Life should be devoted to change
to surprise
I have found that
there is a boundless longing
for surprise
in everybody

I will welcome the upbeat
the syncopated twist
the unlikely happening
the crazy, unprepared laughter
I will receive surprise
with generous, open arms

I will unleash change myself
altering your recipes
subverting your formulae

Who knows?
By relocating your coordinates
I even may find you

The beautiful, gentle waltz on this song attempts to change the world. A man caged in years of routine comes to his woman. Instead ignoring her in a corner, he takes her and stares at her differently, he invites her to waltz. So she makes herself pretty, transformed by his will, by her own surprise. They dance embraced, tenderly glancing to each other, still unbelieving. But the waltz goes to the street, in a frenzy of kisses, and everyone around is infected with joy, change, and dance. Dance local, love global.

Valsinha (Vinicius de Moraes - Chico Buarque, 1970)

Um dia ele chegou tão diferente do seu jeito de sempre chegar
Olhou-a dum jeito muito mais quente do que sempre costumava olhar
E não maldisse a vida tanto quanto era seu jeito de sempre falar
E nem deixou-a só num canto, pra seu grande espanto convidou-a pra rodar
Então ela se fez bonita com há muito tempo não queria ousar
Com seu vestido decotado cheirando a guardado de tanto esperar
Depois o dois deram-se os braços com há muito tempo não se usava dar
E cheios de ternura e graça foram para a praça e começaram a se abraçar
E ali dançaram tanta dança que a vizinhanca toda despertou
E foi tanta felicidade que toda cidade enfim se iluminou
E foram tantos beijos loucos
Tantos gritos roucos como não se ouvia mais
Que o mundo compreendeu
E o dia amanheceu
Em paz


Thinking on something to draw you to me
anything that impels you to draw me
If I could only find the word
that turns everything upside down

Not an easy task
but a delicious one:

Even when I fail, I enjoy knowing
you will take my words inside
at a later time,
and zeroing the delay effect
your smile will travel
in my direction
through space

It's called the butterfly effect:
I move my wings here
and sometime later
your thinking stops for a while



I sneak through the cracks
I made myself on the circles of time
like the rain
or even softer
wishing intently that you don't ever fix that hole
willing that I'm forever enabled
to enter your reign

Stepping in your lines and circles
being somehow drawn as I walk
my mind wanders
creating the endless tales
our fantasies may rewind
and play 
one by one
for ever

And sometimes you will wonder
what I am made of
whether I am a pixelated dream
or just real rain fighting its way
through the cracks



Carnivals are merry parties, true. They can be crazy, rebellious, visually compelling, even cathartic. Or all these things together.

Carnivals are a hell of a metaphor, one that explodes in all directions and hits everybody, in the sweetest of ways.

Second Life is the meta-carnival. Or can be. It certainly defies standard definitions, hence the difficulty of conveying to outside people the essence of what you can find  inside.

Identity, personality, physicality, truth, play, trust, risk...These are words you'd need to define communication in SL. Whichever turn your adventure takes, chances are it will be unpredictable. Feel welcome and breath deeply.


swimming with mermaids
(well...that's pretty standard)
dancing reggae with vampires
riding a horse-car with a shapeshifter
speaking to an angel
(who denied being one but I knew, I knew)
seating side by side with a she-wolf
(who just returned from pack-hunting)
attending seminars given by robots
talking (airborne) to an architect of wonders
following breathlessly someone
who showed me the world in a few minutes



Do you realize
that the bond we have created
is not a bond that ties
but a bond that frees?



Should you ever find someone
who teaches you
who really teaches you
the science of joy

Try not to question the master's appearance
Try not to question the master's ways

Fifty Ninth Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)
Paul Simon

Slow down, you movin' too fast
You gotta make the MORNING last
Just kickin' down the cobblestones
Lookin' for fun and
Feelin' groovy____________

Hello lampost
Whatcha knowin?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'
Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me?
Doo Bee Doo Doo,
Feelin' groovy____________

Got no deeds to do
No promises to keep
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all its petals on me...
Life, I love you,
All is groovy____________________


When I was a boy, my father went on a trip and brought me a single record. Remember? The old little ones.
Supertramp. “Give a little bit” (Hit and pop classic since).
The side B was “Downstream”.

you give,
you share,
then you flow.

I loved it. I bought the LP, played until it broke, many years later bought the CD (“because they last 100 years without losing quality”).

