Trash

Sometimes I can't help feeling used and thrown away.

Sad that after a while love becomes rage.

I guess it's true: there's no space for friendship after breaking up.

your feelings i can't help but rape them
i'm sorry i don't feel the same
my heart inside is constantly hating
i'm sorry, i just throw you away

Foreigner

Já me perguntaram porque motivo às vezes escrevo em inglês (cada vez mais, é certo). Simplesmente porque gosto.

Desde cedo que tenho interesse por línguas e o facto de não poder usar frequentemente o meu inglês leva-me a preferir muitas vezes a escrita nesse idioma, quanto mais não seja para praticar.

Embora não saiba tudo e embora haja quem o fale melhor que eu, o por vezes ser elogiado pela minha fluência deixa-me satisfeito. Ouvir do meu tutor algo como "ouve lá, viveste no estrangeiro?" quando ligo para fornecedores estrangeiros é muito gratificante. Não é que ganhe mais por isso, mas a satisfação é recompensadora o suficiente.

Tenho pena de não ter aproveitado as minhas aulas de alemão, mas é uma das minhas metas: ser, também, fluente na língua de Kant. 

I Stand Alone

Girls ego's barely scenic. I mean, they surely believe their self-made lie that they're some kind of earthly goddesses and we, man, are some sort of maggots whose only purpose is to bow them.

One sentence I've heard more than once and by many females (... it might be like a new style) is that "you (boys) can't catch up with us"... It's not that we can't catch them up: it's just that we like different things. However, they assume that if we don't party as much or dance as much or if we're not available whenever they want us to be of if we don't answer the phone or... we're week.

As for me, I rather lay on my couch than to headbang on any disco.

you're always hiding behind your so-called goddess
so what
you don't think that we can see your face
been resurrected back before the final falling
and i'll never rest until i can make my own way

Flood

A few excoriations on my arms, legs and chest and a broken rib... that's the balance of the first accident with my new bike.

With the missing skin I can handle well, but the rib... Jesus, it pains a lot, specially when I sneeze or cough!

Thankfully, the bike is still in one piece. Anesthetics, come unto me!!

this ground is not the rock i thought it to be
thought i was high
thought i was free
thought i was there
divine destiny

Two Weels

Finally bought my new bike. She's a pretty!

Sorry, I rather ride her than write shit here.

See you later... or not!

Wimo Tongues

WIMO is a german tongue manufacterer.

... well, a tongue is a device specially designed to grab, lift and transport heavy-loads hanging from a crane and we own as much as three different types of tongues at the mill, with a total of seven devices.

As they lift as much as 60 tonnes, is normal that, after 15 years in service, we pretend to conduct some even tighter non-destructive structural tests than those periodically run in order to avoid accidents.

One of those testes demands a technical drawing of a bolt... and we don't possess that same drawing. So, there they had me, two weeks ago, kindly asking for a copy of the tongue drawings. On the following day, I had their reply, kindly refusing to give us the drawings because of internal policies (fear of copying their devices and etc...). Ok...

I kindly replied and, with a longer explanation, asked just the drawings of the suspension bolts. Didn't get my reply until last Wednesday and since I have my own deadlines, grabbed the phone and reminded them of my query.

Today I finally got my reply... and again they denied it.

Instead, they kindle proposed themselves to conduct the tests... forgetting that it would demand a halt of the tongue for a much longer period with production losses of high expression (and subsequent money losses).

Another reply. This time, I wasn't as kind as before, and I showed them how we were finding this an outstanding situation. I can't force them to give me the drawings and if they don't give up, we'll have no other choice but to send them the bolts, but at least I deserve a proper justification for that.

Neither me or any of my colleagues found this situation logical, specially considering that we have the complete drawings of all the other tongues but that one. This really doesn't make any sense... and if I was amazed with it's technology, I confess my disappointment with it's manufacturer.

Bah!

Anyway, It was very pleasant to write an aggressive mail with my tutor's approval.

Pollution

I realized earlier today that pollution is not only harmful because of the smoke itself and the consequent greenhouse effect.

One residue of burning fossil fuels is water, which's also dumped into the atmosphere through every smoke pipe.

Has anyone wondered where does that water go into?! In fact, in average as much water as carbon oxides are attained when burning fuels...

Imagining the complete burning of an average Diesel fuel (since Diesel is a mixture of several hydrocarbon molecules, let's consider the average number of atoms as C15H32...), it needs 23 molecules of oxygen per molecule of fuel, resulting in 15 molecules of carbon dioxide and 16 molecules of water.

This is obviously an empiric result, since the complete burn is never achieved and many other species are present in air (mainly nitrogen) resulting in other residues like nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide and ash.

Either way, it doesn't get that far from reality. Curiously, never heard anyone raising this issue... Maybe this discover can finally get me my Nobel prize.

Anyway, is good to know that we won't die choked: we'll drown!

This Is Not A Love Song

To be with her without touching...
To listen to her every sound and watch the way she moves her lips hopping to hear words she wont say...
To say meaningless things but not those I really want to say...
To desire a kiss and not having it...

Well, life goes on. Gotta learn to live with it again. 

Rain

Ela - Já viste o que chove lá fora?!
Eu - ... água?!

April 15th

I must mark this date on my calendar as the day when everyone I know at the mill made allusions to my piercings. It's something I'm used to, but today was something really outstanding as no one kept his mouth shut about it!

... God! Why don't people just leave me alone?!

Pissed

The typical idea we have when one's pissed is having him talking to the air as if someone was there.

I had some huge binges but I was never found talking to myself... Why do some give big lectures while drunk?

... please, just shut up!!

A Coffeehouse's Tale

And with a pleasant smile on his face, the boy answered him a "go fuck yourself!" and got out.

After a few years without visiting his coffeehouse, the boy made his way in to have a coffee after work and buy the daily bread. The owner, who knew him since his early days, with a yellow smile stuck on his face, told him he was still a fat boy, while grabbing a few punch of coins.

Now, neither the boy will enter his bloody shop again neither he will ever find him a "big" boy again. It happens that there are other places where the boy can buy his bread...

Even with everybody's stunt look upon him, he left with his head up high and feeling really good with himself.

about: blank

Lately I haven't got any inspiration to write any sort of posts, so, until my depressions strike back again, this is how this blog shall be kept: standing by.