Costa’s
2007 February 27
In Portuguese miserable and solitario has to mean the same than it does in Spanish or in English for that matter in a day like this when traces of rain set the rhythm of arteries pumped by the river of a heart. The man of the dark skin and the dark jacket, tall and strong, stares out of the café towards the street: he talks to himself, also to us, and after one or two minutes of silence she asks him, smiling, “are you alright, Alex?” As if the rain today were a thing of todos los días, like her waitressing job and our daily breakfast, while we read the news of the day.
You are the Hulk, dude, remember? Rain or no rain, the Hulk is always miserable and solitario. Go out and CRUSH something! (It’s raining in California, too, if that’s any consolation). Second thought: rather than crush something, write something. That always works for me. Every time I write something the sun shines … no matter how shitty what I’ve written. Third though: what the hell, CRUSH something.
oh what a day… rain rain and more rain…………………………………………….and now the sky is purple and now everything starts to gently smile again. while my guitar stops weeping.
Hey John, I appreciate your efforts to cheer me up. “Solitario” and “miserable” were the words that a Portuguese costumer used to describe the landscape outside the cafe this morning. We had a particularly grey and rainy day today, indeed. For me it was a very productive way, though, so far.
“productive day”, I meant.