“Yeah, but what if you went back and killed your own grandfather?"
He stared at me, baffled. "Why the fuck would you do that?”
Stephen King
If
I had Time Machine in Portugal, I would go nuts with it. For sure, I
would go and meet Fernando Pessoa in Lisboa. I would become crazy
writer with him, develop heteronyms, while drinking Absinthe in A
Brazileira, in downtown Lisboa. I would indulge in literature
discussions, and go to hell with opium addiction. I would become
restless and sleep-deprieved, agitated and lonely, so my only option
would be sleepless in silent night. A room lid by one candle and
lonely words that could generate another „ Book of Disquiet.“
Or maybe I
would chill with Erich Maria Remarque, who wrote book about Lisboa,
called „ Lisboa´s night.“ I would see Lisboa in the midst of
Second World War, hear the stories and struggles of the international
refugees, all trying to escape from Nazis and their crazy politics. I
would try to escape to America with the last boat, at the same time
hearing the sad reality of those escaping. I would lid cigarettes and
share romance with brokend minded women, sad love stories in
underground, smoky bars, while praying that they would not catch me.
I would share my story, like it was my last time to do so, with
people with the same destiny but different country.
I would
cheer in 2004, in Porto, when Mr Magic, Jose Mourinho made miracles
with local team. I would go nuts, while watching the Champions
League final in some tasca in Porto, when local equipa beat Ac
Monaco. I would sing and chant, when the team would return to home
town, when streets would be coloured in blue and port wine poured
endlessly. Even tough, I was born to be Sporting fan, words of a
lying extranjeiro, I truly would have like to see such moments. Or
see, how the black panther, Benfica´s brightest star of the history,
Eusebio, runs and dribbles at opponents, score hattricks and start
celebreting madness in stadiums. However I would be every day at his
door, trying to convice to stay loyal to Sporting. I would
have liked to witness his greatness, his legacy, his power and
ability to change the world, to give meaning to ordinary day life. I
would have followed this hero, thanked him for such great times, beg
for him to do even greater. Sadly, few months ago, this hero passed
away.
I would
have liked to be small boy, born in villages of Alentejo. All my
childhood would have passed amidst wine yards, lemon trees, barking
dogs, Sunday church and family dinners. I would have seen
olive-skinned local girls with cherry perfumes, gallantly
daydreaming, while lying in the golden fields. My grandfather would
be a sailor, a miracoulas hero, who would have seen Seven Seas and
Lands. A forever- traveller, passionate smoker, who would tell me
about foreign lands and unknown treasures in our garden. He would
teach me the meaning of good wine, home-produced wine, while talking
endlesly stories about portuguese maritime success. I would hear
about Magalhaes and Colon,Vasco de Gama and their bravery. I would
hear about portuguese inventions, the genius of caravels.
Maybe I
would time Travel to Age of Discoveries, smoke some good good early
in the morning on the Carracks of Vasco Da Gama, while taking on the
longest journey out of sight from the land by that time. I would
stare at the sea early in the morning,praying that the sea will calm
down and that we could reach India. I would fight off the pirates,
treat people with spyhilis, write diary about Vasco da Gama and his
endless speeches on board about spices and the miracles of India. I
would write letters to my family in Lisboa and Alentejo, I would
instagram the endless dancing in Calcuit, while sailors and marines
dance with prostitutes to the dawn.
Also I
would like to put sense in senhor de Gama. I would stop him at his
second vojage, when he intercepted a ship of Muslim pilgrims at
Madayi traveling from Calicut to Mecca. I would stop his looting of
400 pilgrims, including 50 women, I would not let him to lock in the
passengers and the embassador of Egypt. I would let him to burn them
to death and yell:
„ HEY MOTHERFUCKER, I HAVE MUSLIM FRIENDS AND THEY ARE NICE, DONT BE ASSHOLE, YOU HAVE MONEY, FAME AND BITCHES, WHY YOU WANT TO KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE! LOOK HOW MUCH ARAB PEOPLE HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO THE MARITIME EQUIPEMENT!“
I guess he would have like to kill me for that. But if he tried, I could always time travel, back to Coimbra, saudade and Radio Universidade de Coimbra.