I love it, it gives me peace and pleasure. Not that statements like “You are the reason I was born” fit my experience exactly. But I can understand it’s a pretty thing to say to your loved one, if you really feel it. 

Downstream. Love. A statement of love.
Eternal, faithful, ready, radiant, alive, grateful, outdoors, whole.
And the boat, the stream, the placidness and fullness of saying that. Of sharing.

Just piano and voice, the steady calm of the steady beat, the renewed glance of tenderness and affection of those who chose to stare at eternity in good company, navigating through the circles of time. Sailing downstream.

(Supertramp. Even for the quietest moments, 1977)

Took a boat Sunday, down by the sea
It just felt so nice, you and me
We didn't have a problem or a care, oh no
And all around was silence, everywhere

You are the reason I was born
Be with you through all seasons
I'll always hear you when you call
We'll keep the love light shining
Through each night and day
A lonely life behind me
Oh what a change you've made

So down here on the ocean, we will stay
We will stay. We will stay.
Went through a lot of changes
Turned a lot of pages
When I took a boat on Sunday

To know you as I know you now
That is all I need
And we will get along somehow
If we both believe

So down here on the ocean we will stay
We will stay. We will stay.
Went through a lot of changes
Turned a lot of pages
When I took a boat on Sunday



Just a normal day. This song has haunted me for years
Don't know why
Never cared to understand the words
but the song's tired melancholy was enough to haunt me.

Today I heard with attention
since I wanted to understand
It looks to me like the monologue
of a bipolar man
A does not understand why he's sad
why his world does not make sense
B listens but he's not interested
nor wants to understand better
He prefers to go on without yielding
to A's crap.

For purely chromatic reasons, A's text is in blue (ahah)
If you listen with headphones you may notice that both textes
are sung by different voices, and that
each one comes
through a different speaker
Metaphorical recording techniques!

But I realize that what really haunts me
is the string arrangement
To me, it lends the song the right touch
of strangeness and overwhelming feeling
When the sax solo comes
There are tears washing down the night
and redemption seems possible.
(other thoughts welcome, as always)

Just A Normal Day 
Supertramp (Crisis? What Crisis? 1976)

Woke up cryin' with the break of dawn, and,
I looked out at the sky,
The air was still, yet all the leaves were falling,
Can you tell me why?

Well, I just don't know the reason,
I don't know what to say,
it just seems a normal day,
and, I've got to live my own life,
I just can't spare the time,
But, you've got strange things on your mind

Well, I just feel, that every minute's wasted,
My life is unreal,
And anyway, I guess, I'm just not rated,
At least twice, that's how I feel

Well, I just don't know the reason,
I don't know what to say;
It just seems a normal day
And, I've got to live my own life,
I just can't spare the time;
But, you've got strange things on your mind.

Eat a lot, sleep a lot,
Passing the time away,
Maybe I'll find my way,
Who am I kidding?
Yes, it's just myself



Second Life is fun, really.
I could advocate its uses from a thousand perspectives, believe me.
Maybe millions.
But today I just feel like the simple approach.
Fun. Good times. Plain romanticism.
Hey, Romanticism is never plain if it's romantic
Seaside rendez-vous.
Give me a kiss!

(Queen, 1976)
(the video is one of the most charming things I've seen lately; incidentally, I'm in love with the image of the ice cream girl at minute 1:36; please watch the whole thing and enjoy!)

Seaside whenever you stroll along with me
I'm merely contemplating what you feel inside
Meanwhile I ask you to be my Clementine
You say you will if you could but you can't
I love you madly
Let my imagination run away with you gladly
A brand new angle highly commendable
Seaside rendezvous

I feel so romantic can we do it again?
Can we do it again sometime I'd like that
Fantastic c'est la vie madame et monsieur
And at the peak of the season
The Mediterranean
This time of year it's so fashionable

I feel like dancing in the rain
Can I have a volunteer?
Just keep right on dancing
What a damn jolly good idea
It's such a jollification as a matter of fact
So 'tres charmant' my dear

Underneath the moonlight
Together we'll sail across the sea
Reminiscing every night
Meantime I ask you to be my Valentine
You say you'd have to tell your daddy if you can
I'll be your Valentino
We'll ride upon an omnibus and then the casino
Get a new facial start a sensational
Seaside rendezvous so adorable
Seaside rendezvous ooh
Seaside rendezvous
Give us a kiss!

