YES, MASTER...

I'm stupid. Yeah... Either that, or the examining board of nothing but PhD's is stupid. I didn't pass... I don't know what the problem was. I thought my essay was pretty great! Actually, after talking to the course coordinator, I got even more blown away because he said he was expecting exactly what I new I'd written... So... I don't get it... I'm actually kind of disappointed. They suggested that I take the course as a "special student" for now.
So I sent my essay to the teacher that was going to be my dissertation adviser, pretty decent guy, with a masters and PhD from Unicamp, and told him that I usually have a pretty good feeling of when I deserve to fail or not... And this wasn't a failing essay. Guess what? Yesterday he wrote saying that my essay was correct (discussing an excerpt from Leviathan by Hobbes), and that it might have been a failure of the selection system...
What the f....
So that's that... Friday I'm going to an interview, to see if I get accepted at least as a special student... What's so special about that?!?...

Mission Accomplished

Today I presented my course paper. One of the teachers on the examining board actually called it "your book"... Might it be because the bulk has surpassed the hundred page mark? I don't know... I just know this: the teachers were excited with it, they gave me more time than usual to speak, and all the feedback was one big eulogy. I just couldn't believe that something that was so much fun to do would get such a good review. They recommended it for two publications and gave me the maximum grade.

I just hope the masters selection process won't be so hard on Monday... And I definitely need a vacation.

love

In such times when there are no moments idle enough to rest, due to the hectic rhythem of life, it is not a bad idea to take a second to value the very few, possibly only, real things we have in life...

So I dedicate this post to someone who probably won't even access it because she can't get through her workplace firewall... to my love.

She's my friend, and she's got my back. She casts light over my shady places and I just hope I can shed as much light back... When I get nervous (stupid as only I can be) she disarms me with her giggle, and sometimes we fight... but we make up.

When I first saw her, I wasn't impressed nor in awe or dazzled, no, those wouldn't be the words to describe it... I was happy. Yes I was happy because I recognized her, like if she has always been my companion, my friend, my love.

She is smart, not only in the traditional sense, but wise-smart. She doesn't fear thinking, and her mind is no prisoner of culture. I deeply respect her. She is free like few people I know, yet does not belong in this crude petty world, as a friend of ours says: “she's a wise old soul...”

She is the most beautiful creature I know, though I fear physical beauty is overrated in our shallow lives on this planet, whereas the real beauty, the whole beauty, body-mind-and soul beauty passes often unnoticed... That's the one I cherish, that's the one she possesses in abundance.

Sometimes I don't know why she chose me... I grew weary asking her to marry me over and over all these years, to which she replies: "don't be silly, we're already married, don't you know?"

I just know this: I'm a lucky bastard.