„ HEY MOTHERFUCKER, I HAVE MUSLIM FRIENDS AND THEY ARE NICE, DONT BE ASSHOLE, YOU HAVE MONEY, FAME AND BITCHES, WHY YOU WANT TO KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE! LOOK HOW MUCH ARAB PEOPLE HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO THE MARITIME EQUIPEMENT!“
I guess he would have like to kill me for that. But if he tried, I could always time travel, back to Coimbra, saudade and Radio Universidade de Coimbra.
*
I
would join with Amalia Rodriguez at some smoky tasca, when winetakers
hear her and my matching voices. We would sing for our craziness and
greatness at the same time, we would forget yesterday and today, open
our mouths and SING LIKE IT IS THE LAST NIGHT WE ARE ALIVE. We would
vanish to the rytmh of portuguese guitar, when it cuts deep down to
listeners heart. And it cuts deep, with nüri nuga, just to make our
only need - to lose oneself - visible.
We
would kill our sorrow with our only passion TO SING ! TO SING LIKE IT
HAS NEVER SUNG BEFORE, TO SING TO MAKE THOSE WINE GLASSES SHAKE, AND
LISBOA CRUMBLE. TO SING, YES TO SING, SING AWAY OUR PASSIONS, SING
AWAY NATIONS. Become human by singing, become alive WHEN SINGING. And
when we finnaly have collapsed, hardly letting out our last breath;
when our all life has put out there, our blood runs out of pain and
sadness, we stare at the crowd. We see the microphone burning and
crowd silently staring at us. We moved them, we made their life
meaningul. We shared a moment. A moment of magic. It seems that this
night all the microphones would be burning with a tremendous flame.
*
I would chill with Saint Elizabeth, while she feeds poor and complains endlessly about her weight issues. I would repeat all the time that she is fit – when she truly is. Her answers would have been simple self-pity monologues that bore my libido. In the evening she would be nice, we would sit by the window, smoke some good- good , make love in the queen bed, cause Dinis is busy with parties and big pimping , and then smoke, smoke again. And in the morning it would feel amazing to walk in Coimbra. Sundays, day time, with its all sweet odours, while knowing: you are royal.
*
I would chill with Saint Elizabeth, while she feeds poor and complains endlessly about her weight issues. I would repeat all the time that she is fit – when she truly is. Her answers would have been simple self-pity monologues that bore my libido. In the evening she would be nice, we would sit by the window, smoke some good- good , make love in the queen bed, cause Dinis is busy with parties and big pimping , and then smoke, smoke again. And in the morning it would feel amazing to walk in Coimbra. Sundays, day time, with its all sweet odours, while knowing: you are royal.
To
see the greatness of her husband. Major influence in Portuguese
history, second king of Portugal. A man with a mind, responsible for
establishments of Universities. Also, the first portuguese university
– Universidade de Coimbra. I would not forget his smoky balcony,
when he wrote so many great troubador songs, made happy plans for his
people and dreamed about Escalades in a year 2000 and meeting Steve
Jobs. He had universal mind, infinite mind, mind of the Whole Earth.
I long for going to one of his swinger parties, dream that it feels
as hot as Kubrick`s eyes that where shut with Nic..oooh..
Niiicoole Ki-..ii.. oh man.
*
Listen the show at: http://www.mixcloud.com/Babel_RUC/time-machine-in-portugal/
TIME
MACHINE, part II
The
warm and gentle summer breeze touches your just awakened body when
you open your two sparkling hazel eyes for a bright new morning.
Smiling, as always. Over the horizon one can see two rising suns.
