Jane says

‘sticks and stones my break my bones, but words can never hurt me’. How untrue this frase is amazes me as every year goes by and I feel the power of each word as it sinks into my being. Words are just words. Or are they? Fat, skinny, messy, freak, loser, uninteresting, undesirable, unwanted, not good enough. Words more powerful then knives as they sink inside our memories. Words can destroy trust, words can create conflicts, words can make or break a man. Mere words are the starting points of wars. Without words, there is no action. Without words, there is no criticism. There is no verbal abuse by parents, no bullying from peers, no descriptions of perfection. Perfect! But, without words, there would be no way to express feelings more powerful then the earth itself. Like love. Ah yes, a word now a days thrown around like a few unwanted coins in a pocket: useful to those who have none, unappreciated by those who have it in abundance. Without words we cannot express the bubbly, warm, electric, almost painful feeling that comes about when love appears. No way to praise, no way to write about beauty. Its hard to imagine a world without worlds.

A bedtime story

before anyone reads this, a few words should be said, or in this case, written. This is not a real story, it is not based on real events and has nothing to do with me. its just a bit of nonsense that came into my mind on a loooong bus ride home and its just a quick try at a short story. read and hopefully enjoy (:
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eyes open in the dark and look up for any sign of a when,where and why. Green lights blinking 6:30 a.m, a when. Its enough to make the skinny body raise in alarm. flashes of the night before passed in her mind. Tequila bottles, vodka and lemons. Now we have our why. A other vision: a smile, flirting and perfume. A hint to our where. She turned slowly, letting her dark blue eyes acostume enough to the darkness to make out a shape on the bed, softly rising to an unheard rhythm.

Very quietly as not to wake him, she got up and started towards the door. A soft call came behind her, and with it her heart sank. A dear caught in headlights. ‘hey, wait a sec’.

She didn’t dare turn and face the nameless figure behind her and fought back the curiosity. The color of his eyes, the smoothness of his complexion, the face that fits the smile in her memory... ‘I need to leave’ was all she could conjure.

Silence, then a click and suddenly the room came into view with a soflt yellow glow. The girl felt a sudden urge to have a peek at the eyes that she could feel where gazing at her. ‘don’t go, wait’ the soft voice whispered. ‘im sorry, but I shouldn’t have done this.’ With the last words said, she took 2 steps forward and stopped for a hand had grabbed her by the wrist, very gently and made turned her around.

Light honey-colored eyes, dark black wavy hair and full red lips filled in a pale freckled face. A perfect face to match his tall and skinny figure. On the nightstand beside the bed where a pair of glasses. ‘oh, so this is what he looks like’ she thought ‘well, at least he fits in to my taste’. A smile escaped her lips as the thought passed through her mind. It triggered the boy to smile too, and she was stunned by how beautiful his smile was and how sweet it made him look.

He let go of her arm and the smile was gone, a questioning look taking its place. ‘do you really have to go?’ he asked her. ‘couldn’t you stay for a bit of breakfeast?’
it didn’t take much thinking for her to surrender to the eyes that patiently waited for an answer. ‘ok, but just a cup of coffe.. then I really need to go.’ She said, curving her lips just a bit into a tiny smile, that was gone even before it could fully spread.

A few words were exchanged before they made there way into the boys kitchen:

‘one quick question, what is your name?’
‘Jane’
‘it’s a pleasure meeting you Jane’

a quick exchange of smiles between two lonely souls before a Sunday breakfast.

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a moments thought

My eyes follow you as you make your way past, just far enough so that your oblivious to my insignificant presence. I make an effort to continue the conversation I was having a couple seconds before with a nameless friend. Your head turns just a fraction. Is it possible you can hear the beating of my heart? You can see the sadness in my moves? The hatred that has come to take its refuge in my body. I fear that you might have noticed, even from such a distance the silent tear that stubbornly falls from my refusing eyes. A materialized thought of what could have been, of what was until you broke it apart.

senses

why is it that when we talk about death people belive it to be depressing. a taboo, bad omen or what not. how could it be such a bad thing if everyone eventually must go? i belive it to be worse being the one left behind, only knowing for certain that i exist and that, sadly, i have eyes to see the tragic events caused by mother nature and her fury, or even worse, by man and his ignorance and fragile mind, so easly corrupted and manipulated; ears to hear the complaints of the lonely souls that must complicate there lives and those around them so as to feel important; a nose to smell the sulphurous acids being expelled into the air, instead of the breathtaking aroma of flowers that should be in its place; a Mouth to taste the chemical concoctions that addict even the strongest and alter the human bodies natural functions; hands, to feel the dirt that builds on each surface, mocking our compulsive need to clean the only mess that is not worth cleaning; a brain, where all the information brought to me by my five vital senses is processed and the horror of it all is realized and transformed into words so i can share it with technology and the few who actually listen to my mumbling nonsense; and last but not least, a heart to despair in such thoughts and to still, surprisingly, have hope for what is to come and to keep on wanting to live on to see it, even when it is in our nature to eventually give in to the light(for i would not dare to call such a fate darkness) and sleep on.

