Something new, something old.

It has been a nice week end. It gives me a bit of flu, for the tiredness and the cold, and the rain, (normal administration for an Irish week end) but it has been a nice one.

Travelling, even for a short distance, it enhances the relax of the week end.
I think this might be due with a sensation of escape. Even if we like our job, our friends'circle, we always have a sensation we need a break, a place where we can be safe from the daily worries and even from the daily joys.
   Why is this?  
             It is just because the mankind is eternally unsatisfied?
                    Is it because we want always something more, something different?
  And once we had that something different, we want back what we had before.


It is an eternal race with the next wish. At the end of the day, it is always the same old story. Even writing these lines I reckon that this is so trite to be boring, but sometimes we need to pause one second and reflect about the ugly truth of the trite common sense.

                                                There is no escape to this.

Homesick

Rome, St Peter cathedral.

Living abroad is exciting, full of experience and often a great adventure.
In my opinion usually people do not regret to live abroad, but it is almost certain they will be homesick, every now and then.
 
Just thinking on how it is Rome at about this time of the year.

                                                                                 The air is cold, but still not too much,

                                                                            and the smell of the caldarroste

around you is a clear sign of the autumn. 

A stroll around the city center brings you in adorable places, where people are meeting up since almost 3000 years.

Rome is magical, 

no doubt about that. 

Little things II

Relaxing time with friends after work, chatting about our lives and our dreams.
Coming back home and finding your flatmates on the couch watching the Champions League.
Laughing with your cousin about Disney movie.
Going out in the balcony to smell the winter night.

Every little helps, as a famous supermarket said... And it's so true. The little things are the ones which make your day worth to be lived.
Happiness is reachable from everyone, if only  we learn how to see.

Boredom

It is a strange feeling, boredom. Why do we get bored?
It happens even when we actually do have something to do.
Baudelaire understood the essence of boredom. It is something that covers our spirit when we are doing what is not in line with ourselves, when we would like to do something totally different.
Sometimes, we are not aware of that, and the Ennui comes and let us know that we're going in the wrong direction.

So, even being bored is useful.

LXXVI - Spleen
J'ai plus de souvenirs que si j'avais mille ans.

Un gros meuble à tiroirs encombrés de bilans,
De vers, de billets doux, de procès, de romances,
Avec de lourds cheveux roulés dans des quittances,
Cache moins de secrets que mon triste cerveau.
C'est une pyramide, un immense caveau,
Qui contient plus de morts que la fosse commune.
- Je suis un cimetière abhorré de la lune,
Où comme des remords se traînent de longs vers
Qui s'acharnent toujours sur mes morts les plus chers.
Je suis un vieux boudoir plein de roses fanées,
Où gît tout un fouillis de modes surannées,
Où les pastels plaintifs et les pâles Boucher
Seuls, respirent l'odeur d'un flacon débouché.

Rien n'égale en longueur les boiteuses journées,
Quand sous les lourds flocons des neigeuses années
L'ennui, fruit de la morne incuriosité
Prend les proportions de l'immortalité.
- Désormais tu n'es plus, ô matière vivante!
Qu'un granit entouré d'une vague épouvante,
Assoupi dans le fond d'un Sahara brumeux
Un vieux sphinx ignoré du monde insoucieux,
Oublié sur la carte, et dont l'humeur farouche
Ne chante qu'aux rayons du soleil qui se couche.

Les Fleurs du mal - Spleen et Idéal - Charles Baudelaire

Monday morning.

Monday morning. Again. It took a lot to be optimistic on Monday morning too.
I do not know why this is so painful. Everything looks grayer on Mondays. The same weather that seems so lovely on Saturdays, on Mondays is just awful. It's winter, it's cold, it's raining. Even if tomorrow all of those will make you smile, today they're the end of the world.

Until you allow them to be so. If you stop one moment the flow of the complaining to realise that is not the actual thing, but is only the day that makes everything sad, you can rebel against this silliness.

Mondays will always come, always once a week: why make ourselves miserable once a week for the rest of our lives, for something that is totally out of our control?

Therefore, so long Mondays mood! I've decided it is not so bad, after all.

Time.

Winter arrived. The cold in the air hits your face when you're walking, but it's not unpleasant.
The seasons' changes are welcome: they mark the time flying away, that means you're still living. Often we are afraid for the time passing by, but I'm wondering why. After all, the only alternative of getting old is dying. Not so bad, if you're looking at it from this point of view.
It's a question of perspective, as everything is. We are able to create our happiness or our desperation, it's a decision on which perspective you want to choose.

Happiness is nothing but a decision.

Difference and Equality.

I was talking with one of my colleague the other day about work's atmosphere, and we found an interesting point.
At least, I found it so, and it would be interesting knowing the opinion of the net about it.

In a team is usually easier to deal with a man manager.
I think this is due to all the struggles women faced to reach the top of the work chain. For this reason, they tend to became more manly than the men themselves, to try to be their equal.

So, whilst the modern society claims to have overcome the prejudice against the women in charge, or in place of responsibility, all that they have done is to have eliminated the feminine from them, creating human beings that are covering their own nature at the point to forget it.

Until being brave enough, good enough, tough enough will be identified with having the man physical attributes, the woman as she is will never be really equal.

Real equality is not blindness to difference, is not pretending that the difference is not there, but it is giving the possibility to the difference to be itself.


Only if everyone can be different, we will be really equal.