The End of the Affair

This is the end of the year and there's very little to do. I miss being busy, don't know what to do with my time. Reading, yes, I've read two books in two days, but nothing that special. I'm postponing Saramago, leaving it till it gets really necessary. Tomorrow, perhaps, after a walk.
My other faorite activity saves me. Again, I watched The End of the affair.
Fim de ano, pouca coisa pra fazer, falta de hábito de ficar assim, à toa. What a awonderful film. The book is astonishing, but the film, oh, what a delicious thing. And I'm not even a big fan of Fiennes, but Juliane captivates me more and more.
I'm not sure about what it is that makes me so attached to it. Is it the passion, the lust, the dilemma...
"love doesn't end just because we don't see each other" Sarah tells Bendrix. True. But it can really hurt.
Well, I took the kids to the cinema last week for my son's birthday, there were 8 guys. Pre adolescents they call themselves. The film was Madagascar 2. New shopping center in town. New film, less good than the first one, but funny.
And the thrill of having everybody talking at the same time. Just what I call a happy day. Something to have once in a year.

Fatherhood

Yes Bill Cosby is someone who can deal with this and still make fun of it. I can't. There's lots of things I would like to say about my own father. He was wonderful, always there for me, but never too visible. I could do anything I wanted and he would be there for me whenever I needed. I just want to know what I did wrong. Why wasn't I able to find another one like mine?
How could I? It doesn't depend on my own will. And it's not easy.
Maybe that's just because the weekend is ending. Or it's father's day.
Well, let me try to think about it any other time.

Her anxiety - Yeats

Isn't it true?


Her Anxiety

Earth in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing.
Prove that I lie.

Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death.
Prove that I lie.

William Butler Yeats

Veja meu Slide Show!

Todo o Mundo é um palco: O Limite da Mediocridade Alcançada

Todo o Mundo é um palco: O Limite da Mediocridade Alcançada

Monday

Not all of them, but some Mondays make you feel brand new. That's it. I have been feeling used, misused, abused. And what's left of it?
Nothing.
Not even lessons for not making the same mistake again.
Improving.
That's the word.
I'm always sure it's gonna be better this time.
The worst part of it are the leftovers. A pan here, a book there. The chair, the "armchair".. Oh, what an armchair!
It looks like I was complaining, but now it comes all in such a strong blow.
Memories, most of them good. The thing that always annoys me is that they are so powerful I can't easily forget them.
So nice, so agreeable, the disgust comes later.
OK, I was gonna talk about my actual state of mind.
I'm really feeling useful.
I did a wonderful job last Friday. The thing worked so nice I think I'm gonna have to turn it into a habit.
Talking to different audiences. It is always a challenge and it makes me feel so strong.
To accomplish different tasks. To change moods, places, people.
That's GREAT!
I love it.

Blog da Graça - UOL Blog

Blog da Graça - UOL Blog