Process

We loved, lived, and lavished our time together. We got to know one another, investigated each others darkest secrets, leaving each other naked, vulnerable. Here we stand, holding hands, all but one month shy of a year after. What else is there?Or was that it, surprises are over. We know everything , so what will keep things interesting.Here we stand, naked before each other, with nothing else to offer, nothing else to give to one another. Except...That tiny door...Shall we unlock our tiny doors, is it time?Is it right?Are we prepared?

Picture Perfect

Can I say your perfect?Posso assumir que não vê  os erros que cobrem seu corpo. Esta cedo, adimito, para fazer previsões drásticas, más tens que adimitir, todos os fatos indicam que o fim está mais próximo do que ja esteve.
   Então, qual a solução, para um problema tão complexo...

Ternura

Ternura
Eu te peço perdão por te amar de repente
Embora o meu amor
seja uma velha canção nos teus ouvidos
Das horas que passei à sombra dos teus gestos
Bebendo em tua boca o perfume dos sorrisos
Das noites que vivi acalentando
Pela graça indizível
dos teus passos eternamente fugindo
Trago a doçura
dos que aceitam melancolicamente.
E posso te dizer
que o grande afeto que te deixo
Não traz o exaspero das lágrimas
nem a fascinação das promessas
Nem as misteriosas palavras
dos véus da alma...
É um sossego, uma unção,
um transbordamento de carícias
E só te pede que te repouses quieta,
muito quieta
E deixes que as mãos cálidas da noite
encontrem sem fatalidade
o olhar estático da aurora.

Little Mistake

You'll spread the secret up six ways. You'll shoot me dead. Cover up everything, like it never existed. Then live every day the same. Melancholy will engulf every aspect of your being. You'll seek help, asking experts to help, yet giving no explanations to your silence. You'll regret it all.
   So hustle, hustle, hustle. Hurry up and finish out your miserable life. Hope it was worth it, that one bullet. Because when you dug my grave, you signed your sentence. I died once, you shall die everyday for the rest of your life.

-Sincerely yours

Conscience

Porque?

 A propósito, porque tantos brasileiros (e alguns portugueses) vem ao meu blog SÓ pelo motivo de olhar o post "Long Live Youth"?

Lacking a Clever Mind

Things havent been the same. People changed. You have changed. I have changed. Where will this confusion take me? Somewhere new I hope. I need something new. And once it happens, and im blown away and taken hostage by its incredible details, I shall look back on this moment. The moment I lacked a clever mind.

Your Biggest Sin

Is it violence, that palgues the land

Is it ignorance, that spreads in epidemic proportions across all nations

Could it be greed?A few wealthy holding back the fortunes of billions
Well I think... I think its silence
Our biggest crime?Silence, acceptance of the unaccepting.
We stand for what should not be stood for, and in return suffer the guilt and reprecussions
So join those who dont stand quiet in the corners, nodding heads, like sheep following the sheperd.
Lift up your fists and fight for everything you disaprove of in this world,because without revolt, we get no Revolution.

Facilmente Não Existe Por Aqui

Me diz que tens medo, e te direi o mesmo. Me diz que esta esperando algo desconhecido, e te direi que não virá.
 O que aconteceu com este mundo. Não concordamos em nada, a não ser descordar. Agressivos, exaustos, frios. Sei como que as coisas são. Fomos deixados para trás. Posso até estar  errado, más até ser provado contrário, vou seguir pensando em meus ideáis. Ao mesmo tempo, todos se encaixam em seus lugares, todos exercemos uma função indesepensavél
  

