airfelipe

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Chronicle I Believe In Santa Claus

I was on time this morning. It was only 7:15; I had already walked and had working wait for me. I went for a walk after a long period of stuck inside the house, quarantine. The watch? How did I know the time? It was a gift I got.

There is a question that always circulates in lectures to all corners and universities: “What would you get if your house were on fire? Only one object can take it.” This question can unfold on many other items: attachment, private property, synthesis of life, etc. Of course, the question that does not want to shut up: which object would you pick up?

I was wondering, and who does not get gifts? Yes, still on the watch I got for my last birthday. We are in a world of about 8 billion human beings. With all the frankness and sadness, I can say: there is someone who does not know what it is to win a gift. Low this current of thought, does this person know of the existence of Santa Claus? Or did he find the evil boy in childhood and punishes him perpetually. Here are the reflection and controversy: I believe in Santa Claus, with all your license, please.

Of these, approximately 8 billion human beings, what will be the exact amount that passes without a gift throughout their life? Yes, we are privileged, you who are reading, in all my precision in getting it right, I know you've already earned a gift in life. And you have it with great affection.

Anyway, I went for a walk with my watch this morning, and I sure as hell would catch it if the house caught fire. Not for the value, but for the story it contains. Santa was very good to me last year, and all my life, I got several gifts on the commemorative date, and on my birthday, I believe it was Santa's bonus. With so many people in the world, with so many complex minds, and endless desires of every human mind, of course, I can't help but mention our missions here. There goes my argument for those who don't believe in Santa Claus: his mission is to make all living people gain at least one gift in life.

Oh! More importantly, have you exercised the power of gratitude? The example of gratifying yourself for something can be charming, beneficial, and healing.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle About Loving

Sitting in a fruitful chair that brings me to a single thought: what will be my destiny. Is there one I can be the lead actor in a soap opera? I mean, what bodies will be that will intertwine with mine to the point of losing my mind. I want to, and I am going to win her over.

What measures would fit in a glass measuring the size of my headage? I am sure it would take a colossal jar to be able to settle down and find it. I want to intertwine in your hair and feel something beautiful: love. We should not, as human beings, deny themselves to that noble and beautiful feeling that is love. We must; we must win back our peers and try again, again and again.

Do you recognize Lady Gaga's songs “Again, Again”? She is incredibly beautiful, and his Artist exposes that she loves. Do you want to see a crazy artist? Take away his love. The fundamental basis of fine art is love, and the act of loving and how you love. There may be difficulties, difficulties, and cycles that interrupt the natural process of art along the way. But fine art is still there. It was pulsating just like an artist's heart.

I consider myself a person in such a construction that it is not up to this to say: I am or are not an artist. At the time of putting the function of the Facebook page, I put Artist, but am I? Who gave the endorsement? I want to love and be loved. After that, I think about how to be a good artist. I'm on standby as someone waiting on the prowl for an opportune moment to be happy. I want to be, and I will be. Or I'll die trying, seeking such happiness. Not at the expense of others, I do not want to project my longings into love; this is terrible and is not an exercise of good conduct.

How should we seek love these days? Downloading Tinder?! Some will answer that yes, and others no. Some will say a few places and environments, and some spoke in friends of friends, friends, or relatives, at last. It is up to our daily internal construction to know who we are and what our goals are. Love? It comes like a strong wave of sea breaking in the sand. We should not take away anyone's love, even with a strong wave breaking in our chest, we must keep firm, feet on the ground. But again and again, it's part of our loving deconstructions. Sit in a comfortable chair and conquer it, deconstructing yourself and start an act of love. A little loving madness is always well-liked.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Respects Alice Who Lives In Me

I will try to summarize: the shortest distance between any two points— may become the most extended trip you may have ever made. Yes, it may sound a bit arrogant or petulant, but bad tripe can start with only one vaping. That concentrated THC cannabis can take you a long way.

