Octopus´s Garden

The Beatles

I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
In his octopus' garden in the shade

I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus' garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade.

We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head on the sea bed
In an octopus' garden near a cave

We would sing and dance around
because we know we can't be found
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade

We would shout and swim about
The coral that lies beneath the waves
(Lies beneath the ocean waves)
Oh what joy for every girl and boy
Knowing they're happy and they're safe
(Happy and they're safe)

We would be so happy you and me
No one there to tell us what to do
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden with you.

Let it go

Today, I had to go to a place where I didn't really want to go. It was a trip through memory lane. A necessary voyage beneath clothes and photos and gadgets and souvenirs of the one I lost.
If you haven't done it once, I tell you, you're bound to do it someday.
It's one hell of a trip. Difficult, winding, complicated, confused.
You start by seeing, then touching, smelling, hearing and finally thinking.
The hardest one is obviously the last one, cause it brings back all the others at the same time gathered with the thoughts triggered by the senses.
And all of a suden, you're not where you are anymore. You're somewhere else. With someone else.
And for a split second, you are living a different life. But reality strikes. And all you can do is remember. And think. And cry.
I miss so many things and so many people. I know they'll never come back. Either because they're just too far away or too far gone.
I guess I like to travel a lot, but I really don't enjoy much when other people go. Once again, I come to the conclusion that we're here to learn to let go. So there you go.

When I'm sixty-four

Beatles

When I get older losing my hair
many years from now
will you still be sending me a valentine
birthday greeting, bottle of wine
If I'd been out till quarter to three
would you lock the door
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy mending a fuse
when your light have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings, go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Every summer we can rent a cottage on the
Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck, and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
stating point of view
indicate precisely what you mean to say
yours sincerely wasting away
Give me your answer fill in a form
mine forever more
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Fool On The Hill

Beatles

Day after day, alone on the hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.
And he never gives an answer.

But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.

Well on his way, his head in a cloud,
The man of a thousand voices, talking perfectly loud.
But nobody ever hears him,
Or the sound he appears to make.
And he never seems to notice.

But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.

And nobody seems to like him,
They can tell what he wants to do.
And he never shows his feelings,

But the fool on the hill,
Sees the sun going down.
And the eyes in his head,
See the world spinning around.

Leaving. On a jetplane!

To go. It´s the most important thing. No matter how. On foot, by car, by bus, train, boat or plane. Rockets I didn´t test yet. But if there´s anyone with experience in the area, please, fell welcome to share it.While travelling, there´s nothing like walking. To really know a place, to  make your feet touch each and every centimetre of the unknown. But there are distances that feet can´t reach. Either because they´re too tired, or because the time is too short. It doesn´t really matter.So, nothing better then hit the road driving. Taking control of everything. Of your time of departure, of arrival, stopping as many times as you want. Listening to whatever kind of music you choose, as high volumed as desired with no one to complain. And you can sing and yell or just keep as quiet as possible. There´s nothing like driving.But sometimes you don´t have an available car. So, between the bus and the train, I pick the train. But in Brazil, that´s not an option. So, let´s talk about the bus. You just sit there while the guy in front of you reclines his seat into your lap and the child sitting behind is kickboxing the back of your seat. When the bus makes a quick stop, after a 40 hour trip and a four hour mechanical problem in the middle of the cold night, there comes the jackfruit salesman. With a half opened jackfruit.If you´ve never heard of a jackfruit, just know that it has a terrible smell that in that occasion, just spread all over the place. Horrible.But sometimes, there are no other solutions. And there are people, like a friend of mine, that enters, sits and sleeps immediately. Even if a meteor would fall by her side, she´d only wake up on the destination. How lucky!Well, if there´s the train, there´s nothing to think about. On the train you may walk around and strech your legs, eat, go to the toilet and sometimes you don´t even have to pay it. You can also just admire the landscape through the window and perhaps, talk to the person sitting beside you, if he or she is interesting.By the way, in the Netherlands, there´s a paper on the trains where it´s possible to post adds and look after people you´ve meet in a trip sometime before. If I still recall what it said, it was somewhat like this: "I´m from The Hague and she´s from Breda. We had such a pleasant trip, talked about everything, especially about (something very specific that would let her recognise him), but I arrived and we couldn´t exchange phone numbers. I wish I could see her again." After that, that was some information about how to leave a message to the guy on the newspapers main offices. Could you picture this in a bus in Brazil?
Well, moving on, going to the boat. It´s wonderful, but very limited. But with the sun shining and the wind... Facing the waves is one of the few adrenaline situations that I like. What about a ship? Well, like a friend would say, c'est la classe! And a cruise, oulálá!Counting pros and cons, if it is for me to get out of where I am, I´ll go. But my only problem is my biggest addiction: airplanes.
People can say whatever they want, that planes crash every once in a while, that accidents with planes are more fatal then with other transports, there can be the child bumping against my seat or the drunk guy´s stincky feet in yopur face. There´s nothing like flying. I can´t help being on the ground for too long. I need to be in the air. See everything from up above, go further and faster. Nothing can go wrong. "If the cabin air system should fail, oxygen masks will be released from the panel just above your seat". Is there anything more comforting then knowing that your seat can float? It´s the risk you gotta take to discover new things. I have to get a plane urgently!