"Please help me"...Please help him

  This is not the face of a desperate man. He cannot be beaten at life.What drove you here?What pushed you over?
  I walk through the glass revolving doors, dragging my wet squeaking sneakers across the marble floor and into the carpeted atrium. I've always encountered strange individuals in this library. The  exccentric young man with his shopping cart, or the petite old lady who comments histrionically on young couples.
But what i was about to see, I had not been prepared for.
 I browsed for my research book, skimming across the shelf, when i accidentally bumped into him. Before sight could justify contact, I sniffed his presence. A sweaty, used smell. "Oh I'm sorry" I muttered.
   But as this middle age man looked up, crows feet hugging his eyes, all I could see was defeat. This individual had given up.
  At his hands was a single page of paper, neatly divided into various columns, and there it read: "Please help me...Please Help me...Please Help me...Please Help me...Please Help me...Please help me...Please Help me..." . It went on  and on, covering the entire page.
    I abruptly skipped away, trying to find my book and escape that aura of pain.
  After scouring every shelf, acceptance of its absence was my only choice. I walked towards the glass exit doors, only to be halted by a hiss... "Hey! take this, it will help". The man handed me a paper with library information explaining how I could attain my research information online. He waddled back to his desk, collapsing his head between his hands in an expression of exhaustion.
   I stood there, holding the paper in awe. A
    Someone, somehow destroyed by life, decided to make mine a little easier. Someone cared. I'm not alone after all.

The pointless post

Its that feeling I get, when you caress my chest.
Its that feeling I get when you call me names.
Its that feeling I get when you say I'm a failure.
Its that feeling I get when I feel nothing at all.


Can we work it out, can you buy me time? You will spare me my life in exchange for knowledge, for warmth. To learn to be human? To learn to die. To learn to avoid suffering.What we do for a better soul. Will you do it?

 I learned to expect only one thing in life, disappointment from the expected.So this time the wind will carry me, guide me, to the unexpected.

Melting Crystals

Sparks fly, arms soar, feet float
Hundreds around yet you feel imprisoned and  isolated
Nothing to lose, so fire away
there is no distinguished sound anymore
just jolts, that vibrate throughout your core
You are back, you are present, you are noticed
not invisible, not quiet, not unoticed
they shall shoot you down, judge you, and call you names
yet in the end, attention was your  dream, now wasnt it?

Vague

She cant hold the conversation. He cant hold his tongue. Everything is ending, theres no use pretending. Tension builds, tears collapse.  Stop the torture, stop the drama. You don't deserve the attention. Just live, stop dreaming about death.

    It doesn't matter how hard i try to understand the people in my life, to me, they shall always be an enigma. Sometimes our traditions seem pointless and vague. What is the greater reason? Where do these emotions come from. This makes no sense, yet I am only certain of one thing... "Sábio é aquele que conhece os limites da própria ignorância".  I'm aware of my ignorance, of my flaws, of my weaknesses. Now is time to search for my strengths.

Ripples in the water

What will be left behind?One day this body will decay and the world will have one less inhabitant.But what will I  leave behind?Life long achievments?A prestigious career?A widowed wife? Were all but pawns, in a game of kings and queens. Just another ripple in the water. Another cloud in the big blue sky.
   So how far up may I go, in ,my infinite journey to achieve perfection. Im not a poet, a profet or a professor. I am but just a boy, finding his own path. No matter what the outcome, I shall never hold regrets. The wind shall blow, the leaves shall fall and I will be gone, living on only in your memories.

Hold each other in the dark

   Are you the Prozac to my life?Numb, that's what I am these days. Hows it gonna be when you don't know me anymore?That boy that captivated you, turned stranger.It seems confusing to comprehend. But I am just a diamond in the rough, just struggling to mature. So hows it gonna be, when your dreams fall from the clouds, and shatter against the rotten pavement? I wish things could be different. I wish I could be your crystal baller, and reveal to you all the answers. But wheres the fun in that, wheres the imagination?We shall meet each other in the dark.

Back from the dust

    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We all go back to whatever we came from. We all regress slowly in life, eventually. But you, you appear immortal. You have beat mother nature at its own game.
Burn in your own fire,and arise from your own ashes. Could almost infer that you are the phoenix of my life, always coming back for something.But why wont you just stay  as the ashes you become, stay burnt, remain forgotten...

Libre

Time fleets, yet somehow we shall manage. Each day shall be unique, lleno de sorpresas, cheio de mistérios. The ground shall shake, the ceilings shall  split, and we shall dance. We shall dance incessantly. Its time. Time to let go, to forget all our worries, all of our troubles and become evoked with the power  vested inside us. Time express all of our secrets,  expose ourselves. Unzip your skin, and become naked. Become vulnerable, be free...

