Where's heaven?

She's sitting on the sidewalk and looking to the sky.

The hot summer wind hits her face and leaves an angry texture.

Where's heaven? She was supposed to be talking to angels.

Where's heaven? All she's looking for is happiness.

Where's heaven? She feels like in a prision.

What's the meaning of life?

Who's the guider? What's the map?

They'd told me if I wished it with my heart, I'd get it...

I did...

Wasn't love supposed to win?

Christmas will be season with salty tears.

MYTH

Somewhere - an old, yellowish, sacred book

T'was stated we'd once see

Some things in you were like everything in me

How many pieces of my split soul

Had I left behind? I'll never know...

You blew your voice, I picked the melody

It's like we're in and out each other's mind

You're my myth, my missing half

A logic Einstein would never sustain,

That gods would consider profane

I'll break gravity laws to go and touch you

I'll make a bridge, I'll fly away...

In the wind blow

While clouds move

And sun shines

I'll sing a song for you.

So far away, but so in me.

SQUARES

I walk around the world paying attention

To colors I don’t know the name

Almodóvar colors, Frida Kalo colors, colors

I toddle in the dark, I pay close attention

To what my brother listens to

And like a second skin, a callus, a protective capsule

I want to arrive earlier

To signal the being of each thing, filter its degrees

I walk around the world amusing people, crying on the telephone

And seeing hunger hurt in hungry boys and girls

Through the bedroom window, throught the car window

Through the screen, through the window

Who’s she, whos’s she?

I see everything framed

Remote control 

I walk around the world

And what are cars in a rush for?

Where are kids in a rush to?

I transit between two sides of one side

I like the opposites

I expose my mode, I show myself

Who do I sing for?

I walk around the world

And my friends, where are they?

My joy, my fag...

And my Love, where are you?

I woke up

There’s no one by my side. 

(Translation from Adriana Calcanhoto's song)

In and outside

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=df-lDx228C0

Something has changed in the world's setup. Hours are feeling like days, days like weeks and future like a time that never comes.

Sitting in a square, it feels like life stopped. People are no longer graceful and sun has shone less. It feels like the most meaningful, joyful space is a blank piece of paper where I'm writing this.

Where's the blue sky? Where are the colors? What's the soundtrack giving life a happier rhythm? Which flavor could sweeten this fully empty tasteless space?

One might say it's a molecular mutation... or that gravity forces are inclining society to another configuration. Global warming perhaps...

Other might say t'was a change inside myself. Inside warming, inside reconfiguration. Forces inside wished the surroundings changed.

The poet might say I need to listen to a lullaby, sang live. Go a little closer, take it to a whisper, just a little louder...

Free birds

The way he looks at her... uniqueness of fireflies beauty in a surrounding of nothing.

The way he hugs her... touch of a butterfly in a wet flower

The way he talks to her... music to out of tone ears

The way she's attracted by him... weirdness of a desire for deep rest

The way she feels by his side... comfort of a caring mother to the just born child

The way she can't kiss him... fear of breaking a precious vessel

There are free birds enjoying the feeling of admiring an unachievable garden.

Sole writer

This blog had two readers. One of them is gone.

Both of them were loyal readers. One though commented on my posts, disagreed, laughed, every single time I thought I had something to say, useful or not.

I feel like a sole writer. An unheard voice, a lonely heart, alone in the darkness of sometimes nonsense thoughts. Writing is like ping-pong: you can never play by yourself. You can play against the wall, but there's no emotion at all.

The only purpose of writing is having a reader to address. A writer imagines an audience, previews reactions, comments, emotions. The writer is a god - his pieces of writing are creatures that no longer belong to him. They are alive, they flow in minds, they are modified, they grow up, progress.

I'm thinking of closing this "book", or whatever you call it, putting a full stop. Or I could identify myself and become public - I don't really want that.

I miss my loyal reader, my friend. A friend that passed away leaving a big hole in my heart, a hole that will probably never be filled again. I miss his laugh, his sense of humor, his ability to relate everything to a song, his honesty.

I feel like a lonely writer.

I wish...

I wish I could write poetry,

Bring words into life and wear them with my feelings.

I wish I could sing,

Puzzle up the chords and make them dance in everyones ears.