It is not a fool that many artists and influencers use the gimmick of psychoactive drugs to obtain unexpected results. Surfing can be good too. Surfing inside your relaxed brain. What a vibe!?

You are sitting in a comfortable chair looking out to the sea. With a glass of your favorite drink in your hand. Friendly company around you. And a giant wave is approaching, and it was a tsunami. You didn't feel anything, and not visible to most. You can't see the surge, and it's coming towards everyone present there. If you knew this information before, would you sit looking at the sea?

Alice In Wonderland explains well what happens to some people. Get in the rabbit hole. Do you know the cat which smokes? He's so lovely. I explain: can some people throughout their lives show signs of mental weakness?! Better to say, a very creative head. Creative to the point of breaking social standards noted as usual. They can conquer the world or not. You know some artists who lived in a rabbit hole, for me, it becomes apparent Dalì — genius for me.

Respect Alice, who lives in me. She lives, dominates, eludes me, takes me down, does the victory dance, returns to normal, gets small and big at the same time, and kills the dragon. Reconquer an entire kingdom for the true queen. Beautiful, isn't it? And she lives in me. I don't need to win the world and give the domain to a benefactor queen. I worry about today.

Anyway, about sitting by the sea, we never know when we can have a breakdown, stay out of yourself, that wave is that it can come rampant and you can't even imagine, so we have to respect the “Alices” that live in people. Producing too many things or being a genius can't be a rule, sometimes you want to sit around with your favorite drink, and that's it. Following artists' tendencies has never been an exercise in creativity, so we need to exercise something that will up our souls without using psychoactive drugs. We need more meditation in our lives. And yes, the shortest distance between any two points is a straight line.

Curious things: the text has almost 420 words, and I am listening “I Walk The Line.” — Johnny Cash.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Chronic Disease

I was immersed in a dilemma: moving to a new house or staying with my parents' company. I have a friend who is looking for someone to share, and it seems like the future is screaming to move me.

I was immersed in Twitter: when I came up with a CIA dilemma. The Central Intelligence Agency posted a puzzle. I, soon curious, tried to solve it. I lacked a little intelligence, and really, the CIA is not for many. It's a very narrow audience. Although, I thought, “I have a friend who will solve it.” No more, I posted it on the WhatsApp group called “old high school.” Bingo. He solved it. Although, my EGO kept screaming, did he manage to solve it? Yes, I saw in twitter responses so many comments with the same right answer. Anyway, I believe so.

I was immersed in being a host to a dear person in my family, and she noticed a flower in the kitchen, more specific: an orchid. I said, without thinking, “It smells like chocolate.” The darling was silent, was wearing a mask, observed again, and I replied: “Smells chocolate.” She didn't smell the flower, and she smells like chocolate. That wasn't the name of the plant, as it seemed to sound. She will have new opportunities to know the smell of this orchid.

Anyway, I have with me that although an orchid, a CIA puzzle, and a friend to share a house may seem disconnected. Yes, perhaps. However, in all the above situations, I was immersed. I would like to know more about it, the CIA. I wanted to explain myself better, orchid. I tried to make the correct decision in my present period, change.

The criticism this time came as The Flash about my texts: agreement. I don't have much experience with English, so it's up to the reader to ignore it or criticize it. I try my best to make the texts transparent to the public. It is not easy Portuguese – BR and in English becomes something challenging. I want to get immersed in the American language and try to take the reader a little out of orbit, enjoying some chronicles written with much appreciation.

Yes, you can and should have your opinion, but I hope you can stay immersed for a few minutes in the way I write. It may not seem like any genius of literature, but I gladly take that time to transcend. Bring something. A few more chronicles and explain why I've left home, I thought I was a CIA agent, imagined penetrating people's minds presenting without many words and how I'm overcoming chronic disease.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

#WriteAs #MyWrinting #Wrinting #AirFelipe #Writer #Blogger #Writers #MyWords

Chronicle of Congratulations

Yes, congratulations! It's for me! Alive! I made available ten chronicles in English for free here on the WriteAs platform. If you support me as you are helping me, which I much appreciate, I will be in the toil of writing one chronicle a day.