Onde me levará

Second week on a hotel floor. When will it stop? It will never stop.
   Hes sure this is the permanent course his life will take, there is no alternative, and no room for complaints.
But if he has no choice, why doesn't this urge to settle down cease? He wants to stay put, have a home, have roots. His parents always been afraid to stop, to stay put. They have always feared the thought  of growing accustomed to life in one place, and slowly but surely watch the years fly by. But this life isn't a permanent adventure. This teenager isn't so easily amused. Hes exhausted, hes tired, hes alone. How long until he can have a home?How long until he has friends; friends he doesn't have to say farewell to. Homeless, foreign and confused, again. Its sad that this life has become routine.

Its never a fair deal

  What are you waiting for?Is it me on your mind? Is it someone else? There are others I'm sure, that are far better in every aspect. Better looking, better listeners, better partners. But to say I regret becoming who I am couldn't be farther from the truth. I am my past, I am my experiences, my laughs, my tears. I am everyone I ever met. I am so many things. So take me the way I am, or don't take me at all.

Long Live Youth

What if  just tonight, we forget were teenagers. Run off into the dark woods, and release our souls to nature.
Lets let our dreams and imaginations dance on the sparkling skies above us. Let us travel back to where we belong, to where we were meant to dwell. And upon arriving there, everyone will be smiling, with joy filled hearts. Everyone, even the ones who long ago left the physical world for better prospects. Let us enjoy this one final night together, let us all be young, let us all live. I miss you, I'm coming home...

Change

   I've been so fragile lately. So perceptive to the small things around me. I feel older, like I'm leaving behind my teenage spirit and trading in for something else. Something unknown still even to me. Am I shedding , morphing into something new? Young, young, young. That's what we all want, to stay young, but in this moment of mine , I can feel this is right. This is going somewhere, I'm going somewhere different, my soul is finally moving on.

Days of Dreams...

  A wise man once said once said "Every man dies. Not every man really lives". His name was William Wallace, one of the main leaders during the Scottish Wars of Independence.
Although what he did is irrelevant to me, his words  had profound affect on my persona. Am I living? Am I really taking advantage of my youth? Soon I will be 18 years old, and what do I have to say for myself?What life accomplishments have I achieved, what dreams have I fulfilled?

    Some could argue that I'm still young, brimful with energy, love and knowledge. Perhaps they are right, perhaps my time is coming, my turn to shine is approaching. But can I not plan my future?Hope and dream?That is how people achieve their life long goals isn't it?By dreaming and striving until they achieve everything they want? Lets make it a good year...

Sentido

"Ser feliz não é conseguir o que deseja, é desejar o que já possui."(Garth Brooks)

  Estamos sempre  nos queixando, lamentando a falta de dinheiro , de bens materiais. Nunca estamos conformados, satisfeitos com o que possuimos. Sempre desejamos mais, e porque não desejar?Afinal temos o direito de crescer na vida, de ter uma ambição que nos permita realizar todas as nossas fantasias, por mais absurdas que sejam. Más tive a realização hoje que, por mais que eu queira algo, tenho muito mais que outros. Parece infantil, essa realização, porém me marcou ao pensar que a vida poderia ser uma grande desilusão, e por isso me contento um pouco, meu dia teve sentido.

   

In need

Wandering past you, thousands of times, it seems we've become old acquaintances. There you remain, throughout the years, known by all for the kind smile and scintillate blue eyes. Your clothes tell the story of your past, each stain, rip and smudge. In town you carry a privileged title, renowned and appreciated by all, who praise the constant good wishes and compliments you preach as they pass by.
   You are deeply beloved to all of us. Yet, despite all of our appreciation, we never even asked your name, or how you came to be, this poor displaced man. We never retributed kindness. Perhaps we are, in reality, ,Mr. Homeless man, the poor ones. We lack compassion, we are the ones in need.

