Carta aberta à antiga, muy nobre, sempre leal e invicta cidade do Porto.

Querido Porto,

Não imaginas a saudades que eu tive de ti! Tanto mar nos afastou, tanto tempo se passou! Nem sabes o quanto eu sentia falta das tuas pequenas e elevadas ruas, do magnífico esplendor do Rio Douro, da Ponte D. Luís, da Ribeira, da Praça dos Aliados, da Foz, do Dragão, da tua culinária, das tuas meninas, do eterno nevoeiro as quatro horas da manhã. Mas senti mais falta ainda do teu povo, dessa gente simples, mas tão bondosa de alma e coração, sempre a receber os estrangeiros de braços abertos. Dos sorrisos que abundam nas faces dessa gente. Do humor presente na sua fala.

Querido Porto, deves já saber que o nosso futuro é incerto, mas o nosso passado foi uma bela história, cheia alegria e felicidade. Foi em ti que passei os anos mais felizes da minha vida. Foi em ti que me formei na escola da vida, que passei a ver um mundo por outros olhos. É a ti a quem devo agradecer por tantos momentos inesquecíveis.

Não estaremos juntos no futuro. Mas quando eu voltar, acredite em mim, irei te cumprimentar com aquele abraço "quebra-costelas" e com aquele grito retumbante, "Bibá o Puorto, carago!".

 Com muito carinho,

 El Cid

Besos de licor

"Tu risa me da risa
Tu calor me da valor
dame otro beso de licor"

Apetece-me matar o mundo

Aprendi uma coisa com o homem mais velho do mundo.

Nos seus cento e tal anos de vida, ele me disse que a única queixa que ele tem sobre a vida é que ela é demasiadamente curta.

Também me disse que a vida é feita por triunfos e perdas, mas que no fim só lembramos das coisas boas.

A vida é amarga. É áspera. É dura. Mas é a vida.

Existem pessoas que te odeiam. Odeiam-te porque és inteligente, no meio de tanta ignorância. Odeiam-te porque és jovem, no meio de tanta velhice. Odeiam-te porque és uma pessoa politicamente e socialmente correcta (apesar das tuas falhas humaníssimas), no meio de tanta gente corrompida. Odeiam-te porque és uma pessoa bela, no meio de tanta feiúra.

Odeia-te, sobretudo, porque foste amado e elas sofreram nas mãos do ódio de outras pessoas.

Entretanto, essas pessoas só ganham somente quando TU passas a odeia-las. E aí perdes tudo.

Como nem disse um velho sábio muitos anos atrás

"É preciso amar as pessoas, como se não houvesse amanhã"

Boa noite

The Crying Rhinocerous

I'm in love with you.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't express myself on the Net. It's pathetic, it's humiliating, it's sad. It's not me.

Yet I can't help it. I hope one day to tell you how I feel in person.

This is me without my armour - the crying rhinocerous.

I'm sorry.

I hope you are happy for the rest of your life.

No man on earth will ever know how lucky he is to have you.

But you'll never be mine.

Best wishes

Forever yours

The Crying Rhinocerous

On Heroes

Heroes are not nice people. They are do not ride on big, white horses, are NOT physically fit, DO NOT speak several languages, are NOT patient and in love with life. Girls, they are not that knight-in-shining armour myth that you are lead to believe when you're very young. Mates, they are not Superman.

Rather, our heroes are impatient, work many hours a day and get very little respect from other people, They are usually ugly, with very little sex appeal and often, no charm. They paddle up a stream of shit so often and vigorously that our arms feel their tiredness. They are mostly never around, but their presence is always felt. They are rarely kind - unless you have something important to say, you're taking up their time, and therefore deserve to be insulted, you stupid idiot.

But if they were not so extraordinary, to the extent that they influence our lives and gain our respect and admiration, they'd be ordinary. And, in an age where everything follows a certain norm, we need more people who stand out from the crowd and shape our lives and our futures in ever more brilliant ways.

This is a call for more heroes. Please respond. Yours truly, Cid.

On dreams.

Adoro dormir, mas prefiro sonhar acordado. Somente neste estado de lucidez consigo concretizar os sonhos mais profundos.

I love to sleep, but I prefer to dream awake. Only then can I live my dreams.

You've become what you hate and you hate what you've become

Recently, I've been having a bit of a personal crisis: I have slowly transformed into a person with shallow values, no morals and an unbound arrogance regarding other human beings. There's a person in my University like that. And my worst fear of turning into him are slowly materialising.

Dear reader, don't end up like me. Remember your childhood days, when everything was so much simpler? You didn't have to worry about work, money, love, etc. You just lived. You played in the sand during the day and slept during the night. You had no idea about physics and history, yet you remembered all the characters from your favourite TV shows. You woke up early to watch Saturday morning cartoons. You remember your parents, aunts, other adults always speaking badly about someone, yet you were too innocent to understand these type of emotions that plague modern adults and spoil life-long friendships and relations. I guess we lived our childhood with our hearts, whilst as adults we use our brains. Maybe if we remembered that our heart actually exists, and used it from time to time, we could live happier lives instead of the automatic ones we live right now.

In short, it's about being stupid. Smart people survive, stupid people live. Diesel has recently announced this groundbreaking discovery to the masses. Maybe it's time I got with the programme. Perhaps, you should as well. Be stupid!