

by Chronic Writer

Keep the faith

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost.

For my god daughter , hoping that she won't forget her journey, all the miles she need, have and want to travel. Keep your chin up, search for your inner strength, keep the faith and bear in mind that you do not need to travel that road alone.
I'm proud of you... my tiny-little batwoman :D

Hope

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

Lee Ann Womack - I Hope You Dance, 2000


A long time ago, a good friend told me that when we love someone, we simply wish enough for the loved one.

I don't wish anything for my true friends. I believe them, so I have hope. And that is enough.

To my little sister... finally, a cientist! I am truly proud of you. :)