What audacity, dear reader. It's a lot for a beginner in English, and a beginner in writing. Although I read somewhere that it is good to exercise the frequency, maybe I will not write better. Or not. Laughter. There are many obstacles in writing; one of them is monitoring reading, doing a useful review, and minimal translation. I like to write; it is up to you to decide if you enjoy reading my writings.

When did I start this? I have a Blog on Medium with more than 38 published writings. There aren't many, mainly because I'm slow this year. I started the practice in December 2017. Month and year, I stopped drinking alcoholic beverages due to the regular medications I take. Anyway, it is a long story that I will one day post here too.

The funny thing is that the total views I get here on the platform in one post are the number of pictures I get in a month on Medium. Laughter. I have a very restricted audience there, and here is more straight to the point, straight from the oven for you. A little raw bread, because I'm walking.

Next year I intend to return to university studies and maybe evolve more and write a novel. I have some stories in my head, but I know it's not the right time yet. You know the congratulations over there on the title? So he serves you, too. Maybe one day, we will not see each other on a Times list or with a column?

Returning to reality:

So far, I have not received any email confirmation scribes here in the WriteAs Blog. It makes me a little sad but also challenged to write more and better. Who knows someone is interested in receiving new posts right in their inbox? Who knows, maybe.

Just put your email and confirm the registration in the link they send directly to your mailbox. For a pseudo writer, it may sound pretentious the way I wrote it, but I dream. I want to keep dreaming and believing that things are possible. One of them is graduating. I know I've got a long way to go. So, you want to go with it?

Thank you so much.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

#WriteAs #MyWrinting #Wrinting #AirFelipe #Writer #Blogger #Writers #MyWords

Chronicle of Gratitude

The year was 2011, and the month was July. I was sitting in front of my house watching the street like a hypnotized. I was in a dilemma, and I felt substantial mental fatigue. Studying Letters in the capital and without more, a remarkably close family member appears amazed saying: “You don't know who died!”.

People die. We know that. We are a different state of consciousness when there is a feeling around a person, celebrity, or someone who admires each other much. The state of consciousness is different for each case. A few years ahead and I lost my only grandmother alive, on her father's side. It was a scare. She was fine when she suddenly fell, was hospitalized, had surgery, and couldn't resist. Today I see it as a moment that has closed, and a cycle is complete successfully. My grandmother was strong and had enormous faith.

A friend stopped answering me on WhatsApp and, after a while, replied that her grandmother had fallen and broken her leg and would operate. I didn't think twice and prayed for her. Thank God it all worked out, and she is in recovery.

The two cases above, one of death and the other of recovery of both advanced persons at age, are not fit for the first paragraph. Who died, anyway? In 2011, Amy Winehouse. I was a big fan of yours. Your songs and timbre made me get out of the body. Find something bigger. And she was very young. At the fateful age of 27. Not only her: Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and others. We know that. Fame can often bring unrestrained evils.

We are facing a pandemic, with tens of thousands of dead. We're facing death head-on. And she's been trampling on the masks, leaving people out of breath, taking away our socialization. And some keep their heads firmly in place. I say this because often some people tell me that I'm steadfast mentally, when in fact, inside, I'm distressed. It's not easy for me. It's not easy for you. Not to anyone.

We have one thing in common: to live. Especially today. Face our fears. And as a colleague reported in a spiritual experience with another colleague: “Hey, man! I killed my demons by meditating, and you? Have I killed them already?” It may sound funny, but it's real. Our Achilles heels, we need to face them face to face, just as we wash our hands and face this planetary crisis. In July 2011, I didn't even know I was going through a pandemic, and you? But there is something in common: as I breathe, healthy, I try to get out of the body with good music, a good memory of grandma, anyway, let's keep fighting. One of the most precious forces in the universe is practicing gratitude. Lived at the same time as an influential voice like Amy, a memorable companion like my grandmother and friends, to send a message asking if everything is okay. That is a new life. And I need to be grateful.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Empire State

I was sitting in a soft chair. Perfect for my buttocks. I can't explain how comfortable I was, but I was recently for the pleasure of a nice rest. My mind wasn't used to so much rush yet. Eternal? Would I have died?