THE FIFTH ELEMENT (Only for my eyes)

Airborne, nothing touches you
Nothing but the beams
that travel at speed light and
(with no appreciable delay)
will depart from my eyes
to grace over your canals and forests 
and hills

Remain calm dear
Your elements will be of no assistance to you

See Earth, for instance, far below
You will not have its comforting touch
You will not say:
“Earth: sustain my body, don’t let it go… your center (the center of the Earth)…
…Let me feel the sweet and scented grass…
…Let me sense your gentle and fresh touch…
…against my naked feet”
No, Goddess, not tonight

Forget the Fire, too
You will not command:
Fire, you shall bring warmth to my skin…
…comfort my cold feet, rub my back…
…create the spark that will return…
…the lost caress of your heat to my chest…
…Warm my body, Fire,
…and make your nest in my belly …
No, your body will not meet
That comforting lukewarm feel tonight
You will need to wait a little

Water is not a option either, I'm afraid
You will not tell the wet from the dry
You will not sense the deep corridor
that playful drop is making between your breasts
You will not track the drop’s progress
Not the way I do
There is no drop to sense, in fact

As for the Air
You could think “I am certain the breeze will touch me
But there’s no wind tonight, remember dear
Nothing to move you, to caress you
With its immaterial hand
Nothing to comb
The flexible palm tree
Of your body

No, get used to the idea
Tonight nothing will touch you, dear

Nothing but my regard



In my way to work
and despite a sleepless night
(or maybe because of it)
I have sensed my senses

They were there
all of them
I even felt that one
the mythical and elusive
the Sixth

I met my senses
thanks to your elements

Boy isn't it good!


The objective observation
of my reality and surroundings
points unequivocally
to the fact
(section incontrovertible facts)
that I am nobody but me
so to speak

(big yet coming
keep caution)
lately I find this "me"
doesn't tell the whole story
even we could say
it sadly fails to provide
an explanation

Yet still
we won't need
to resort to
split personality
or bi-polarity
or any disorder
in order
to get myself explained
to your satisfaction

It's easy:
just remember that
my depth
your depth
anybody's, really
(let's put it clear
so we all understand)
are boundless
definitely too deep
to fit
in a sad and clumsy and pretentious little word
like "me"

"Me"! Get lost!
Welcome RAINBOW!


I promise
I'll never say again
(even think again)
that I have understood 
the full measure of something

For this is
highly speculative

I'll be contented
with keeping an open heart
wide open
(as open as
clinically advisable)
so that a fraction
of your beauty
and your wisdom
(a tiny part is great)
a mere 0.000000001 %
can find its way through...

...and stay there
as long as possible
(with some luck,
even for ever)



I'd wish this verse was mine:

There is no guy
in the sky


Like bubbles in your sea
Reaching the surface
And dying

So the sounds
Of that music box of yours
go in a whirlwind

Tiny bells joined together
By a forgotten magician
To make the tune
That will ever play
On your mind
On your soul

When you’re idle
Singing your song
Combing your hair
On your rock
Watching the waves
Come and…
          … go by



I've said this before. Easy does it. Better try the gentle approach. That includes some degree of firmness, but forget brute force. Relax the muscles that you used to fight.

Easy does it. That peaceful force can surely transform the world around you, maybe even transform the world at large.

Second Life has a connection with that, or at least it has for me. Also, for some unknown reason this song talks about that effortless trip of the mind. I fly when love isn't shy, and usually find smart individuals willing to embark in similar trips.

How am I get so lucky?

Well, part of it is intuition. I can´t explain.

For the rest, there is a trick: I tend to look for individuals, not groups, people who seem to be at ease with themselves, contemplating nature. 

Then I say "Hi". Usually they say "Hi" too. When they not, I laugh inside, and write monologues. Ahah.  

(Roger Dogson, Supertramp, Crisis, What Crisis? 1976)

And if my heart's had wings,
I'd be the bird that sings,
I'd fly where love isn't shy
And everyone is willing to try.
And if we had the time,
And time's so hard to find,
I can't believe what you say,
Start sending those shadows away,
And if you know who you are,
You are your own superstar,
And only you can shape the movie that you make,
So when the lights disappear;
And only the silence disappears,
And only the silence is near,
Watch yourself; easy does it, easy while you wait.

