Today after a very long day of 5:00 lunches due to oversleeping, coffee and house hunting, we settled down in a cozy neigborhood bar downtown and had acouple of beers. Correction, André had a couple of beers due to my patheticness in all that is drinking and related.. I settled on my one cup and ending pack of cigarettes. Somewhere in this we began a dialogue on the reasons we should run away from this country. We mutually decided that in any case being in such a city as New York or London doesn't really require an explination. As the conversation depthend a certain hidden nostalgia grew fiercly in me to the point in which I longed for anything as incomplex as a familiar smell, such as a winter pine tree, cold and sharp to the throat.
As soon as I arrived home I was lucky enough to catch Vanessa online. She was telling me about her upcoming move to Brazil and offered me her job in Holland as an Au Pair, as she knew I had been searching for a job abroad since I can remember. Although at the moment I long for my beloved California, Europe does not sound bad at all. Infact, I miss the long sidewalks and the tall houses. I miss having a reason to wear three coats and go out for coffee under a grey abyss just to feel the exoticness of my newfound freedom. Yes, I could very well settle for Holland at a time like this. For now, I will go off to make myself some breakfast and get prepped up for my little trip to the orphanage. Doing what I can where I can for now..
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Cumpliaños
Officially, as of 12:01 yesterday, I became a legal voting citezen. Of all my birthdays, this was perhaps the most akward. It started differently than most birthdays of mine have ever began. No Mom, no Dad, no surprise cakes or balloons. Not even my own room, my own bed. I spent the whole day with people I didn't even know existed less than a month ago in places I never dreamed I would be acouple weeks ago. People I thought would be with me today have either parted to their own paths and sent birthday wishes through a brief word, or simply vanished from my life in ways I could not have imagined. This has been a perfect way to begin the lessons of being an official adult. I could not have chosen better words while seated in the far corners of a Cigar stand, sipping a coffee, lighting a fag and discussing the Steinbeck books in the bookstands near the Frank Sinatra presentation, surrounded by adults in suits. It was overall a cold realization of the path I have consequently landed on. As I took the bus near dusk, it was any other day in the lives of the hundreds of faces that had just spent there saturday behind a counter taking food orders in a rediculous red and yellow uniform that probably include some species of embaressing hats, and they could give a crap if it was my birthday today or not. I arrived in the apartment to find it dark, and empty. I circled it to find a perhaps last bit of childhood spirit in me, expecting to find any token of gratituted by my parents, letting me know they wished they could be here, etc. While partially bumbed about my so far 'awsome' 18th birthday, I came across a floating happy birthday balloon tied to an envelope labled, "With love from Mom, Dad, and Patrick. Glued to the string was a card my mother had made with birds and decorations, wishing me the most happiness and an opurtune of change in my life. Indeed..
Hoping to discover a card, letter, or any words that would have possibly boosted my glummy mood, I opened the envelope to find a counted 180 reais. I set the envelope on my bed, and cried. I cried for me, I cried for my parents, I cried for people who couldn't be with me today, I cried for who forgot about me today. I cried for the birthdays to come, for what I didnt deserve, for who I wish I could hug and tell how much I love, for whom I wish I could erase from my mind, for whom I wish would call me to wish me a happy birthday. Truthfully, they don't have to remember my birthday. My birthday is an excuse in form of an astrological 24 short hours to remind the world I exist and I have today 18 years ago to prove it. Remember me, write to me, though I have probably not written to you. Never forget me.. and wish me luck.
Hoping to discover a card, letter, or any words that would have possibly boosted my glummy mood, I opened the envelope to find a counted 180 reais. I set the envelope on my bed, and cried. I cried for me, I cried for my parents, I cried for people who couldn't be with me today, I cried for who forgot about me today. I cried for the birthdays to come, for what I didnt deserve, for who I wish I could hug and tell how much I love, for whom I wish I could erase from my mind, for whom I wish would call me to wish me a happy birthday. Truthfully, they don't have to remember my birthday. My birthday is an excuse in form of an astrological 24 short hours to remind the world I exist and I have today 18 years ago to prove it. Remember me, write to me, though I have probably not written to you. Never forget me.. and wish me luck.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Introduction
First off, I have just decided to move my blog, mostly because my old one had about 100 useless posts that I am too langurous to revise and/or delete. On the other hand I've been far too neglective of this to pick up where I had left off. But to recommence on a new a page.. here is my current latitude.
If one does not know to which port one is sailing to, no wind is favorable. Indeed.
Today is the day before my birthday. Technically speaking, it is 5 hours exactly untill my birthday(Currently 19:01), and I find myself in a similar position to which I have been for a past 48 hours, and that is situated on a table surrounded by cigarettes, books and questionable brazilian candies I picked up at an equally questionable corner store.. attempting to revise my scholastic history in hopes to find something presentable enough to include in applications for college. Just as I had expected. Essays and questionaires all resuming up to that same question, "Why do you feel you are eligable to enter our school?"
Oh, how I wish I could be propper honest.