Mente aberta

Não adianta pedir explicações sobre Deus;você pode escutar palavras muito bonitas, mas no fundo, são palavras vazias. Da mesma maneira que você pode ler toda uma enciclopédia sobre o amor e não saber o que é amar.
   Ninguém vai conseguir provar que Deus existe, ou que não existe. Certas coisas na vida foram feitas para serem experimentadas-nunca explicadas. O amor é uma destas coisas. Deus-que é amor-também  é. A fé é uma experiência infantil, naquele sentido mágico que Jesus nos ensinou:"É das crianças o Reino dos Céus."
    Deus nunca vai entrar por sua cabeça-a porta que ele usa é seu coração.

-do livro,Maktub

Perceptions

  Worries. They plague me, follow me to the darkest corners of my consciousness. What will I do if I fail to achieve my goals?What will happen if I miscarry my objectives . Will I be strong enough to cope with reality, with the guilt that haunts me?
   Maybe its all a matter of perception. Perhaps victory should be the only option. Why have an alternative?
All my life we've made plans for the future. Plans that supposedly would lead us to a better place, but instead just dislocated us even more from what little roots we already possessed. Eventually I just lost hope on cogitating  plans, in order to spare myself the disappointment.

   Recently, something has materialized in me. Something new,fresh. A will. A craving to succeed, to grasp every single dream  I have, to stay with that special person that calms my heart. Were all broken people, imperfect and ignorant. Its how willing we are to admit our imperfections and how much we drive ourselves to correct them, that separates us from the rest. 

Endless conversations

   What will she think  of me,when every single secret is out? What will she want from me, when she can predict every single date we go on? Am I a simple hour-glass, slowly ceasing with time? Love is trusting that person with your deepest feelings, trusting them with everything that makes "you", you. Why is it worth it?Why trust?Why have eight hour conversations and tell them every aspect of your short lived life. Maybe you feel the need to let out, let go of some of the past that haunts you . Or maybe sharing helps heal some of the old wounds that still sting late at night when your mind is empty. Ill walk the infinite road, reveal my most secretive layers and hope for the best. Afinal, sou apenas humano,não?

Bubbles

We move in hoards, trampling the weak, ignoring their pleas for assistance. Were all on a mission, yet sometimes we don't know for what purpose. Refuse to stand near the elderly woman in front of you in line, fearing contact, fearing  conversation. Our world has been united by travel, by inventions, yet we have never been more separate. Segregation has devoured our culture like an insidious cancer. All that results are labels, hate, assumptions, and ignorance.
   Nearby, another elderly woman being assisted with her documentation shows disagreement. Her voice becomes elevated and discontent emanates throughout the expanse room.
 "Não vou aceitar isso! Não saio daqui até resolver esse assunto!" she screams, determined to solve her problems  by causing a stir of attention.
   The people who were previously isolated in their own bubbles, hypnotized by their electronic apparel, now are suddenly drawn to the drama. It's much more entertaining than any friend they were texting for sure.
We are abruptly united by the dilemma, eyeing each other with certain approval, nodding and laughing softly at the one sided argument unfolding before us.
    This is what brings us together, he thinks, this keeps us united...

Feeling twisted...

Yes the title is best describing my mood right now...

Por onde andei...

Andei por vários caminhos ao decorrer da minha vida, e todos me mudaram, me moldaram. Sou quem sou pelo que passei todos esses anos. E apesar de me arrepender de muito, me orgulho de muito mais. Aqui estou, feliz e satisfeito. Não preciso de ninguém e de nada além da própria cabeça e o chão  em que piso.
Más querer e precisar são duas coisas diferentes...Acho que quero mais do que tenho e só posso rezar e esperar. Esperar que consiga tudo em que sonho possuir.
     Espero que pela primeira vez na minha vida, felicidade não tenha limites...
O que é ser feliz?É não ser demasiado exigente...