And if you know who you are,
You are your own superstar
And only you can shape the music that you make.
So when the crowds disappear,
And only the silence is here
Watch yourself, easy does it, easy does it, easy while you wait

THE WEATHER CHANNEL (It's all right)

Life can be a fight, if we choose so. Not talking here about the "outer" battles, the ones we fight in order to get food, dress and pay the bills. I mean the inner ones, like wishing very badly something like a sunny day, or feeling  down because it rains or our favourite restaurant in closed because it is Monday, don't you remember silly.

Recently, I have been exercising not to fight. While in a short vacation in Galicia (Spain), the weather was in a rainy mood, for days, allowing just short and miraculous moments of sunshine. I decided those moments would warm my heart while the rain would cleanse my sight. I chose to suspend my wish and to embrace whatever change that could come in my way.

Don't mind the rain, don't mind snow / Don't mind nothing,

If I know / You will be right here with me

The result was a very simple happiness, probably due to the fact that my fighting mental muscles were truly relaxing for the first time, after a lifetime of flexing them like a madman.

I'm in the process to apply that to other aspects of life. After all, a third rate spa hotel felt to me like a heavenly paradise, and I ate the best Spanish omelet in a restaurant I would have dismissed before as mediocre ... Not fighting improved my senses' performance.  A lot.

To illustrate my point on weather, many songs I've known for decades are coming to help me, revealing new meanings as they unfold. I've chosen (oops, they have chosen themselves) these two:

POOR BOY (Supertramp, Crisis? What Crisis? 1976)

Can you believe me when I say, there's nothing I like better
Than just to sit here and talk with you
Although I'll rant and I'll rave about one thing and another
The beauty of it is so pure to me
Though I'm a poor boy
I can still be happy
As long as I can feel free

So many people I know, are getting old way too early
- Well are you feelin' kind of weary
Just to impress you with the money they make
- You'd better, you'd better change your theory
One drop of rain, they complain
And it's the same about the wages they're earning
Well, that is not the way I'm gonna be
Don't mind the rain, don't mind snow
Don't mind nothing, If I know
You will be right here with me

We're gonna state our only point of view
How can we all afford to live like you?
This simple life is simply not enough
We have appearances we must keep up

Poor Boy, If that's the way it's gotta be
Poor Boy, It's you for you and me for me
Poor Boy

I've tried all I can, understanding all the fools and all their money
When half of what they've got you know they never will use
Enough to get by suits me fine, I don't care if they think I'm funny
I'm never gonna change my point of view
Don't mind the rain, don't mind snow
Don't mind nothing, if I know
You will be right here with me
All the way

Don't mind the rain, don't mind snow
Don't mind nothing, if I know
You will be right here with me

HERE COMES THE SUN (George Harrison, Abbey Road, 1969)

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right 



You guided me

(oh so professionally)

Through Aphrodite’s path

So many marvels to watch
Chorals, fishes, caves
Volcanic sands, beaches, pools
Mysteries and beauties
Boundless fantasy.

If you wanted to know
The most precious treasures
that (by your hand)
I found there:
that sense of play
that keeps haunting me
the laughter
the freedom

Hey, but Aphrodite’s
Was a tricky one
Very tricky that path was:

The guide's beauty
Competed heavily with
All wonders around us
Making difficult
a full appreciation
of detail

Stay still, mermaid/angel
Stop at least a bit
So that the humble 
tourist of waves
Can either take a breath
Or exhale his last one

For ever


Around the world in 80 days...

...or Around the day in 80 worlds?

Courting the unpredictable.
If anything, that describes best the Second Life experience.
Sure, you can make a plan
and stick to it
but at the end something or someone appears
that changes everything
Taking you underwater
(not to worry, breathing won't be a problem)
or to have the ride of your life
in a bright orange carrousel
You may sit still and talk
or run after someone
trying not to lose any detail

So you learn to surrender to Lady Sweet Coincidence
Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream
embrace the irrational and start your voyage.

Around the day in 80 worlds

I go out to work on Monday morning
Tuesday I go off to honeymoon
I'll be back again before it's time for sunnydown
I'll be lazing on a Sunday afternoon
Bicycling on every Wednesday evening
Thursday I go waltzing to the Zoo
I come from London town
I'm just an ordinary guy
Fridays I go painting in the Louvre
I'm bound to be proposing on a Saturday night
There he goes again
I'll be lazing on a Sunday lazying on a Sunday
Lazing on a Sunday afternoon

(QUEEN, Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon- A Night at the Opera, 1974)
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