Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Brazilsoccersweater.com




History, told a few years ago one of the best musicians in this country, and to be a follower of him or his music, sure that history is known or at less will sound, but do not worry, because today we make a small sketch of it. The musician, called the two main characters in this story Abelard and Heloise, in fact, do not know if those are their real names, or if the artist, I substitute actual names for these evocative medieval lovers, the case is that I will use other more in tune with the times, for example, say you were called Sara and Carlos.
The issue is that Sara and Charles, were young, with all that that implies, "inexperienced like a bird without wings. The two lived in a place far from the coast, a place on the plateau, a poor little town, like most of the plateau areas. Neither of them had never left their land, or even had moved to the extreme peninsular, in the vernacular, no one knows the sea. Of course, both had seen before in pictures, or movies in black and white past and again in theaters continuous session. They knew their texture, smell and appearance, so read books, and narrated by those who had been lucky enough to admire, and some had done abroad, which at that time and in a small town was almost a heroic.
Until the day comes, and one of the two plant-Carlos and Sara, "that does not matter, and tells his companion to accompany you. Where?, Said the other surprised and with a tear in the eye. The sea, let's go to the sea, fulfill our dream, was his reply. And on the morning when the streets were still empty, the two left their homes, just taking the money, what little they could get, and more than a friend could leave and were put in place. In search of the sea, but not from any sea, put it, let's go abroad thought and after weighing a while, thought that being on the plateau, the sea was the closest foreign Lisbon, where he went, leaving a napkin written for parents, which could be read "Relax, we'll see the sea again soon."
Falling into the great lie that fall most tourists, the lie that Lisbon is the only European capital that has Tues But this, they will not know until they got there and told them the capital had no sea or beach, but the river, a huge river and fantastic, but a simple river and the sea was closer to 27 miles in the town of Estoril. And there they had in the first train of the day, dying of cold and hunger clutched their stomachs, like a leech.
why every time I approach a ground Estoril remember and recreate the story of the boys, I'm on the seafront, and I see them there, nervous, moving along the edge of the station, eager and happy, smelling the salt the sea and listening to the background the Atlantic waves, thinking that there was little to fulfill their dreams. I imagine them together, sitting on large stones of the pier, watching the foam jumping and breaking waves, splashing them with fine droplets of moisture on their faces and happy youth.
Last time, I imagine them sitting there, smiling, happy, feeling free to the dream fulfilled, evaded the world, believing almost invisible. I saw as they entered the breakwater the two public safety officers Portuguese, approaching silently, hiding the sound of their footsteps with the beating of the waves, and after stand behind them, and hold onto the shoulder, I request that identified. Both knowing discovered, get up and go with them to the police station nearest where no longer hear the ocean, or smell the salty air, where you just sleep. There, in a rickety old table covered with papers, deposit what they carry in their pockets, their minimal possessions: their passports, some badges and a postcard from Estoril. Hoping that they returned home, with their frightened parents, the pair of moody by the adventure of their children, which had jeopardized the authorities of both countries and their mothers on the verge of collapse. But happy, fulfilled a dream, a dream of madmen, authentic freedom, even for a short time, freedom of truth, as they feel the insane, the only truly free.
The last day we relived this story in my imagination, I was struck that half-smile that accompanies me in a sustainable manner where I, as a silent stowaway, who takes over my face when I least expect it. After that, I closed my raincoat to protect me from the incipient rain, turn on my heels, and ran towards the close, which whistled in the near halt, announcing his immediate departure was real life.

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