Today was like yesterday and tomorrow we'll see. The rain continues to fall here with a cadence monotonous and irritating. I feel it as a fundamental part of a cunning plan to drive me crazy. Falls outside on the street, but I feel it fall into my room, leaving me stuck in the mud and cold. I have a bag for a few days preparing to flee to a warmer country and do not feel comfortable. The days of today and yesterday paralyze me the desire to escape, the appetite for travel, taste of preparations. If you travel this time was no sex me interested in the preliminaries.
The suitcase is open on the bed but the clothes here are not even close. The wind must have them scattered in the streets, the neighborhood, and certainly by this time there is an animal without teeth-being to consider how best to wear socks in my skinny arms. Tomorrow we'll see, but today was like yesterday, and the ceiling of my room and disappeared inside it rains here, leaving me shivering in a quagmire. I do not feel like anything. And though sometimes focus the gaze on a point of no interest whatsoever and while I indulge in a tunnel of lights not very strong and I think rather fuzzy in Istanbul. Abstract me from a wreck of Coimbra margins. A Coimbra adrift in a sea of \u200b\u200bgray clouds pregnant with violent waves. Brings a hole this city and taking in water at a rate that does not have much room to hope the crew. Goodbye
site ... Sometimes I hear people talking and surprised me. Speaking, these strange animals! And why would not I speak? Maybe ask for help, a board that allows them to float through days of rain to a less distant from the river bank. Serving to something more useful than registering commandments! Follow with your eyes closed contours of the paths to the maternal delivery and a dry towel and wrap the light of the cold forever. Tomorrow we'll see if I seek to stick the clothes in the suitcase, but with this sound of thousands of fat droplets falling from the sea, above me and to the metal gutter just to let me leave the body and imagine the Bosphorus. I thirst, dry climate. I need to feel the sun goes out, like a rubber band, my wrinkles and dark circles for many days at sea. In this country there are no tornadoes! Only buildings of poor quality made by sad little men with their schooling. Sorry for the rant those who make and bake the bread that I will chew daily with gazing at the rain outside. Only bread and rain are no longer sufficient. I need a future where the sun can shine.
(Photo: Coimbra, Portugal, September 2007 / Text: Coimbra, Portugal, 17 de Abril de 2008)
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