Yes, there are two suns in the heaven now, as the ancient hopi
prophecy has turned out to be true. But pale moon, having done its
nightly task sharing dreams for people asleep, makes it's way to the
next round. The circle is full, once again, in order to start again.
Alpha to Omega and Omega to Alpha.
The
air stands still, there is a brief moment of total silence before
choir of birds greet daylight and the cover of Atlantic ocean in
Algarve flashes back some memories from the times long gone. Nowadays
nobody counts the days or years anymore. Time itself has stopped or
lost it's meaning as a money making machine for the crazy language
speaking apes. Rather it is seen as a virtue, some kind of magical
device that unites all the momentums from the so-called past and
so-named future to the one place where floating consciousness can
bear eternity. Omnipotence, ubiquity and omnipresence are well-known
terms.
You
rise from your cosy tailor-made hammock, made from bamboo and hemp.
This rest-nest is truly the best for daydreaming and stargazing. Girl
with olive skin and round eyebrows looks at the mandala in the middle
of hammock. There´s symbol of Yin and Yang, reminding her
everlasting harmony of the multiverse where every moment is to be
enjoyed, life itself celebrated and danced in the rhythm of
magnificent tunes.
Your
curly black hair are dancing in the wind when you make your way to
the warm waves. Soon enough water plays with tanned naked body. To
give yourself fully to the ocean, letting go of letting go. Getting
wet. Letting water pet your long legs, flat stomach and curvy bust.
Yes, the nipples do get hard too. Your round lips turn to smile when
tongue tastes the salty water on them. This is the taste of
Portuguese freedom, because saudade and longing are gone now, Godot´
has finally arrived and Estragon is happy as a puppy.
Sunny
girl walks out from the warm ocean, smiling with joy. She lays down
on golden sand, puts on her magic sunglasses and gives an order to
the machine. Time machine, uniting past, pre-sent and future. What a
victorious ride it is to be able to travel without moving! "Lets
ride, my dear," sounds a whisper and device starts its imaginary
engines...
For
the old-believers, who trust numbers, some kind of time still exists
and therefore they are still keen on buying wall calendars and this
year is marked by 2035.
But
she remembers. The new rise of Portugal started back in 2014, when
bunch of open minded students started mental revolution. It happened
in Coimbra. That lovely little town full of fresh ideas and beautiful
people, narrow streets and stray cats. Like all revolutions this one
also started in the kitchen, just close to Sao Jeronimo park. On a
bright spring morning, when all the landscapes were singing with lust
for the new era everything seemed to be easy enough to accomplish.
Youngsters in the kitchen were just greeting the day and looking out
from the window, where glorious mountains were still covered with
mist from the previous night. Suddenly one of them told others to
write down dreams, which they wanted to share. They did.
Suddenly
everyone agreed upon two facts: all they really needed for changing
this world were peace and love. Love from the button of the heart and
peace from within. Breathing and being the same with the surrounding
environment. And then things started to happen, even the wildest
dreams, especially when they were good ones, magically took place.
It was even bit funny, this mental inner-space freedom.
Time
machine showed the next episode. Two years later united hearts had
lead the way. Coimbra old town was covered with colorful beautiful
houses, once abandoned buildings were now filled with intelligent and
lustful youth. Student unions were backing each other and everybody
had free place to live. With the knowledge from the university and
open minded thinking miracles really started to happen, first in
Coimbra, then in Portugal and after that all over the world. At his
final year as serving president Barack Obama had shown benevolent
behavior and legalized cannabis in the States. Pretty soon Angela
Merkel did the same. Poland had to reorganize it´s agriculture and
was for the year 2019 biggest organic hemp grower and exporter in
Europe, making fortunes. In Estonia shamans kindly offered magical
mysterious adventures to the deep forests, where fairies lived.
Time
machine started to play Chris Cocos tune My Sunset and girl smiled
again. Blue sky and summer sun reminded her that perfection is here,
on Earth that we share.
Listen the show at: http://www.mixcloud.com/Babel_RUC/time-machine-in-portugal/