"Quando te dás conta de que nada te falta, o mundo inteiro pertence-te"
(Lao Tzu)

What I was waiting for

    Arriving here and restarting , once again, scared me. Ive always been used to picking up and going somewhere new. I had to be, after all  I had no choice. And after all did I not have the right?High school is scary and intimidating. Walking those deep hallways all i could hope for was invisibility. I wanted to disappear, to go unnoticed. Yet that didn't happen and it occurred  to me that maybe I was even being stalked. Being the new one, you feel preyed upon.  But how could I protest?What could i possibly do. Nothing.
   Leaving everyone that ever meant  something to me proved to be the hardest thing Ive ever been put through.Leaving my culture, my language, my friends, my family. How could that void ever be filled? In a foreign place, with strangers surrounding me, and cold segregation.Yet somehow I gained someone. I gained a piece  to fill my void.I feel like i have new family, I can only hope it continues to grow

   

Fonte da Juventude

 E se pudéssemos ser jovens para sempre, encapsulados e protegidos contra as tendências naturais que sempre acabaram nos afetando. E se fossemos eternos, sempre aprendendo, crescendo, renovando nossa sociedade e seus habitantes. E se quissesemos ser perfeitos, e seguir a vida de um modo tranquilo e sereno, sem confrontos ou barbaridades. Será  um sonho possível?  Será que , um dia, possamos viver como uma comunidade unida, ou estamos predestinados  a uma vida de segregação?

Fearful Future and Alarming Independence

The last year. A year all students wait eagerly for. The year of freedom, independence. Despite cheerful of the opportunities that lay ahead, he's afraid. What lies upon that golden coated horizon?What emotions will shower upon him in the coming months.

Worth the weakness...

What makes your heat beat faster? Who  makes your world stop, your mind explode into a supernova of warm thoughts? Reminiscing his family and sepia printed daydream thoughts, he can only sigh and  ponder upon what the future may bring. Hopefully,  many laughs and heart felt memories. And although  now he sees  tears slipping off his chin into the steam brewing beverage he holds cautiously, the boy cannot help but to smile. " I  have things in my life that are so important to me, they give me moist eyes.That is motive for happiness" .

Há pessoas que nos falam e nem as escutamos, há pessoas que nos ferem e nem cicatrizes deixam mas há pessoas que simplesmente aparecem em nossas vidas e nos marcam para sempre.-Cecília Meireles.

  

  Faz tempo que sigo um caminho distorcido em minha vida. Faz tempo que me sinto deslocado. Só quero ser feliz, e ter sempre esperança suficiente em meu coração para continuar vivendo,aturando os problemas que se amontoam. Não estou em casa, nao é meu lar. Más como Cecília indicou, tem aquelas pessoas especiais na vida, que nos fazem sentir coisas incriveís.

 Por  mais que eu sinta essa saudade dentro do peito, tenho de ter paciência.Todos mereçemos felicidade, minha vez ainda está por chegar.

Balada Do Mangue-Vinicius de Moraes

"Pobres flores gonocócicas
Que à noite despetalais
As vossas pétalas tóxicas!
Pobre de vós, pensas, murchas
Orquídeas do despudor
Não sois Lœlia tenebrosa
Nem sois Vanda tricolor:
Sois frágeis, desmilingüidas
Dálias cortadas ao pé
Corolas descoloridas
Enclausuradas sem fé,
Ah, jovens putas das tardes
O que vos aconteceu
Para assim envenenardes
O pólen que Deus vos deu?
No entanto crispais sorrisos
Em vossas jaulas acesas
Mostrando o rubro das presas
Falando coisas do amor
E às vezes cantais uivando
Como cadelas à lua
Que em vossa rua sem nome
Rola perdida no céu...
Mas que brilho mau de estrela
Em vossos olhos lilases
Percebo quando, falazes,
Fazeis rapazes entrar!
Sinto então nos vossos sexos
Formarem-se imediatos
Os venenos putrefatos
Com que os envenenar
Ó misericordiosas!
Glabras, glúteas caftinas
Embebidas em jasmim
Jogando cantos felizes
Em perspectivas sem fim
Cantais, maternais hienas
Canções de caftinizar
Gordas polacas serenas
Sempre prestes a chorar.
Como sofreis, que silêncio
Não deve gritar em vós
Esse imenso, atroz silêncio
Dos santos e dos heróis!
E o contraponto de vozes
Com que ampliais o mistério
Como é semelhante às luzes
Votivas de um cemitério
Esculpido de memórias!
Pobres, trágicas mulheres
Multidimensionais
Ponto morto de choferes
Passadiço de navais!
Louras mulatas francesas
Vestidas de carnaval:
Viveis a festa das flores
Pelo convés dessas ruasAncoradas no canal?
Para onde irão vossos cantos
Para onde irá vossa nau?
Por que vos deixais imóveis
Alérgicas sensitivas
Nos jardins desse hospital
Etílico e heliotrópico?
Por que não vos trucidais
Ó inimigas? ou bem
Não ateais fogo às vestes
E vos lançais como tochas
Contra esses homens de nada
Nessa terra de ninguém!"

