2006

It would make sense to live in Australia.

You celebrate your New Year's on the beach, giving in to summer laziness.

Ever since schooldays, summer has meant closure, rest and a chance to start afresh.

That hasn't changed with the work-vacation routine. And God knows my kaledioscope of different jobs does not quite help this matter.

Probably the most famous book on plus 30 Celzius, the sea and islands I've read so far is the Magus. Not to bore anyone, it's a story of migration into warmer settings and incredible life-turning people you can meet on the way.

Even if life is more-often-than-not not so dramatic, and is especially lacking in people who make it a living theatre with mental somersaults, I cannot think of a single person whose life could not be successfully and willingly overturned and his or her head turned with the sudden appearance of someone.. well, interesting. And as Arthur puts it, the pretty face is but an instant recommendation.

Or as Pessoa has it:
All love letters are ridiculous. They wouldn't be love letters if they weren't ridiculous. I once used to write love letters, just like other ones, ridiculous. Love letters, if there is any love, must be ridiculous. But, after all, only those creatures that never wrote love letters are ridiculous. If only those times returned when I unconsciously write ridiculous love letters. It is true I am today left only with memories of love letters and how ridiculous they were. Every emphasized word (just like all intense feeling) is naturally, of course, also ridiculous. 1935