segunda-feira, 23 de maio de 2016

Alone

Sometimes I feel betrayed.
Not by the people I thought that should be by my side, but by myself for trusting them.
Sometimes I feel angry.
Not at people who make me lose control, but at myself, for losing control so easily.
Sometimes I feel hated.
Not by the people who hate me, but by myself for not putting enough effort to be likable.
Sometimes taking the blame is not an option.
These are the times I realize:
Who is here to blame besides me?

sábado, 21 de maio de 2016

Strength

If you ever read this, it means you're at least aware I still exist.
And I write this for the you I secretly hope is aware I still exist.
I would like to say I am sorry.
I am sorry for every expectation that worked as a brick for the altar I built hoping you would be standing there, so you would stand out from everyone else, so I could see you better.
I didn't realize you would hide behind it instead.
And when you did, I tried to reach you, I ran towards you, but, apparently, you thought I was trying to run over you.
And you ran away.
That's because when I stepped in the altar that I unfortunately built, that unfortunately was in the way, you saw me from below which made me look bigger and stronger, and more demanding than I actually was.
I just wasn't on my knees, because I never knew how to pray.
Running after you was the way I found to show you how desperately I was begging you not to go.
I am writing this in hopes you know I still exist, but not in the way I used to, not like the last image you saw when you looked back while running for your life, threatened by my chase. I hope you didn't choose to forget me.
Like the wardrobe monster is for a child, sometimes the child faces it, sometimes they prefer not to open the wardrobe.
I hope you didn't give up. I hope you opened the wardrobe and realized the monster is actually a cute pet.
 I hope I'm not a scary thought to you. I hope I don't intimidate you anymore. I hope you stopped thinking I'm strong, because I'm not. I, actually, never was. I hope you now, look back, and laugh, remember my desperate race and find it quite fumbling.
And I tell you that I hope all of this in secret, because the mask I had to wear just so you wouldn't hurt me even more for running away, is still here.
I still pretend I'm strong, because after you left, I got weaker.
And you know how weak creatures don't survive in this world.
Acknowledging I'm weak, I have to pretend I am strong.
So I wear my strongest armour as if I were a warrior.
But, as you see, this is not a war. I am not a warrior.
I am a weak human wearing a strong armour.
The strength belongs to the armour, not to me.
Human needs are never stiff, therefore, humans can't be stiff in order to satisfy their needs. So the real strength a person could own is not stiff, like an armour has to be.
The biggest strength a human could own is vulnerable.
Because vulnerability screams "I'm at risk, I could get harmed", which is what humanity is all about.
Didn't you hear before that the only thing we, humans, know for sure is that we're all gonna die?
But who of us is brave enough to face the world knowing that everything could get us killed?
Who can leave the armour behind?
Only the strong ones.
And I want to be strong.
And we were never strong.
Only a strong person would stand in an altar.
Only a strong person would let go of a strong armour.
Only a strong person allows itself to be vulnerable.
Only strong people would do what we didn't have enough strength to do.
We were never strong.
I hope one day we'll be strong.
Strength.

sexta-feira, 20 de maio de 2016

Desabafo

Eu queria muito que você visse o caco que eu tô.
Desde que você se foi, só sobrou gente vazia, que quer pouco, quase nada.
Coisa que gente que nem a gente nunca vai entender.
Porque a gente sempre quis tudo, mesmo quando o muito que a gente tinha não cabia no abraço.
A gente sempre precisou de mais que o infinito pra sentir completude.
Mas eles se satisfazem com miséria.
E eu sinto falta de me doar.
De me entregar de corpo e alma, sabendo que quem me receber vai saber cuidar.
Agora eu vejo esse monte de gente que faz fila para perder o meu tempo.
O medo de nunca mais achar alguém que me transborde me preenche de vazio.
Eu queria alguém que soubesse amar com cada poro, que transpirasse paixão.
A sua eloquência me deixou cega para tudo o que não tem coração. 
Eles não conseguem me acompanhar.
Por mais que tentem, a intensidade daquele nosso ritmo fez moradia dentro da minha pele.
E eles se aproximam orvalhando, mas evaporam com o calor que eu emano. Eles não sabem chover.
Que nem você que lavava tudo por onde passava.
Que me causava vendavais.
Que se misturavam com o furacão aqui dentro.
E eu não posso arrancar do peito esse furacão. Porque esse furacão sou eu.
Tirar isso de mim envolveria me tirar de mim. E eu não posso.
Não quando eu me lembro que você nunca tirou nada de mim.
Sempre foi troca.
A falta que eu sinto é da troca. Sem a sua energia vindo de você pra mim e a minha indo de mim pra você. Eu me sinto oca.
Eu tenho berrado pra sentir ressonar por dentro, mas os meus berros tem quebrado as minhas paredes.
O caco que eu disse no começo.
Sinto a sua falta.




terça-feira, 17 de maio de 2016

Magician reversed


Powerless.
Traveler without purpose.
Not the real deal.
Fake magic.
Tricky.
Lack of knowledge and skills.
Delusional.

