Learning to Ride

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Lets try this: Friends are like snow. Some months, you’ve got none. And then, when it does start to snow, it just comes down. And then, sometimes, one little snowball, becomes a giant snowball, and then…. you get lost in this metafor… which is really a simile… which is lame.

Cut to today: The Luso-Canadiana old long-time friend has been found. Dinner was eaten by many, complete with paper plates and laughter a-plenty. The comrads of the program and quite the cool. Good friendships ahead filled with all the good stuff that comes along.

The Bike… now without a name, as zorro didnt stick… is being repaired. Or reborn, as it seems more aprapo….. A revolutionary idea: Hit Brakes, Bike Stops. Crazy you say? Watch me!

Rugs! Where can a brother buy some rugs up in this piece? My dawgs be cold!

Important people always have places to be. Suddenly, I must go… anywhere.

10 Minute Gaps

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Well glory be! Good golly! A real grad student, with nothing short of the finest in DELL black sleek technology at his fingertips. Now the dobochery can begin, emails, websites, message boards.. CHATS! The skies the limit really. Though looking up, that limit sure is grey.

Everywhere one walks in Amsterdam people are singing their hearts out. It can make one feel quite left out. (as he types a boat floats by the window with the loudest polka booming from every whoofer and tweater you can imagine. Even more hilarious, not a single, sophisticated, attractive student in this lab flinches. As if to say, “yeah, theres goes the polka boat”)

It rains every other hour. But only for about 10 minutes, which is enough time to go into some store/office/hotel/library and pretend you belong there. Whats with the public’s obsession with the weather anyway… In Lisbon, would bm check the weather? Hell no.. sunny everyday, so whats the point. Now, why bother, cloudy with bouts of rain, no need to check. Three accidents almost took place near Leipsplein (or however you spell it) today, each involved a car, arrogance, and zorro – a recently accuired classic Dutch velocopede belonging (legally I think) to one Mark Rendeiro, residence unknown. In each case bm discovers creative ways of stopping, when one has coaster brakes that are more or less broken. (Why did the kind Algerian Bike salesman not fix such a safety risk?) Insh’ALA (if god wills), I shall survive. (by god, I refer to the golden calf, whom Ive happily worshipped for quite a while)

A man without a home is a like a homeless person who still hasnt come to grips with reality. Second thought, he is a homeless person. No real wisdom there. ‘cept money flies when you live at hotels.

More singing and laughing, it echoes through the quiet computer lab. Why do they sing? Where doth such joy come from? Tis perhaps the herb? Perhaps.

Language Habits

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I like when people travel to somewhere and then when they write you, they greet you in that language… as if to say … “look at me” or “haha look where i am, Ive lost the ability to greet you in English”.

That being said, BONJOUR! Goed Dag (something like that, who knows Flemmish anyway)

Brussels has aged two years since last we were together. She looks older, more mature, maybe a little acne here and there. But nonetheless, she so hot! Not temp. wise… but stuff wise…. I walk down the street like a tourist.. head whissing around left and right. Why? Cause of all the cool nooks and crannies.. the little shops… love’em.

Belguim has always resembled new york in many spots… maybe thats related to the american archetects thats designed the place after the war… architects with little imagination and lots of money.

Amsterdam… shes just north of here… I can feel her waiting for me. Either that or its that soup my cousin made. Yum.

Never carry 50 Kilos of luggage.. its inexcusable, embarrassing, and why would anyone need fifty kilos of stuff? Thats a life rule fro, now on… Im going to weigh all my stuff on a monthly basis… anything over 30 kilos goes to the trash of those in need:

Hooray for the low countries!

The End of Lisbon

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SINGING: All that I need is the air that I breathe

And all that I need are things I don’t need

And all that really matters is what matters to me

And who of you are like me

If I was to smile and I held out my hand

If I opened it now would you not understand

Because you know if I’m to benefit I’ll do everything that I can

And who of you are like me……”

Such a fine tune from such wonderous minds: Blind Melon (All that I need)

Well, the bags are just about packed… just the horn and pc remain.. and those are always the last to be packed, beyond the toothbrush. Tonight is the final dinner for quite some time, with some of the closest Lisbon friends. Savouring the moments.

In the future, there’ll surely be more Lisbon adventures. But the question is, will there ever be one such as this? Will the center of the mark-Universe ever be Lisbon again? It brings that classic question – what after Amsterdam? Which brings the classic answer – Amsterdam first, the world second. Something clever like that.

Worst of all… there will be limited internet contact for the remainer of this week (he thinks). This should be a good thing, because one should never be dependant upon internet like so…. but still… it becomes the lifeblood.

In closing, there are no clever quotes or coffeetable wisdom… there is simply an end… which is actually a begginning. ::looks at clock:: I wonder…. if it will be raining.