When I was at a party in mid-2010, I got out of my body. I remember flashes from the spree period. It was fun, inside out. Because you'd have a very stumble along the way. Would I know there'd be no turning back? Would I know I should stay in luck, which is the limit? Limit? Would there be a piece of consciousness leading me to death or rebirth?

Some people say we pass while we live by rebirths. It's a kind of phoenix that resurfaces, new and beautiful. Resplendent. Is it palpable to have an affirmative like that? It was a party, damn it. I was trance, and I didn't want to stop that cheap and wandered the dark streets like walking dead. I was at the highest point in my world. And it falls. Ugly. It was a fall from the Empire State. Freefall. I have never been to the Empire State, but it must be tall.

I wonder what happened. Severe psychotic breaks down that made it impossible for me to continue with my college degree. I took everything I liked. Reading, people, friends, literature, poetry, bohemia, the life of a potential college student. What did I get, anyway? I just lost. Is this a text of endless whining? No.

I got a little part called sanity! Sign, that period, I was tormented and sick, and now, with sequels, I try to live, write, read, and immerse yourself in literature. Get drunk with words and good stories. One of the new pillars that take me to the heights is spirituality, elevate my soul. I am no religious fanatic. I am insufficient as prayers, but when I do try to be myself, with my faults, I give myself to the top.

I have a question for you: Have you ever felt the pleasure of a good chair until you think you have died?

Well, faith can be a little of that for me: to find a fullness that takes away the most primitive senses of a human being who is life. No, I'm not insane about thinking I'm dead. You must know this expression for other purposes, such as the end of beautiful sex with much love involved. My spirituality required me to find that feeling in small details; I try to find God and his power in everything. And give thanks. It's the least.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Beer

Few things remind me of anything from college. Some new others, not so much. During the period I was studying at the Universidade de São Paulo (USP) in the capital – São Paulo, Brazil – and my eyes jumped on Thursdays. (I didn't get to finish the course)

We were sitting with my mother, sister, and I at a restaurant here in my town. I was about seven years old. When the waiter politely requests the drink, my mother says “Coke,” my sister: “Orange Juice” and when the very educated worker turns to me waiting for an answer ... He asks again, addressing me, “What are you going to drink?”, Without hesitation at the height of being a child, say, “A Cerveza!”. And they all laugh. I live in Brazil, and here we speak Portuguese – BR, but because I was a child, my diction was not the improvements, but it is not that came out a beer in Spanish! Who knows what was going on in my head?

Thursday? You're probably wondering. What's the subject of you? Simple, on Thursdays, I drank Beer at halftime of college and after night classes too. They were affectionately calling (QiB – Quinta e Breja) translating TyB (Thursday 'n Beer), and in one of those bohemians of life, I met a guy who made me open my head with tongues. What may be next, already exist in the literature, but a true poet, polyglot and bohemian said:

“Think! Think! Reflect and imagine that you are a tree. That is right! Imagine your brain as a tree and its branches. Now, stop! Stop! Look at the tree from afar. Do you know the branches and their offshoot? What about the trunk? Yes, the body is the mother tongue, and at the tips are the various languages. To learn faster, make diverse associations between languages, and build your tree.”

Of course, I cannot have perfectly summed up the Poet's speech. I do not even remember his name. Although, I with my seven years of age speaking in Spanish in the Brazilian restaurant and we talk to Portuguese-BR! I wanted to go back to having the language skills to translate this text better into English. Why am I with an English blog being that I'm Latin American? Who knows! How many questions in one document?

I thank the readers of this page. If you continue to have disclosures and visits, you are most welcome. Motivates me to write more for the page. If you can help, even more, sign up with an email to receive new posts from me here on the page.