When you first saw the magician reversed you saw that old trick of rabbits coming out of a hat.
But now that you asked to see the magic もう一回, you saw the rabbits have no feet. Rabbit's feet give luck, feetless rabbits don't run away.
Their ears are enormous though.
So they can be seen from afar.
You are so thankful you're not a rabbit right now.
You should feel lucky you have your feet.
You're not a rabbit.


terça-feira, 10 de maio de 2016

Expectativas

"Não quero criar expectativas" é a maior mentira que eu conto.
Desde criancinha que eu sonho acordada.
Eu lembro bem de mim, com uma toalha amarela na cabeça achando que um dia seria a nova loira do tchan.
E como vocês podem ver, não, eu não me tornei a sucessora de Carla Perez e Sheila Mello, mas isso não muda o fato de que enquanto eu fui aspirante a sucessora delas, fui muito feliz, esse sonho me proporcionou momentos incríveis.
O mesmo acontece com a vida.
Quando eu vou no mercado comprar um suco de vegetais novo, você acha que eu fico pensando: "Ai, não vou criar expectativas não, vai que é uma bosta"?
Lógico que não! 
Eu já crio na minha cabeça uma historia de amor magnifica com o suco de vegetais, fico imaginando que o gosto da couve vai estar ali, não muito acentuado, só um gostinho pra equilibrar o doce da beterraba, a cenoura, o tomate, o repolho vão estar em perfeita harmonia... Fico imaginando que esse suco vai mudar a minha vida, que vai ser a primeira coisa que eu vou querer tomar quando chegar da academia, e por aí vai...
Eu sou apaixonadinha por expectativas.
Sempre fui!
E muitas das coisas que eu crio expectativas ainda conseguem me surpreender.
Não é porque eu acho que um filme vai ser maravilhoso e ele acaba sendo, que eu me maravilho menos do que me maravilharia se chegasse achando que seria só bom.
Eu parto do principio que felicidade é planta e a expectativa não rega, não nutre o solo, mas motiva a comprar o regador,  procura o local onde o sol bata numa quantidade adequada, tenta adivinhar com qual cor de vaso combina a cor das pétalas de flores que ainda nem nasceram etc. 
E se o sol for fraco demais? Ou forte demais? Se o vaso ficar brega com a cor da flor que é diferente da foto que o vendedor de planta mostrou? Eu faço a Cássia Eller e mudo a planta de lugar!
Porque a vida é isso.
A vida é feita de expectativas.
E o ser humano é isso.
O ser humano foi feito pra saber lidar com coisas que não saem exatamente como o planejado.
Se não não seria vida. Seria programa de computador.
Se não não seria ser humano. Seria robô.
Imagina se a minha mãe tivesse a coragem pra me dizer que eu jamais seria a nova loira do tchan?
Eu jamais teria feito ela se contorcer no chão de tanto rir, enquanto eu equilibrava uma toalha amarela, dançando na boquinha da garrafa.
Certas felicidades, amigos, os outcomes não nos dão, mas as expectativas... Ah, as danadas das expectativas...

sexta-feira, 6 de maio de 2016

Unimportant things

What I've been trying to do is not giving attention to the unimportant things.
And by "unimportant", I mean unimportant to me.
And by "me", I mean my soul.
I'm trying to respect my soul.
That's what I was talking about with my good friend Meri the other day.
She was telling me that she believes that souls sometimes are older than bodies, but still, sometimes our bodies don't respect our souls.
Sometimes we put our souls in situations they don't wanna be.
For example, during our whole lives, we try to fit in.
We try to fit in clothes only people from magazines can fit in (maybe our bodies would fit in, but not our souls, they're too enormous for this mediocre pattern created to be sold).
We try to fit our lives in the hours of a day that is not enough for us to do everything our souls want to do. Plus, we have to balance with the hours our bodies are obligated to do stuff, like eating and sleeping... our bodies are not free like our souls. And we also have to respect that.
We try to fit in groups our souls don't belong to. 
We make our mouths laugh at jokes our souls are not even tickled by. 
We try to make our hearts love things, just because everybody loves, even if our souls are not satisfied and wants to love what they really love.
And at times, what we, souls, want the most is to cry, but our bodies, day by day looking more like robot's, refuse to cry, because they're trained from a very young age not to cry: 1- if it's gonna be embarrassing; 2- if it's not solving problems; 3- if it's just for the good of the soul, and not for the good of the body, as our naive brains tend to think the concept of "good".
Then Meri said something that gave me goosebumps, from head to toes, from heart to soul.
She said: "Sometimes we're in a place full of people, and our bodies are uncomfortable, and because of that, it remains silent, tries to go unnoticed, but our souls? OUR SOULS ARE SCREAMING! But sometimes we don't listen to our souls, no, not sometimes, most of the times."
But what I've been trying to do is giving more attention to the unimportant things.
By "unimportant", I mean unimportant to them.
And by "unimportant to them", I mean I don't care about them if t's important to me.
"Me" still refers to my soul.
I'll always be thankful to people like Meri, who hears, sees, talks and loves with soul.
My soul is happy to have met you.

quinta-feira, 5 de maio de 2016

I wish I had fallen in love with you

I wish I had fallen in love with you.
"Everything in the name of love is excusable" -  they say.
Maybe all the texts I sent after 2am, calling you bad names, saying that I miss you, asking you if it was you whom I saw from the window of the first train going back home in a station way too far from where you live, way too close to where I live, as if my wishful thinking was this strong, would've been forgiven.
Maybe not going to your house because I was too scared of how much you could hurt me would've been less of a coward behavior.
Maybe dreaming of you would feel less surreal.
Maybe I wouldn't have to lie that you are nothing to me, that I'm already over you.
Maybe, if I had fallen in love with you I would look more respectable.
I wouldn't have lost all my dignity in front of you, because doing embarrassing things in front of the person you love is honorable.
Acting like you love a person you feel you could love, not actually loving, is something that only the emptiest of the emptiest hearts could do.
I wish I had fallen in love with you.