I wish I had supernatural powers,

To come and go, whenever, wherever; in space and in time.

I wish I didn't have a gypsy spirit,

And could safely rest in the comfort of home.

I wish I couldn't feel,

Control every single ting of scary threatening fondness.

I wish I had less courage,

Be afraid of going further, of tasting new flavors, of meeting new people, of living different experiences.

I wish I have more courage,

To face my own concerns... to keep being myself ... and to stop wishing so much.

Dear "god"

Dear Mr. Possibly Existing "God",

Here I come again to explain myself, so that you don't play another not funny joke to punish me somehow (and people insist you do those things cause you "love" me!). You like funny jokes, don't you? Yeah, I've noticed. But you're so quick that you scare me! :/

Well, please hold on for some minutes. I already asked you to send me back as a snake in the next life, so try to be nicer to me. If you wanna do something bad, send me to be a snake in Brazil and that will be fair.

It's not that I don't like human beings. I try to understand what you were thinking about when you made some of us more intelligent and less lazy than others, but you're so complex! What were you occupied with that took your attention, huh? Eve????

How can I love someone that cleans the washroom with my face towel as I love myself? Ok... you'd look at me sideways and ask: "What did I teach you about forgiveness?"...

C'mon Dad! Why didn't you make us with a bit more patience? You challenged us and you lost, Sir. I'm sorry. Be humble at least today... how can I love people that say I've always been selfish, anti-ethical, insensitive and bureaucratic??

Dad, don't look me sideways! Aren't you the infinitely merciful? Huh? I know what your sentence is: "Do what I say, but not what I do"... isn't it???

Smart Dad... :/

Funny cultural fact

Living in another culture has been an amazing experience, that's quite obvious.

It's so interesting how things that people belonging to the different culture take for granted are clearly noticed as "strange" by the visitors. For us it's the same as if we were riding a car in a desert highway and an animal crossed it. It's a mix of scare, surprise, unexpectedness.

But what I'm here to talk about is quite simple. I've had two boyfriends in life. How is it that you start a serious relationship in Brazil? It's like a mutual agreement:

- Hey, Maria... I like you a lot.
* Me too, John.
- Maria, do you wanna be my girlfriend?
* :) Sure.

And both are "committed" to each other, in less then 30 seconds. That's clear and undoubtful.

I have a girl friend who was living here at the same period of time as me. We're in June and she met a guy in February. Since then, they'd been dating, going out, sleeping together... But in the middle of June she told me she didn't know wether she was his girlfriend or not, because he had never asked her.

WTF?? I went for a search. Here it's a bit more complicated. Can you imply if someone is your boyfriend or not? Difficult, huh? That's how it works here.

It's like stepping eggs. Maybe you'll consider him your boyfriend but he won't consider you his girlfriend. Then you're in trouble! LOL

When is it that you should stop kissing other people to "dedicate" time and feelings to the one you've been dating? GOOD LUCK!!!! When you find out, please drop me a message here! hahahahha.

Foot note: Don't take too long, because it's been three weeks I've kissed exclusively one.. I like him, it's worthy, but ... I don't know!! LOL

Being a student

I'm 25 years old now and it took me a whole life to find out people have lied to me about studying to "be someone" in life (or at least they hided some important details about it).

Today I went out during noon to look for buying new tennis shoes. Mine are already so damaged that they got soaking wet while I was walking in a not too rainy day.

Well, the task of looking for shoes was pretty frustrating and irritating. First of all, it was raining and I should walk because I don't have a car. Second, the two stores a friend suggested me were too expensive (one pair of tennis would cost me 10% of my monthly scholarship). Third, I couldn't spend $120.00 dollars in shoes knowing that I'd have to pay more $60.00 to use the gym.

Why didn't they tell me some years ago that being a student was good, but that I should get out of this function as soon as possible? As a student, you become "someone", yes... "someone" always on a tight budget, "someone" wet in the rain, "someone" always busy, BUT poor.

That was all hidden!!! :/

Looking for what?

Some days ago I told someone: "I'm not looking for a boyfriend". That means: "I'm not looking for someone to like/love".

What is it that one calls "like" or "love"? What the predictability of those "conditions"? Can you predict wether you'll like someone next week or not?

