About me

Lets do it.

I'm not as smart as i'd like to be, as pretty as we both would like and not so available as any star sign can imply. I have my days and the days that are mine. The most part of my hours is not mine, i think too much about what doesnt belong to me, but i produce when nobody expects. I live from passion, i feed myself from sighs, i run out of what life is. I wear masks that i dont know, but as much as i can, i walk naked of me. I dont pretend liking who i dislike, i dont pretend knowing what i dont know. I learned to be frank but not impolite: if you dont want to know what i think, dont ask.
 

Today i like some songs and tomorrow i cant handle most of them: things change, life changes, and i keep on dancing as its partner. Dont wait from me the same attitude i had before, about the same things. I woke up to some realities, i see so many others. I want you to me, but i wont wait the time it is necessary: new scenarios are always revealing themselves, day after day.

I think sleeping a lost of time. Dreaming is essential and you can do it awake.

I believe people are more important than things, no matter the thing a person offers. But not anyone: the most part of the ones i met is dispensable. The ones who remain, no way.

I still dont like movies. Stone me.

I prefer Kit Kat, dark chocolate, sweet wine, hot days and Smirnoff Ice. Would you like to lable me for this? Be my guest.

I dont know how to pretend i dont want somebody to show i want. This game i dont know how to play. I dont want to learn it. If you prefer like this, bet your chips in another.

I really liked "Wear Sunscreen". But i hate the fuss is made over it. I consider "The little prince" wonderful, but in my game of saying truth, i hate when people quote it indiscriminately. I listen to what i listen to, i think what i think, and i dont look for your approval. Is it okay for you?

Yes, i'm contradictory. Or not.

Oh, yes... how many lines are enough to sorround someone completely?

I'm tired of human being. I'm tired of being human. I want only to be, no matter what, and if necessary. Like this.

Thats, then, who i am. Thats what i am.

At least for now.

10 almoços não celebrados

Suspirei. A casa de veraneio, como assim gostava de chamar, parecia acanhada ao me receber. Já não tinha mais o mesmo cheiro de antes, já havia muitas outras coisas novas, as quais ela não colocaria se estivesse aqui.

Não há piscina, como assim preferia. Abri as janelas, depois de soltar as travas e pude ver cada um dos minúsculos grãos de poeira, que brilhavam em saudação sob a luz do final da tarde. Lembrei que as noites já não têm o carinho nas costas, o beijo e o “eu te amo, te adoro, te venero”. O futebol ou a corrida aos finais de semana são acompanhados só por mim, sem ela. Não há mais tapetes na sala, nem o brigadeirão que ela fazia.

Tentei encontrar o carinho, disse “eu te amo” várias vezes e fiz sozinha o famoso brigadeirão, mas nada mais é como antigamente.

Inspirei o cheiro de umidade e solidão, e percebi o óbvio: a vida não tem o mesmo curso para todos, e é preciso que haja aqueles que dão sentido ao que os outros fazem... são os que seguem solitários por toda jornada. Entendi que talvez algumas coisas não me estão reservadas, e que é essa aceitação que, enfim, poderia me dar a paz de espírito que me fora roubada há 9 anos, em meio ao turbilhão da adolescência.

10 dias das mães sem ela. Acendi as luzes, abri o vinho. Começaria agora.

Naquela noite

Acordou com o coração acelerado, peito apertado, encharcada em suor, enquanto o relógio marcava alguma hora perdida da madrugada e a TV exibia, para ninguém, "Corujão do Esporte".

Sentou-se no colchão (porque as camas ficaram para os casais, e sobrou-lhe o chão para dormir) e, de repente, sentiu-se invadida por todos os sons daquela cidade estranha (bonita, porém estranha)... alguém andando no quarto acima, o holofote da boate que insistia em ficar rodando, carros com risos altos e passos daqueles que estavam vagando por ali.

Apoiou a cabeça nas mãos, passou-as pelos cabelos; sentia escorrer pelos braços o suor tenso, sentia subir-lhe pela nuca o arrepio da ansiedade. Seus olhos queimavam como brasas vivas, enquanto avistava a bela noite, estrelada, calma, e ainda assim, sentia como se uma tempestade fosse anunciada, distante.

Doía-lhe a cabeça. Contraiu-se. Esticou os braços e agarrou as únicas pílulas que o médico lhe autorizara ingerir. Tomou tantas quantas pudesse, sem correr o risco de lhe fazer mal. Todas, num único gole d'água.

Ar. Precisava de ar. Tentou fechar os olhos e controlar a respiração, tentou imaginar-se em algum lugar verde, com vento soprando, com pequenas pétalas de flores se soltando e flutuando junto às borboletas, dia adentro.

Mas o coração não se aquietava. O dia viria. Ainda que lutasse, que não o quisesse, o dia viria.

Então, antes dele, vestiu os shorts e a blusinha surrada, enfiou os pés no confortável chinelo e saiu, evitando o elevador, decidiu ir pelas escadas, entregando-se aos suspiros da noite que, teimosa, parecia não ter fim.

Passou a guarita, desejou boa noite (sem resposta) e foi reto, sem rumo. Sem dar-se conta estava ali, beirando a praia, sozinha, naquela escuridão. Ela, que evitava as areias sempre que podia, decidiu sentar-se no deque e contemplar alguma coisa, coisa tal que sequer passava pela sua cabeça. O mar. A brisa. Até mesmo a areia.

