Chichen shit

E, de novo, eu tô morrendo de medo.
Medo de ir e medo de voltar.
Medo de que tudo esteja diferente do que eu conheço (e gosto) nas minhas chegadas.

Medo porque eu sei exatamente o que me espera e posso descobrir que, na verdade, eu não sabia era nada.

Medo de chegar e perceber que não sou especial,
E de voltar e perceber que eu sou menos ainda.

Estou com medo de o calor não ser tão quente
ou da escuridão não fazer mais sentido depois de tanta lu

I am looking through you

I only like people whose eyes I can read,

because they are the only ones I can trust.

Amongst

There are the ones who are still looking for

and the ones who found (each other)




And between them, there is me, who insists in not willing to be with neither one nor the others.
Is that possible? I hope so! Now it time for me.


P.S.: This picture was taken by Fernando Gabeira, a Brazilian Deputy. I downloaded it from his blog: www.gabeira.com.br/blog

On the grey cake of today´s sky

Today I woke up.
I left home and I had never imagined there could be such a deep and thick and touchable gray. In my memories, there is no such gray.
Nor there is me.
This gray comes from the sky: so low that I could reach with my hands, by simply rising my heels. So dense that binds the climate, the city and its inhabitants.
Grays all, but me.
I'm red.
Red rules, clothes and politics. Red cycles.
Red in every ways except one:
Red passion.
Searching this meaning, I walk as an errant cherry
looking for a cake to be on.
And, finding no - passion fruit, chocolate, pear, walnuts or blueberry - cake
I decide to match the concrete gray of today´s sky.

Thus, I realize that red and gray go well together,
and also that, at this particular time, there is no other place where I wanna be
more than on this gray cake of freedom and possibilities
where I am now.
And I am grateful for the decisions that led me here.

Nightingale

I simply love this word. It is one of my favorites in English! It reminds of Caetano Veloso, Luiz Márcio and Shakespeare in Love. And birds, and freedom :)

Ilusion

On the days when I despaired the most, when everything seemed in vain and when hope succumbed, my heart rested on the certainty that you would hug me. But there was one condition: I would have you and nothing else. Neither my dreams nor my femininity ... If even the hope - always the last to die - had succumbed, how could I survive?

Dark Chocolate

She gave him a box of chocolate that had been brought by her from far, far away.
The chocolates were melt.
Eventhough, he thanked, with smiling eyes.
Some days later she received his puke: eletronic and bitter.

The Importance

Between those arms
I found out that
my desire
feets in multiple kisses and hugs
It is not doomed to belong to anybody
It is mine only

And I can give it to whomever I want



... later, I just get it back

Strawberry Fields Forever

Strawberries are not only strawberries
Strawberries are winter in Brazil
and spring in Sweden
But the important thing is that, in both places,
There are straberries only when the weather is cool enough
... or warm enough

Optimum temperature!

Neither one, nor another

Despite all the mass with the names, I figured that out: nor God, nor Demon. It was just a man.

Out of the bowl

Peixes, Amanda
Fish, Maritza
Fisk, Alessandra

All pisces
Leaving their traces printed on the water

Between Copenhagen and Madrid, 20.12.2008