I am going for Coke today.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Ant

I was at my sister's house in her room while I was playing the daily news on TV. No more, I noticed a petal of his orchid, placed in a housekeeper, falling under an electronic device. The petal? Fall? Yes.

When we are alone, we will look at some new things if we are at peace. Most wise people much appreciate the act of observing. How many times do we come up with sayings that talk about being attentive to worldly details to enrich the soul? No, it will not become poetry.

I explain and justify: Often, we are so stunned that we can not notice in small details, as the petal gives falling, it was a moment, precious to me. The leaves fall, but waiting for them to fall can be a matter of hours on end sitting, watching. If it is not a matter of days, we will never know the right time.

What I wrote reminds me of a children's film of the little ants, when the main character watches a leaf fall from the tree, he gets abuzz and shoots out to tell the other ants. I watched the petal fall and didn't even warn my sister and brother-in-law that they were in the room. What am I supposed to say? A petal fell! Look! They didn't understand that moment was for me. It was a warning of the higher plan of consciousness, breath in the ear saying, “Hey! Look at the orchid now!” And I looked. I liked it, and I thought you should keep it to me.

Well, certainly writing now about the orchid I am not saving just for myself. But here is a breath:

The petals can fall, spring can pass, the wise will contemplate the beautiful things of nature, and we will be where?

In the film, there are many challenges, like the coming of locusts. We can consider then as the adversities of the life we spend. Problems? There will always be, be in peace of mind, with spirituality aligned, or if you are an agnostic atheist: have created mindfulness, you should already know what it means.

For me, a new cycle has formed. And like in the movie, there's a lot of work ahead of us. Exercise my spirituality better, my fraternal human side, end behavior failures, exercise my ideals more assertively, and move on. It's not easy, because we're in the middle of a pandemic. I wish the reader wouldn't remember that word while writing that text, excuse me, but it was inevitable. If you were surprised by the word pandemic and all the context we live, it achieves my goal.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

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Chronicle of Typewriter

The famous typewriter was in perfect condition. However, the owner kept it in a secret location. I liked the feeling of having some remnant of your past. Course? Typist. You'll know when you're going to need it. Well, you did—what a curious attempt.

Something similar happened a few years ago. In a psychotic break down, I remembered I had a typewriter donated by my brother. There was no more ink to weave words on the sheet. I searched several sites for the specific template and found it! I asked the skilled Air, dear father, to put the black and red ribbons in order. It worked perfectly. I was able to write nine pages, and It's a book start. Don't attract me so much anymore. The facilities of a computer are lovely.

The case is of a boss who needed to type a check, and when I saw him dusting the machine, almost in secret space, I left with tearful eyes. Not out of amazement, but of an intense desire to write, to put out. Back then, I was just business. At the time, because we talked about ten years ago, a decade is too long—the time of a young adult. When I was 19, I wanted to do better in my life, working almost 16 hours a day. Patience, about the psychotic break down, it is a loss of reality. I went into building a parallel reality where hackers stole all my writings. All I trusted was the typewriter. Today sounds funny, or a little rational thinking about vulnerabilities on the Internet. Please don't fall for it; it's hell to live in a severe outbreak. Dangerous, because I stopped working, studying, socializing. With everything. However, the old typewriter brought hope back. A teenage dream, a dream to write an entire book. Put out my thoughts, and that's it. If it gets good, good, if it gets bad, I will keep going.

Today, the machine is still in my secret corner. My dream? It's about continuing to write because it brings me back to reality. Every word and idea written is like a step on the ground—a start of a walk. I write because I need the fact that it costs me mental illness.

Respects: Thank you for the affection of my mother, Mirna, and the patience of my dad, Air, for all these years in my recovery. To my friends: gratitude.

By Air Felipe

@airfelipe90 — Twitter @airfelipe — Facebook @airfelipechepa — Instagram

#WriteAs #MyWrinting #Wrinting #AirFelipe #Writer #Blogger #Writers #MyWords