How long...

He just wanders around, unnafected by winter winds, while dreaming far away, thousands of miles across that frozen ocean  bay. Where did all the good people go? I listen to the consoling ocean breeze, as the sun clasps me with a tender embrace. When will it all be reality again?When will I  be able to stop dreaming, and open my eyes to the genuine thing. For how much longer will I have to cry on your shoulder?

Vinicius...

Eu deveria estar dormindo, estou plenamente ciente disso, más embora amanhã eu vá estar totalmente exausto, tenho que postar isso...

Ditados: Vinicius de Moraes...

• Se o amor é fantasia, eu me encontro ultimamente em pleno carnaval

• De manhã escureço, De dia tardo, De tarde anoiteço, De noite ardo

• A vida é a arte do encontro, embora haja tantos desencontros pela vida

• Ser feliz é viver morto de paixão

• A vida só se dá para quem se deu

• O uísque é o melhor amigo do homem, ele é o cachorro engarrafado

On Pensive nights...

Uneasy

He stares at the screen with still eyes. He wishes his fingers would dance over the keyboard, expressing everything he felt.But they remain paused, as if paralyzed by  the fear that thee words written arent good enough. Are they good enough?Do any of his thoughts make sense?Will they find him any different from the other thousands of applicants?

Tunes, Thoughts & Tensions

Reflexion is the key to explore ones own identity. Or is it the gateway to insanity? Can too many thoughts drive us to self destruction? Maybe the mind should have an "off" button. Available whenever we stray from reality and enter the dangerous realm of imagination.
    Leaping over countless puddles on his way back, these thoughts struck him continuously. No music was available, no tunes to soothe his soul and mind. He looked at the sky with cogitative eyes. Curiosity struck," is there something else?". "Was If  this is it". Was life really surrounding him?
   Laughs  from nearby teenagers broke his train of thought, shooting his attention back to the glistening wet  sidewalks before him. Get home, get home now he thought.

Therapy

His eyes are consoled and untroubled. Slowly, they scan the surroundings. An infinite number of conversations take place around him. The station is a flurry of activity , so busy that he can see agitation dancing above the crowd and scowering up to the sky colored ceiling.
   Slowly his fingers slither into the lint filled pockets of the old navy blue jeans.A moment later, his hands reveal a cracked mp3 player. Its deep chips and scratches suggest extended use.
His fingers pounce a couple of times over the buttons, changing the current song to a more subtle tune.
Observing crowds always called for morecalmer vibrations.

This was therapy. This was his reality. Watching, analyzing. Spending countless afternoons in busy Grand Central Station. He couldn't be any more entertained than this. Groups passed by often speaking in unknown tongue, but every once in a while he would hear the familiar tone of fellow countrymen.
 Although all from a different place, they all share traits he thought. Arguments and fear,curiosity and enjoyment. Smiles, curling their lips. No matter where from, they are all equal.
"We are all so equal" he thought,"all  so equal, yet so different, so unique".

This thought was followed by a familiar vibration in his left pocket.

The call. Therapy session was over. "Back to reality" he thought, as he picked up his checkered bag and disappeared into the streaming crowd.

He was one of them now. The unique ,yet similar crowd...

What if...

What if life handed us all our wishes? What if we didn't have to try to succeed? "Worry" would be a non-existent noun. But how could society work at this pace? Without challenges we would be lazy, there would be no need for growth. Humans would not evolve, they would see no reason in striving to achieve things. Perhaps challenges are our greatest companions. We can grow as a society, and perfect ourselves through the challenges presented to us.

What if the world was imperfect and demanding?  Does this allow us to grow?