Alive

Are you afraid of being alive? I caught myself wondering about what else might be missing for me to get back that familiar urge to live and accomplish and achieve and succeed. Soon, one of my greatest worries will be gone. Finally a home rebuilt, finally a safe haven for my kids. So, why do I wake up with that emptiness in my chest? No joy in laughter. No memory of my love for the clouds, just that auto pilot weight of responsability. So suddenly, came a different perspective inside me that says maybe I am afraid of allowing myself happiness only to lose it all over again eventually. And truth to be told, maybe that too shall pass and is just the way things are. Temporary. Yet, necessary. Otherwise you're not even actually ALIVE.

Hidden Doors

I look in the mirror and dive
Into your mysterious gaze
I wonder if your soul hides the colors
That mine is pretending to hide
Do we share hidden doors
To worlds we've built very far
Only dreams in hearts apart
In the dark we give birth to art
And seal the lace of blood at last

Apagar

Sonho com uma presença de reparação. Uma doçura tão intensa que remende as chagas, firmeza e constância capazes de olvidar as lembranças cristalizadas de violência e dor. Um amor que seja paz, não um mar, mas um lago de águas calmas. Busco fazer isso só, mas vou de encontro a calamidades. Como uma semente tentando espalhar raiz sem solo macio. E, exposta ao Sol, padece, endurece, enrijece. Pode pulsar vida, mas ao mundo externo é a encarnação da morte. Morte essa que aceitei já faz muito tempo... Mas se fui despertada do meu sono de morte uma vez, não posso perder esperanças de encontrar a melodia que traz vida pulsando em minhas veias. E eu optei por acreditar, sem pestanejar, apenas me entregar ao fluxo do tempo que nos ilude a todos enquanto traça sagaz seus planos. Porque mereço cura depois de tanto desamor. Porque as raízes foram feitas para abraçar a terra com todo seu coração. Então me ponho a vagar em busca - não de terra fértil, fresca, imaculada- busco a terra que já tem sulcos das marcas que deixei com meus tenros braços de raiz,em outros anos luz, em todas as direções, intimidade construída com moléculas de outras dimensões.

Neutralidade é o caminho do meio

Tenho me concentrado na complexa missão de auto análise e auto controle. A racionalidade esbarra nas emoções de maneiras inesperadas e muitas vezes surpreendentes - mas raramente positivas. Levo a mente por novos caminhos onde não trilhe no desespero e acabe se perdendo. Sinto por um segundo o ar invadir meu corpo, como um alento, e o coração pedindo descanso. Não existe controle, e nisso reside o auto controle. A corda bamba é essa realidade simulada, onde eu me perco na estrada, a mente nas nuvens de algodão, meu coração esquecido na contramão. Me alio então ao silêncio, querido amigo, e me entrego à solidão. No vento esqueço as palavras e deixo partir aquele sonho de infância- existe espaço para sonhar enquanto as horas se atropelam em medo e ilusão?

The gift of pain

Growing up means to look at the past and be able to understand what took place even in scary moments (or apparently good ones) from a more mature point of view. If you remain behaving as a child, angry, frustrated and blaming everyone but yourself for your issues, you will always be unhappy and a bad company to those who care for you.
We are all broken since childhood, because we are like animals waking up to conciousness and past generations didn't had any idea on how to best instruct children to achieve happiness as adults. In this endless cicle of error, parents failed to instruct their children and we are trying to be the ones to break the wheel and bring an end to everlasting mistakes. But we aren't free from error.
Far from it, actually. We have been spreading the gift of pain even before we had a chance to actually choose. I was broken at the age of 6, and I was breaking someone else by the time I was 12. And he was breaking someone else by the time he was 20, spreading like cancer the darkness that dwells within us.
So we sit together and in a hug we cry for what we did to each other, to others, and for what was done to us. One night to remember, understand, forgive, let go and forget. Time to bury the past and to shine free from it.
Can we ever be truly free from it, or shall it always take a conscious effort not to act on the broken shards of our hearts?

Vanish into oblivion

Small. Broken.
I feel like a tiny spec of dust, invisible, undesirable, a burden even to myself.
I lost my voice and just can't seem to fit in this world anylonger. There is just so much pain in waiting for dreams that might never come true...
I am trying to erase myself from the world, no longer chasing purpose, no more illusions in the wind, hide away the clouds.
As I watch from a distant shore, life goes on. I never really did fit, it was a dream, nothing more.

Turn off the light

I have been blessed with such passion for life, for all that is natural and truthful in this universe. It takes me many places all at once, sometimes it feels like I am stretching to grab the whole planet and the sky and all the stars with my bare hands. Although it is an amazing feeling, it's also exhausting. And when I am done at the end of the day, I wanna come home to kindness and a hug full of warmth with no limits. I need to rest my head on a lap offered willingly, and feel a gentle hand stroking my hair into oblivion or maybe into seduction. Maybe both.
And when my body is weary, stumbling upon dreams and losing consciousness fast, I want to be with the one that will turn off the light and tuck in my blanket with a blissful kiss and a smile on his lips, awe and gratitude in his eyes.
No woman needs no man. We are the resisting walls that hold the foundations of the Earth. But how lovely it can be not to need, and still be able to share simple moments of love.