I've already heard plenty of stories about friends, colleagues, neighbours... my father was my mother's teacher. They fell in love, got married and I was born to be here writing down these quite nonsense thoughts today.

Liking someone is like appreciating wine. You buy a certain brand and grape type once, try it.. and then you'll advice it to your friends and you, yourself, will buy it again.

A good wine goes well with good cheese,
goes well with your sense of taste.
A good wine is a moment of pleasure,
a "repeatfull" moment.
A good wine is not the only good wine in the world,
but a wine you'd put in your cellar,
to pick it.. undoubtfully..
A good wine is rare.. I can remember a couple of them..
It embodies a good impression in the 5 senses of
Seeing, listening, touching, smelling, tasting.

You fall in love with a wine, unexpectedly, as you fall in love with someone.

Happily Happily Happily, hou

I'm not sure it was the rain or the salsa I danced yesterday.. hahaha.

The fact is that I'm happy and feeling free. Feeling I CAN control what I feel, what I do and who I want to be close to.

It seems that, all of a sudden I realized there are more people you like and that like you than I could remember.

All of sudden I realized my self proud is bigger, that I don't depend on others and that I can "kick the bucket" whenever I feel like.

Now we can talk about the north-corean war threaten and how a ginseng raw is frighteningly similar to a decapitated person.. LOL

Complexity

I've already called many people "complicated".

No, I'm not complicated. Am I? I'm complex, as we all are. I have stories, as we all have. I have fears, as we all have.

Maybe I've confused myself with who I've been so far and who I (don't) want to become. Someone, somewhere, some time sang: "There's more loneliness at the airport than in a cheap motel room". Couldn't be more true. What's my setting?

I've lived intensely in all "departments" of my life: family, friends, relationships, university. I'm getting confused in trying to find a balance. It's not "emotional disorder", or any sort of "problem" that could be called "problem".

Changing is not easy and understanding this "not-easiness" is dysrhythmic. I feel uneasy with the "not-easiness" of understanding myself, my wishes.

Some might run away from me. It obviously hurts, but I'll never judge.
Others will simply (wisely) be silent and wait.

I'm not afraid of living, I'm just trying to be cautious.
I'm not analyzing everything. I'm just trying to figure out.
I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm just trying... to be better.

In threshold

Here I come again to talk about feelings.
Feelings are always connected to people. People are always inconstant, and I'm essencially inconstant.

Here I come again to talk about life.
Life is always a matter of decision. Decisions are usually difficult, and I'm especially hesitant.

There's a tangled set of doors I could go into now, each of them reserving a set of singular, profound feelings towards especial, important people in my life. I'm surrounded by uncertanties.

I'm afraid of feeling, because feelings aren't a safe place.

I'm slippery and feeling like loosing control once again. Shaky feet, sweating shirt, wrinkled front. Is that happiness after all?

I'd rather wait for the sunset.
Let the orinoco flow, let the wind blow.

Eu perdoo...

Eu perdoo ignorância, burrice, insensibilidade, teimosia, malandragem, burocracia, preguiça, egoísmo... mas grosseria e falta de educação me agravam a gastrite...

Bota a corda no pescoço!

Dois dias foram o suficiente pra eu me sentir destruída por palavras. Adjetivos, mais especificamente. Adjetivos deveriam ser objeto de lei: "Ninguém poderá atribuir adjetivos a outrem, deliberadamente, sob pena de reclusão inafiançável".

Há 2 meses eu fui chamada de insensível, irredutível e burocrática. Ontem, além de tudo isso, ainda fui taxada de egoísta, anti-ética, irresponsável, descomprometida, usurpadora, só valorizo as minhas histórias e não vivo as experiências por completo. "Deveria ter buscado ajuda com um profissional". Tudo isso porque eu gostaria de ficar em um lugar e não em outro, geograficamente falando.

Hoje me sinto como se nada do que eu tivesse feito em toda a minha vida pessoal e acadêmica tivesse valor. Que importância tiveram esses últimos quase 7 anos? Que importância teve eu deixar de viver os prazeres da vida pra resenhar livros, escrever textos, estudar para provas, ter as melhores notas e ser premiada como a melhor aluna de todos os cursos de Ciências Humanas da universidade federal onde estudo do ano de 2007? NENHUMA. Nada disso foi mencionado.

