Nem tudo o que a gente perde é perda.
Até porque tudo o que não faz bem não é verdadeiramente seu.
Quando uma coisa que a gente achava que era propriedade nossa deixa de ser, (ou a gente descobre que nunca foi), a sensação de fracasso é inevitável, eu sei.
Isso é porque a gente tem essa mania de achar que perder é a incapacidade de manter.
Mas perder é na verdade uma habilidade que pouquíssimos têm.
A gente acha que é dono de tanta coisa nessa vida que não percebe que as coisas se tornam donas da gente.
Perder, as vezes, é ganhar.


Not everything we lose is a loss.
Also because what makes you no good is not really yours.
When one thing we used to perceive as our property stops being,  (or we realize it never was), the feeling that we failed is inevitable, I know.
That's because we think losing is the incapacity of keeping.
But losing is sometimes a skill only few have.
We think we own so many things in this life we don't realize things started to own us.
Sometimes losing is winning.

When people ask me if I'm okay, I justify my "I'm not okay" face with a  dragged "I'm tired" excuse.
"I'm tired, too tired to pretend I'm okay", would be the full sentence. But I'm too tired, not only to complete my sentences, but also to explain them.
Every word I say seems to be crawling out of me.
Even written words. They don't come out easily.
I force them out, in hopes they are just like slow walkers walking out of trains.
I hope they are just blocking the way, and once they are out, the others will be free to come out too.
But what if there's no such thing as others.
What if the words don't want to come out because there aren't enough words to come out without leaving the train empty? What if the few that came out were the only ones I had left.
And what would be a train without passengers?
It will always has its hopes the next stop new passengers will come in.
But is there a bigger purpose for a train than to transport as many passengers as it can from a place to another?
Walking around with no passengers, on the other hand, would be unreasonable.
And I can't discard the possibility that maybe this train transports unanimated things.
If so, they won't come out until it gets to its destiny, where there are people waiting to get them outside the train and we have to work with the possibility that there are no people waiting for them at all.
So I have some options: I can keep on track, hoping it's just slow walkers blocking the exits of this train. Or hoping in the next stop new passenger will come, if it's empty. Or hoping I'm carrying unanimated things, but important to those who are waiting for them. Therefore, hoping there are people waiting for them.
Or I can stop the train. Leave the conductor cabin for a little. Check the cars. The passengers. Unanimated or not. If there's none. Keep conducting the train until the next stop. Repeat the process at every stop. Hope for the best. Whatever "the best" means.

But this is overhope.
This train carries too much hope.
But "this" is me.
I am not a train.
My words are not passengers nor unanimated things.
So if you don't want to listen about trains and passengers and unanimated things, you should not ask "What's on your mind?" to people whose's minds sanity you're not very sure about, facebook!
I hope I made my point.

Life is a stranger.

Whose face we think we recognize.

We feel like we've never seen it before.

Life is a woman.

We beg her not to leave. We just see it passing by. Everybody wants to control her.

They will tell her "just the tip". 

But for her it's all or nothing. And you should know "no" means no 

Don't be a raper.

Life is a man.

Swallows tears. Fakes laughs. Just wants to fuck. 

Wants to cry. Wants to laugh real laughs. Wants to fuck. 

Don't be raped. 

Life is a kid.

Selfish. Cries out loud. Wants to eat the desert before the dinner.

Makes it all worth it.

Reminds you of how you were.

And carries the tomorrow on the shoulders. 

Some people carry it on the shoulders.

Sometimes life is the shoulder. 

Life is your biggest dream and your biggest fear.

Life makes you wonder why you are still here.

Still this is exactly where you are supposed to be.

Life is hate. Life is love.

Life is something you can't take anymore.

Life is hope one day you are gonna make it.

Life is you. Life is me. Life is all of us.

Life is everything that breaths.

Life kills. Life is killed.

Life lives.

Life is.