E foi naquela noite que, depois de 1/4 de século, conseguiu entender o que se escondia na imensidão do que estava à sua frente; do que estava sob as areias sem os guarda sóis e as pessoas, e as bolas, e as crianças e o monte de carrinhos disto e daquilo.

E entendeu que gostava, sim, daquilo tudo, mas que somente conseguia captar a riqueza daquela natureza se estivesse daquele jeito, aflita, sem saber o porque. Só conseguiria desfrutar de toda aquela magia se estivesse olhando pra dentro de si, sem pensar em ninguém nem em nada.

E foi naquela noite que, não mais aversa, agora descalça, andou pela areia, onde o estrondo do mar lhe convidava, parecendo a única coisa, no meio de todo o turbilhão de sentimentos, que fazia algum sentido.

Sob o forte vento da praia, ergueu as mãos, segurou os cabelos, fechou os olhos, sorriu seu melhor sorriso e entendeu que estava de volta ao recomeço.

Naquela noite, a menina que pensava ser feliz somente com pessoas ao seu redor, se tornou a mulher que podia, entendendo-se a si mesma, se bastar.

Naquela noite, sobre as areias da praia.

My choice

You were slowly going out of my life, and now I need an immediate solace. I don't know if I miss you 'coz I don't know what I feel anymore. You took away from me anything that was ours and took away from me everything that was mine, you took me out of my way, out of my zone, out of my route. You took me out of where I was, took me away from anywhere you thought I didn't fit and I was just accepting, going, being taken of from there to here, any moment, wandering through life without needing.

You were mine for so long that I'm scared to allow hurting everything that has to hurt. And you were mine for so long that sometimes looks like everything was wasted between us, 'til the pain.

You knew me a girl and watched me turning in woman. You read all of my texts about other people, other pains, you were there all the moments of my life when I thought only your approval was important. You saw in me my shattered sadness and told me so many times that you were the glue which was hold my castle of dreams stood up. But, later, you rode on top of my dreams, blocking any view I could have for them, making me think that over the rainbow of your smile there was nothing else to be found.

You saw in me qualities that nobody, 'til then, had had the sensitivity to find, you knew my good morning and good night eyes, my hapiness eyes, my missing ones, the sadness ones... You knew my mouth that compresses when life disagrees with me and I don't have other choice but tie my crying on the nose. You allowed me to see yourself under the armor that the people know, you lay down with me in so many places that your heavy leg, that blocked my blood every single night, became my leg too, and then, after a while, not even my blood mind having it's destiny blocked by you.

You loved me so much that, even not being able to love me completely, you didn't want to let me go and you were killing our love little by little, using against me all the things that, one day, were all the things I could offer as charming to you. You pulled all my limits and made me discover parts of myself that I didn't know they were there, you brought the best and worst, brought that butterfly feelings.

You were truly mine, were mine with everything, were mine day and night for all these days we shared. For all these years, I lived more you then myself. Everyday I woke up in the morning I needed to know what you were needing, even before I could remember that I was also a person and need things, too.

I walked away because, even if I tried, cried, prayed, whised, begged, begged lowered, kneel down, scremed, whispered and thought, I realized my need of you would never be met, because, in some way that until now I don't know, you stole me from myself and my serach was endless because it was not accurate.

And for the first time, in so many years, I understood that I was needing me, not you.

And even while I get down on my knees and gather the pieces of me, I can't deny that many of them are completely yours. We messed ourselves so much that only Alanis' songs could explain my feeling of having my head over feet. You are always going to be part of what is inside me and, even with skeptical eyes, all beautiful we had will never change.

"Only love is not enough", we repeated that so many times. And I needed not to see you in my life anymore, this way I could try to start any phrase, any conversation, any thought and any text with any other word that wasn't YOU.

And my old speech (that is yours) would be said with your tone of voice (which I know all tones) that for me, our love is a bunch of  exaggerated experiences to turn, in the end, a beautifl text.

I, however, disagree. For me our love was true and it's a shame it ended this way, gathered in a bunch of sad words on the floor, with no glue.

My castle collapsed and I chose to rebuild my world without you. By choice, not by lack of love.

And now I've got to tell you, I've been living softly and I've been discovering myself, with other people, and I've allowed myself to be loved, to be wooed. And I'm getting happier and happier. And I wish you can find your happines. Alone. 'Cause now, I don't feel responsible for it anymore.

As Muhammad Ali said " I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want".

About the shells, the pearls and memories

All loves are empty shells, all hearts are broken one day. But, when we find someone to lay on our side and count stars with us, it's like a pearl sprung inside the shell and made us forget about dark and lonely. I know you're afraid and I also am, but life came to be lived and if one day someone steals your pearl, you must have a certainty: you won't die and when you less expect, another pearl springs.
Our love is stupid, but it's good. Those who chose to hide from it for security don't hurt themselves, it's a fact, but also never count stars at dawn nor, in the end of life, have a necklace of memories to tell.

Inadequate

January 1st, 05h00 a.m.

Look at the time.

Was this my gift?

An insomnia and an uneasy stomach, taking the pains of my heart that refuses to go through this again. The fear of facing a "new year" not so happy, of facing a "new year" not so easy, of facing a "new year" with no love.

I'm sorry, my dear, it's not your choice. Wine and pillows on hand: Here we go.

Between a sob and another, there is always a break for breathing.

Wish ME a happy 2011.

Partida

HÁ EXATOS 9 ANOS ELA PARTIA.

SINTO SUA FALTA, MÃEZINHA... OBRIGADA POR TUDO! ESTEJA BEM! OLHE POR MIM.