Hoje eu daria um chute no balde. Deixaria no passado todo o esforço, tempo, emoções, dedicação, trabalhos, produções, investimento... pra recomeçar.

Hoje eu queria não ser mais eu. Queria que, num piscar de olhos, eu estivesse de novo em maio de 2003, no momento de decidir entre mudar de cidade ou não, e eu não teria mudado. Provavelmente hoje eu não estaria aqui. Talvez nem viva estivesse! Quem garante?

Talvez hoje eu estivesse mais feliz.
Talvez hoje meu abraço nos amigos fosse mais aconchegante.
Talvez eu tivesse mais graça.
Talvez estivesse sorrindo.
Talvez.

Sem ar

Há alguns dias li no perfil de uma amiga: "Adoro a humanidade, o que me incomoda são as pessoas". Tenho compartilhado desta ideia nos últimos dias.

Fazia tempo que eu não sentia vontade de sumir, desaparecer... pegar o primeiro ônibus e ir. Algumas pessoas me sufocam. Quando, finalmente, abro os braços e me proponho a viver intensamente, a sair da realidade positivista de que eu própria me cercava, tem gente que se sente empoderada para me pôr rédeas.

Tenho sentido vontade de ficar sozinha, incomunicavelmente só. Ironicamente, tenho tido que colocar rédeas em mim mesma (EU tenho poder pra isso). Tenho tido que fugir, me afastar, desviar do caminho de alguns que têm sido responsáveis pelo martelinho interior que tá ali, aqui, dando seus sinais e tirando a paz. Que inversão de jogo! Me decepcionei comigo mesma. Fazia tempo também que não me sentia besta...

To me sentindo sufocada. Tenho tido vontade de parar em cima da ponte e, num giro de 360 graus, bradar que PAAAAAAREEEEEEEEMMMM!!!! LARGUEEEEEM DO MEU PÉÉÉÉÉ... e que esse grito chegue até o BRASILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!

Me deixa viver, poxa!

Decisão do dia: Vão todos ao raio que os parta!

Adeus... até mais... a gente se vê...

A vida é feita de vindas.
Pessoas vêm esperadas como a luz do dia e inesperadas como a chuva ao meio-dia.
As pessoas nos tocam, como o voo veloz e certeiro do beija-flor sobre a sua fonte de néctar.
As pessoas nos encantam, como o canto demorado da cigarra em fim de tarde de verão.
As pessoas nos emocionam, como os primeiros passos da criança que, desequilibradamente, se prepara para desbravar o mundo.
As pessoas nos constituem, como a areia no mar, como a nuvem no ceu, como a borboleta descaradamente colorida embeleza ainda mais qualquer jardim.

A vida é feita de idas.
As pessoas se vão... como o trem que parte da estação deixando um vazio, um silêncio, um tom fúnebre...
As pessoas se vão como a ave mãe que abandona o ninho à própria sorte...
As pessoas se vão como se esconde o sol ao anoitecer...
As pessoas nos deixam, como nos deixa o sono e perdemos a paz...
As pessoas tomam caminhos diversos, como folhas caídas tocadas pela mais suave brisa do amanhecer...

A vida é um irremediável ir e vir. Pro bem ou pro mal, todas permanecem em um cantinho da memória e são levadas no coração.

Tenho tempo

Hoje tenho tempo, mas preferia não tê-lo.
Tenho tempo, mas me faltam desejos.
Tenho tempo, mas me falta companhia.
Tenho tempo, mas me faltam sentimentos.
Tenho tempo, mas me falta liberdade.
Tenho tempo, mas me falta coragem.
Tenho tempo, mas me faltam planos.
Tenho tempo, mas tenho rotina.
Tenho tempo, mas a vida vem por detrás e me dá um empurrão adiante.
Tenho tempo, mas tenho saudade.
Tenho tempo, mas me sinto ignorada.
Tenho tempo, mas vêm as convenções.
Tenho tempo, mas a decepção está de braços dados com a vida e é a terceira mão que me puxa o cabelo e prossegue curvando minha cabeça adiante, de modo que meu olhar encontre o chão.

