bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow

Woke up at 5.30am, thought about life watched some Friends and power napped for a bit and is now sat here with the Annie soundtrack , a word document and a black coffee.


in 16 days


living in a fantasy, don't even know reality

too drunk to remember

The Saturdays, McFly, Green Day and I spent some time at the gym in the early hours of the day:

Beachtime in beautiful weather with beautiful lady. She was flowery and I was sweaty.

In the failure to make swedish mudcake, as we had no chocolate, we panic-made a banana cake which was better than all the orgasms in the world. We did good.

Hot dog escaping the heat in the windy window.

And now The Kings of Leon and I are sitting here caressing my new found friend, a little necklace we found in the sand.
We love each other.

schnuggle schnuggle!

Went over to China to hang out with the second prettiest dog on the block for a bit. Look at that gorgeous face, you just wanna put your face in her fur and snuggle snuggle!


I love

I love the noise of the planes flying in just above our rooftop from all directions, all corners of the world to land just outside the city center. I love the broken mirror on the street outside the house, it makes me think that someone was brave enough to risk 7 years of unluckiness just to maybe be able to see him or herself clearly in one of the million reflections down there. I love to hear different languages on every corner of the neighborhood, it reminds me of a globalized united world. I love to pick up new words from Portuguese cartoons, even though it probably is something a 5 year old would say cause we never really grow old, do we? And I love, yes I do..
I love.


It would, wouldn't it?

Wouldn't it be fun if scientists announced that there is really no medicin in the world but plain sugar pills with no effect and all outcomes and cures are only placebo effects our bodies have experienced by itself?

Yes that would be fun.

posted from Bloggeroid


see you soon

Sending the computer to a spa for 4 days. Trading the word documents for notebooks, the late night movies for novels and facebook for letters. Vi ses!


guys, we need to talk. . .

in her vintage Hilfiger

Legs crosses, chewing frenetically on two Trident strawberry, fiddling with her mind. Deadline is at midnight - when the clock hits 12 a new section is being closed. Tomorrow she sets her mind on the next but first, a little coffee, shall we?

mellow inspiration

". . .I shake my head, smile and stroke the papers in my hand in hope to find the last remaining warm spot, unfortunately they have gone cold but it's quite ok as I know the magic has to be broken at some point in order for me to appreciate it again next time,
yet I can't help but imagine the ultimate satisfaction of eternally warm papers. . ."


off to dinner



(whatafuck happened to dreams, love, ambition?)


Death on the Nile p.20

There was something else beside laughter in her eyes.
Hercule Poirot shook his head doubtfully. "She cares too much, that little one," he said to himself.
"It's not safe. No, it is not safe."



up there, where she can be herself

From the roof top in filthy filthy heat she spots speed boats down on the river, cars making their way over the bridge to the other side in what from the distance looks like slow-motion. A palm tree is waving back and forth in the light breeze further down in front of the majestic old white 4 story building, distant voices argue down the street and the Jesus statue on the other side of Tejo is rising extra tall today. Up in the privacy of the roof she feels calm, at ease, and the city never looks better as from above.

A Weekend Tale

Once upon a time 7 little people had a wonderful dinner on a Friday night. They ate shrimps, shark, home made chocolate mousse and drank lovely wine. After 3 hours of "mmmmmhhhh!!!" they snuggled with tourists and drank morangoskas until their tongues turned black in the midst of Bairro Alto and when the early hours lurked around the corner, two girls walked home in the fresh air.

(Not) The End



turned my back for a while

Adapting to new routines and new ways, it's been a little up and down and inside out. But now we're on track towards what will be fan-fuckin-tastic. I'm following my yellow brick road, and won't turn my back again



I wanna celebrate and live my life

It's just gonna be us two, are we enough?
Kid, we're too much.


Reggio Emilia

The Hundred Languages of Childhood

The child
is made of one hundred.
The child has
A hundred languages
A hundred hands
A hundred thoughts
A hundred ways of thinking
Of playing, of speaking.
A hundred always a hundred
Ways of listening of marveling of loving
A hundred joys
For singing and understanding
A hundred worlds
To discover
A hundred worlds
To invent
A hundred worlds
To dream
The child has
A hundred languages
(and a hundred hundred hundred more)
But they steal ninety-nine.
The school and the culture
Separate the head from the body.
They tell the child;
To think without hands
To do without head
To listen and not to speak
To understand without joy
To love and to marvel
Only at Easter and Christmas
They tell the child:
To discover the world already there
And of the hundred
They steal ninety-nine.
They tell the child:
That work and play
Reality and fantasy
Science and imagination
Sky and earth
Reason and dream
Are things
That do not belong together
And thus they tell the child
That the hundred is not there
The child says: NO WAY the hundred is there--

Loris Malaguzzi
Founder of the Reggio Emilia Approach

Montijo by night, and in my heart

With a beer in one hand and the whole world in the other we went up and down the street of one of the most beautiful cities I've ever experienced, taking in culture and honesty. We went on rides during the fare, we shared thoughts down the river and awaited bulls that were fashionable late 3 hours, so we decided to journey back to Lisbon in the vibrant Portuguese night. We can snuggle with bulls another day.