Dear Sir or Madam, to whom it may concern. I most probably am not currently eligable to attend your school of high expectancies and great talent (I am leaning heavily towards the Brooks Institute). Infact, my reasons to want to attend your college are purely, or atleast heavily, depthless. I want my own dorm, first of all. And not because I want my own room to declare any type of independence, although that does intregue me, no. I want more than anything to wake up drowned in responsibilities and possibly unfinished book assignments due the day before and look at myself in the mirror knowing the consequences are purely mine, forcing me to take on my own liability, which currently I do not possess. Strongly recomended at my age, I know.
Secondly, any project, obstacle, or challenge presented to me during this time would be strictly constructive to me as an aspiring artist; photographer etc. I must say I enjoy the defiance and find it fully self-constructive. Also, to be in an in enviornment in which people around me are placed on the same track would give me the determination I feel I need to outstand. Honestly I see college more as a challenge than constructive learning. Not to demean the teachings. Its why we go to college, of course. To learn, to build, and to eventually be eligable for a job. Burocratically speaking of course, our college diploma is the material proof that we can be trusted with our material and what we have to offer. This will be needed, I am aware.
Lastly, and the most depthless, opt to bare. In my freshman year of highschool, I was lucky enough to cross paths with an amazing English Litterature teacher, Mr. Richard Branson. Besides teaching me grammar and litterature, he had an effect on me that little teachers have had in my whole life. He made me stride to be an interesting person, and not because of his persistance, but rather the lack there of. He placed in each of our hands a notion of self-respect and self-image by demeaning our own. He was rather careless to anything we said out of context and looked at us with a face that struck us in 10 different places. Like this, every word he said burned in our brains in hopes that they would be teaching us something we would take with us forever. When he spoke of college, he allowed a rare air of nostalgia to reign his eyes and something about him shone.
"Do you honestly believe you have to go to college? The answer is no. You do not have to go to college. College is an option that many people do not opt for. But if you asked me, I would say.. go to college. Not because of the acedemic build-up it offers, but just because they will probably be the best years of your life."
Yes, I go to college. However, I hardly consider living with my parents and having them take me to school from 7:00 - 10:40 "College". To me, the brazilian college curriculum is laughable.
Please, Brooks Institute, pull me out of my academic misery and accept my pathetic essay of acceptance.
Thank you.
If one does not know to which port one is sailing to, no wind is favorable. Indeed.
Today is the day before my birthday. Technically speaking, it is 5 hours exactly untill my birthday(Currently 19:01), and I find myself in a similar position to which I have been for a past 48 hours, and that is situated on a table surrounded by cigarettes, books and questionable brazilian candies I picked up at an equally questionable corner store.. attempting to revise my scholastic history in hopes to find something presentable enough to include in applications for college. Just as I had expected. Essays and questionaires all resuming up to that same question, "Why do you feel you are eligable to enter our school?"
Oh, how I wish I could be propper honest.
Dear Sir or Madam, to whom it may concern. I most probably am not currently eligable to attend your school of high expectancies and great talent (I am leaning heavily towards the Brooks Institute). Infact, my reasons to want to attend your college are purely, or atleast heavily, depthless. I want my own dorm, first of all. And not because I want my own room to declare any type of independence, although that does intregue me, no. I want more than anything to wake up drowned in responsibilities and possibly unfinished book assignments due the day before and look at myself in the mirror knowing the consequences are purely mine, forcing me to take on my own liability, which currently I do not possess. Strongly recomended at my age, I know.
Secondly, any project, obstacle, or challenge presented to me during this time would be strictly constructive to me as an aspiring artist; photographer etc. I must say I enjoy the defiance and find it fully self-constructive. Also, to be in an in enviornment in which people around me are placed on the same track would give me the determination I feel I need to outstand. Honestly I see college more as a challenge than constructive learning. Not to demean the teachings. Its why we go to college, of course. To learn, to build, and to eventually be eligable for a job. Burocratically speaking of course, our college diploma is the material proof that we can be trusted with our material and what we have to offer. This will be needed, I am aware.
Lastly, and the most depthless, opt to bare. In my freshman year of highschool, I was lucky enough to cross paths with an amazing English Litterature teacher, Mr. Richard Branson. Besides teaching me grammar and litterature, he had an effect on me that little teachers have had in my whole life. He made me stride to be an interesting person, and not because of his persistance, but rather the lack there of. He placed in each of our hands a notion of self-respect and self-image by demeaning our own. He was rather careless to anything we said out of context and looked at us with a face that struck us in 10 different places. Like this, every word he said burned in our brains in hopes that they would be teaching us something we would take with us forever. When he spoke of college, he allowed a rare air of nostalgia to reign his eyes and something about him shone.
"Do you honestly believe you have to go to college? The answer is no. You do not have to go to college. College is an option that many people do not opt for. But if you asked me, I would say.. go to college. Not because of the acedemic build-up it offers, but just because they will probably be the best years of your life."
Yes, I go to college. However, I hardly consider living with my parents and having them take me to school from 7:00 - 10:40 "College". To me, the brazilian college curriculum is laughable.
Please, Brooks Institute, pull me out of my academic misery and accept my pathetic essay of acceptance.
Thank you.
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