Answers, troubles and observations on a cold morning

After waking up upside down in my bed at 7 a.m., freaking out over my essays due this week at breakfast, realising I have brewed the blackest coffee in the history of Humanity I realised the answers:

1 - My posters are probably either in
a) the garbage
b) someone's room
c) no other interesting place

(Yeah, I bought new posters, so my mind rested on the issue. My room is now proper and nice with Jimi Hendrix looking at my mirror, very dreamy, and Jim Morrison looking over my bed - to protect me against the monsters in the closet)

2 - People prepare their meals on the superfast microwave that I have issues with. I am such an old-fashioned lady. That is for sure... Heating up the milk on a little pot and hopelessly trying to bake cakes and other unsucessful projects (I swear it's the oven... I will tame it someday)

3 - Ah ah! I know where I will go this summer! I just bought my sweet, (relatively) cheap tickets home for the end of May. In April I am spending a couple of weeks just going to Portland and wondering around in San Francisco. SOmehow I feel like Jack Kerouak is my mentor and I all have to do is take the train... And then I will bagpack around British Columbia. It will be me and my litte pocketbook, and any random strangers I might meet. WHo knows what is out there...

4 - Who reads this? Silly Filipa! You had it on facebook! Everyone you knew could and many were reading it. So, now it is a more mysterious thing. I like that "bottle into the ocean" type of writing. WIth the usual people taking a look once in a while.


Concerns. Concerns.

1 -I have too much work. I have too much work. I am drowning....

2 - I have to read for my Philosophy about Prostitution every week. About relationships, sex, romance, men and women and so on.... I don't know, but I feel that any possibility of a relationship in the next couple of years (whenever I don't have to work since sunrise to sunset!) is spoiled by my now acquired tendency to overanalyse any action and its effects on social held belifs, patriarchal capitalist exploitation and what not. Yep, it's an issue.

3 - I miss people. Too much, too often.

4 - I want to live in a room on top of a building in a Parisian street with a typing machine and a couple of cigars to smoke wearing a XL white blouse, loads of papers all around me, a great idea in mind, a cultural easiness when I go down to the local boulangerie, to class, or to meet that special friend with green eyes and dark French hair.... there's a plan for either
1) a short story
2) a life
3) a surrealistic painting
4) an acid trip



Oh, look at the window,

Here comes the sun!
Time to start the day.

Questions

Oh, I ask, to that overidentified dubiously existent entity(ies) in the sky(/heaven/underground/nature/cosmic dimension)

1 - where are my posters?????

2 - where does everyone in my floor prepare their meals (they're not in the kitchen!) ???

3 - where will I go this summer?

4 - Who reads these things anyways?



Life poses the questions,

sleep holds the answers.

ME and the cruelty of this world - a wondering of Sunday night

What can I say...


Hours and hours in the plane. Hours in the airport, hours and hours in the plane. Look out the window.

White white white white white white territory of northern Canada.

(2 days after)

My whole body is messed up from sleepping on airplanes and I am still tired and sleepping under jet lag.

I didn't believe in jet lag. I had a revelation.

I had to unpack and rearrange all my material possessions again. And, once again, I understand why it is that some people would like to settle down for good. Moving is inconvinient, even painful. It is work, it is memory, it is uneasiness. What can I say... I love it.

A friend asked me a question some months ago.
IS our world more immoral today, than before?

Here I am in my little room, in Vancouver, seeing the snow falling outside, reading my books, freaking out about my dinner and about my classes. Is the world more immoral?

Difficult without going into a moral relativistism kind of wave. But I want to try.
Can we be more...sensitive?

Control has become more capilar, Foucault. So, could it be that atrocities now are so horrible to us becuase they are so blunt, so raw and so plain?





I am going to rearrange my jewelery. I should

the 2009 post

A pedido de muitas famílias... (Portuguese expression that acknowledges that this post was written under requests from ...* many families* = that person that wrote some strange Galician sounding suff on my wall)

It is the first day of the year and I realised I haven't done 2 things since my birthday in November:

A - written to some regular correspondents

B - written on my blog!

Where am I? Right now, Portugal, at my house enjoying the last evening of fireplace, at least 15ºC outside and nothing of schoolwork to do. I will miss this. Tomorrow, Amsterdam and then Vancouver after 9 hours which I hope will enable me to produce a scarf and a hat for myself.

I came home for the holidays after a quite busy exam period (it paid off on the grades). I went to my grandmother's for Christmas and the next day I flew to Paris. Spent the weekend there with my family and met Valerie, her sister, Maria and Kathu for a very nice tea time near the notre Dame. And I also went to the Cinematheque and saw an amzing exhibition : Dennis hooper et le Nouvelle Hollywood. It was like being in Disneyland for me. Just way better.


NEW YEAR

No I didn't party. Yes, I watched a Western on TV. Yes, I drank champagne, had cake and watched the guys on the building in front of mine walking on the roof. It was lovely.

But it meant a bit more this year, maybe... (I am working hard at giving meaning to this socially accepted celebrations). I made a sort of forcible start over.

This Year I had a "How idiotic of me!" moment. A big one. So, I have been working all year to do two things.

1 Get rid of melancholy for no reason and pseudo-teen angst of any kind. no, i don't have to be smiling all the time, but I can be a grown woman about some stuff. This makes me stop annoying friends family and strangers on public transports.

2 Forget. Eliminate. Obliterate from memory.

About the second.
People go on and on about facing reality, facing the truth and your biggest fears. Bla bla bla.
I disagree. You can forget stuff. No, not alchool or drugs. That just makes it blurry! you got to work hard at mentally lying to yourslef so that you will eventually have made a new psychological truth. Pretend it never happened to yourself! And then, it never did!

to quote Morrison. hatred is a very underestimated feeling. Why hate, why feel disgusted at thoughts. just cut it off your memory.

And if others remind you, eliminate their messages, never answer their calls,etc. After all, silence is golden! And you can keep the silence, you have the right to it.

Wow, sounds like a cheap self-help book. But it is a stance about life that I am embracing and that I truly believe gives us a stronger sense of authorship and control about our story.

must go, pack my bags. pack up the show, cross the sea...



Someday I will be an old lady with long white hair and rose shades.

And I will have pearls around my neck and a turtle on my bed.