Tag: books

Chronic Independence

Michael

Independence and cof, cof, cof, I am not crazy and nor so courageous pra to defend my native mother with my life. Although to fight, ' ' me non troppo' ' one ' ' jitsu&#039 jiu; ' to have athletical body (it goes behind), I am not this brave and destemido patriot. After all, this ' ' Mtria' ' what never raised its clava in defense of its citizen will be that it deserves my thin and watery blood? Idolatrada loved Native! This ' ' Mtria' ' it only lives wanting let us look at that it with administrative love, love this pay with high prices in taxes and indifferences. It saves, saves! They save them of the bankruptcy and the misery that mutilates the children of the corruption and that it amputates the cold blood the hope in the future. But if the distrain of this equality! We are distraining good and promises in a form to try to follow the life and its requirements. We buy the bread that was regurgitated by the disobediences and excessive interests and of when in time we pass margarina for who knows to saborearmos a visit the middle class (that the old one said that took a multitude). But as people joy (poor) lasts little, the bread always falls and with the low butter pra.

Brazil an intense dream! We dream of better days and who knows with one ' ' Mtria' ' with a maternal heart, where always it fits plus a citizen. Your risonhos, pretty fields have more flowers! But he seems that in this ' ' garden of the den' ' who only can take a walk is those that eat the forbidden fruit (corruption). To the people they remain only the leftovers of a garden sown with sweat and tears and without forgetting the calluses the daily fight. You will see that a son yours does not run away to the fight! In this history I am in another film. I with my courage of lion of the OZ magician go pra of the bed underneath and pray pra that they do not find me. But as I am of the people and to the people they remain only potatoes, them always they have to find me. ' ' there, oh my God of the sky already had discovered aqui&#039 to me; '. But they do not think that I go to cry out independence, about the first chance I I run and I speak: I am Brazilian and not Anderson Silva.

Books, Bookstores and True Love

Michael

One of my favorite past times, when I am not reading, is visiting bookstores. I have always liked going to bookstores. But I wasn’t always able to enjoy such pleasures. Growing up in Brooklyn, I had to content myself with a weekly visit to the local public library. The one bookstore in my neighborhood sold dusty old second hand books, and new books which were not usually suitable for children. There was also a drug store and a stationary store, which both sold popular novels, which also did not attract much of my attention. But the library had the books divided up according to subjects, so if I was in the mood to read a book about space, animals, or a faraway country, my curiosity was easily satisfied. But mostly I loved the novels. To find a good one, I usually asked the librarian for a recommendation. Because of my librarian’s good taste and refined ways, I read such amazing books as Gone with the Wind, The Phantom Tollbooth, and Little Women at an early age.

It wasn’t until High School, and even more so, college, that I learned the joy of visiting bookstores. Until then my love of owning my own books was mostly satisfied via the wonderful company called Scholastic Books. Periodically, perhaps once a month or once every few months, my teacher would hand out a thin magazine printed on newspaper with lists of books which I could actually own. The day the books arrived at school was a happy day for me. I don’t remember too many of the books I bought from scholastic, but one of the series I enjoyed from them was the Harriet the Spy books.

But bookstores took buying books to a whole new level. Wondering through the aisles of a bookstore on a college campus like U.C. Berkeley, where I was a student, is an experience which can hardly be described in words. The subjects were universally fascinating, the textbooks brimming with the promise of discovery and adventure.  Now, many years later, I am still in awe when I enter a bookstore, and can barely resist purchasing just about everything I touch. I still borrow many books from libraries, but my house is also filled with books that I have purchased, either on-line, from bookstores, second hand, or from various book clubs which I have belonged to. Certainly reading is a lifelong pleasure which I am grateful to be able to enjoy so thoroughly.