Tropeço nos ponteiros caídos do relógio quebrado. Só, joelhos e palmas das mãos arranham no contato com o chão. Sacudo a poeira e, sentada ao chão, cruzo minhas pernas mantendo o olhar cabisbaixo.

A natureza conspira. Eu sigo com o olhar desatento e peito aberto.

Estrangeiro

Quem é esse que ta aí?
Quem é esse que veio e chegou e invadiu um espaço pronto e demograficamente constituído?
Quem é esse que pensa em ceder sentimentos, ceder amizades, ceder atenção, carinho, afeto, pra depois, impiedosamente, dar as costas e deixar um vazio?

Tenho me sentido estrangeiro no sentido mais completo. Ontem alguém me disse que chegar em outro país é como entrar na casa de desconhecidos e começar a jogar um jogo do qual as regras são desconhecidas. Sábia comparação!

Tenho jogado jogos dos quais ainda não consigo compreender os princípios. As regras do grupo maior são seguidas por outro grupo menor que, além delas, ainda convencionou outras. Complexo? Demais!

Existem, ainda, as regras individuais que não entram em conflito com as gerais e que eu tenho tentado descobrir. Não raro estes indivíduos são enigmáticos. O resultado é uma mistura de carinho, decepção, dúvida, incerteza, impotência.

Tenho tentado dar um basta nos meus sentimentos e trazer pra dentro de mim a frieza que até há pouco paralisava os sentidos. Um amigo me sugeriu relaxar e deixar pra lá. "Nós somos passageiros aqui. Eles não podem se apegar a nós. O que pra eles é rotina, pra nós é vivido intensamente".

Talvez ele tenha razão.
Talvez seja cruel, da minha parte, esperar que sintam o mesmo que eu.
Talvez seja cruel comigo mesmo me entregar em sentimentos aparentemente fugazes.
Talvez seja melhor jogar a mochila nas costas e ir passando, sem deixar marcas, sem levá-las.

Amizade - Que diabo é isso??

Pela postagem anterior já é possível perceber o quão importante são as relações pessoais na minha vida. Disse a uma pessoa alguns dias atrás: "As pessoas são um fator decisivo quando preciso fazer escolhas". Um mesmo lugar pode ser extraordinário ou detestável, dependendo das pessoas que nele estão.

Esse fim de semana fiquei pensando sobre amizade. O que é, afinal, ter amigos? A que servem? Qual o papel dos amigos no dia-a-dia e o que esperar de um amigo?

Pra alguns é muito simples: ter amigos é conhecer pessoas e, eventualmente, se encontrar com elas. A esses eu chamo "conhecidos".

Pra outros, amigo é alguém com quem você se encontra com muita frequência. Continuo denominando a estes "conhecidos" ou "colegas de trabalho".

Amigo, pra outros ainda, é alguém com quem você pode trocar favores. Assim me relaciono com meus vizinhos ou, novamente, com alguns dos meus "conhecidos".

Amizade, pra mim, é um termo um pouco mais complexo. Amigo, pra mim, pode ser alguém que se encaixa em tudo que relacionei acima, mas envolve muito mais sentimento. Observe que "pode ser", mas não necessariamente é.

AMIGO:

- Alguém que me ouve.
- Que, de forma ou de outra, é parte essencial da minha vida.
- Alguém com quem EU me importo.
- Que me liga simplesmente pra dizer "oi".
- Em quem eu primeiramente penso quando quero companhia pra algo.
- Homem ou mulher, não importa jamais.
- Que me dá conselhos ou chama minha atenção - que se importa comigo.
- Perto ou longe, continua sendo importante pra mim.
- Alguém com quem posso contar e que pode contar comigo, sempre, em qualquer hora.

Eu já tive amigos pelos quais, tempo depois, descobri não ser considerada como tal. Eu já tive amizades ilusórias (eram meramente conhecidos). Não sei definir o tipo de dor que isso provoca, mas fica martelando e povoa o pensamento por várias horas no dia.

Uma amizade pode nascer repentinamente, ocasionalmente, inesperadamente. Mas é duradoura.

Temo ter poucos amigos. Me conforta é saber que eles estão sempre lá, pra quando eu precisar.