In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

sexta-feira, 5 de março de 2010

To Occident of the Paradise (21). Later I discovered that he imitated Fernando Pessoa… even in the costume.

António Eduardo Coelho da Mota was very talkative. He always came impeccable in fact and tie. High and very thin, of wide eyes, always shaving and well hairdo. Always to ask to Quitério any doubt that had. It was very aggressive and of unstable character. He changed of personality constantly. That was due to being only son as he admitted. My parents demand a lot from me, he complained. A thing had in common. The military census and the mobilization for one of the colonies. It was necessary to burn the time that lacked.

In that nightmare of the lost time of the afternoons, he found Mota in Frederico to write in a notebook. He wrote a lot. With a hat and glasses always very thoughtful. Later I discovered that he imitated Fernando Pessoa… even in the costume. Other academicals youths appeared occasionally. Of the conversations that maintained, great part of them didn't understand. But with the time I went learning a lot of thing with them. Quitério told me that should read many books. As he went to the Municipal Library of Alvalade regularly, he told me for accompanying because that there could bring three books gratuitously and to the end of fifteen days to return them.

And it was as soon as restarted myself in the Great Masters of the Universal Literature. Jorge Amado works read them almost all. But the author that more I liked and I have faith that I read everything that published was, William Somerset Maugham. Of simple and humble style, very travelled, with deep knowledge, skilled narrator, honest, said that he wrote to win money, that knew the English language badly and that her success was due to the translators. It impressed me the endings of their works. Especially, The Razor’s Edge, that he inhabited permanently in my mind. The itinerant Municipal Library that worked in a car also allowed me a lot of reading, because he appeared close of the street where inhabited.

Quitério and Mota with other intellectuals had the idea of founding a domestic library that would work at the house of one of them. With initial jewel and monthly shares acquired the books. In the reality who had the idea he was Zé Luís. It was him the boss, stood out in everything, in the intellect and culture. A youth of fine treatment, of refined education. Always very nice for who wants that it went. He had the habit of greeting always with a light one to tilt of head. When it appeared, instinctively all rose for greeting. It was direct and frontal. I tried a dialogue with him, in the reality he wanted to impress him. He read scientific goods in the newspapers, it cut them and he kept them, especially the one of Eurico Fonseca in the Popular Diary. I moved forward with Von Braun:
- Do you know that I read an article on Von Braun?
You were the treatment that he drove all. I think it intended to maintain a certain distance.
- Ah Yes?! Who was he then?!
- Without him rockets would not exist, it would not be possible to go to the Moon.
- I asked her who was him!
- A German.
- That is journalistic culture!
And how he always walked with books under the arm, I noticed his glance of Roman censor.
- Many books little wisdom. Stop reading the scientific goods in the newspapers.
- I don't have money to buy scientific books.
- For that reason it should be quiet. Hear our conversations to learn some thing.


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