p.s.: this one is a bit depressing, i know. despite it going against my superficial feelings, where i am actually the happiest i have been in the last 3 months, i let my fingers do the typing and these are the words that slipped out. i guess our inner feelings not even we understand, sometimes.

much more than 99 multicolored balloons

Hoje faz um mes des de tudo. um mes que nao consigo pensar em mais nada. Hoje teve uma homenagem em friburgo, na praça do suspiro onde todos que perderam alguem escreviam os nomes deles e mensagens para eles em um balão para ser solto no mesmo momento. é claro que como tudo no Brasil, deu errado.. e muitos, incluindo eu, nao conseguiram soltar junto com o resto por falta de balão. Mas do mesmo jeito, foi algo lindo de se ver, muito mais que 99 voando pelo ar, cada um contendo lembranças de alguem muito querido que partiu. Nessa hora, percebi com quantos o meu sentimento estava sendo compartilhado. e é claro, não seria nem natural não escorrer uma lagrima por tanta tristeza e tantas saudades que cada pessoa vai fazer falta na vida dos outros, assim como o Felipe fará na minha. Pais que perderam filhos, filhos que perderam pais. avós que perderam netos, e por ai vai. é algo muito dificil de se ver. mesmo não tendo soltado o meu no mesmo momento, eu soltei. e com ele foi mandando so um simbolo do que há para expressar. afinal, poderia ter anos e mil homenagens, mas nada, absolutamente nada, conseguirá ser o suficiente.
bem, eu poderia ficar aqui escrevendo, mas nao vou. muitas lembranças foram visitadas hoje e algumas boas foram feitas hoje, mesmo em meio de tanta tristeza. e vamos deixar por ae.

"99 dreams i have had
in every one a red balloon.
Its all over and im standing here.
In the dust that was a city.
If i could find a souvenir.
Just to prove the world was here.
And here it is a red ballon.
i Think of you and let it go. "

Diary & confessions

Well, i was reading my old diary entries from 2010 and i was very suprised do find a long forgotten one..one where i am in much pain because felipe was acting strange and i was afraid of losing his friendship. the entrie is dated 11/03/2010.. long before i could ever imagine actually losing him. in what i wrote, what brought fresh tears and opened even further wounds that i have bean trying so hard, but in vein, to cover was "i am quite positive he is one person i could not live without" and "Felipe, i love you more than i do myself, so please stop this because i cannot bare to lose you." It pains me so much to read it and know that even now, these words did not lose there meaning and even if i have proved them not to be full truths, they are much more than half-truths. I must confess, that most of my days i feel empty inside and life seems to have lost its meaning. i try so fucking hard to make being happy feel right, and laughing something natural, but its so hard. almost to hard. private things happen around me, things i dare not share with the world. and i need him here with me, the only one that new my darkest secrets. even those that weren't even my own to tell. who can i trust in now? who will be here to catch me when i miss a step and fall? who will be here to constantly remind me with a single smile that true love does exist, in diferent ways then the one we see in movies? in the entrie, i found a frase when even a year ago, i could explain the feeling quite well.. " i am not in love. this is a another type of love, a need much greater. I am not right when things are like this". Yes, i really do not know what i should do and find myself talking to the stars every night for the last 28 days(each day he has been dead), hoping he can hear me. i sometimes feel silly, like i am talking to nothing at all. but i still continue, for there is a small chance he does listen. I get angry in the morning if he is not in my dreams, but when he is, i find myself waking up angrier, for i wanted to keep sleeping so that i could be with him. I am a complete and utter mess, and am bewildered how others cannot see right through my fake laughs and twisted smiles. I am even tempted to look into religion to make things feel a bit more bearable. i belive strongly that i need a psychiatrist, just convince my father of this, who ever reads this shit.
p.s.: complete diary entry
p.s.s: quotes time, now: these are quotes i found that remind me of him and explain almost perfectly what i had and lost.

"Don't cry for what might of been, don't live in the past. It was supossed to be forever, well forever never lasts. Lift your head and dry your tears, forget about yesterday. We had the time of your lives, but we must move on, let it fade away..."

"You live and you breathe and then you die. In between, if you're lucky, you fall in love. Some loves stay forever, others are lost in only a day. But it's still there, underneath all the hurt and pride and years. If it's true love, it's never forgotten. So when someone says they're in love, don't tell them they can't be. Don't say they're too young, or it's too soon. Love knows no age or length of time. Love is a feeling, deep in your heart, that squeezes you tight and you never want to let it go"

"Through out your life you will meet one person who is unlike any other. You could talk to this person for hours and never get bored. You could tell them things and they won't judge you...this person is your soul mate, your best friend. Don't EVER let them go"

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life, how do you go on...when in your heart you begin to understand, there is no going back. Ther are some things time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep and have to much of a hold"

"Real loss is only possible when you love the other person more than you love yourself."

well, thats enough for now.

Time capsules and memories

So, i was remembering today how me and Felipe were going to make time capsules last year and burry them together in january. im happy we didnt, cause then i would have to dig them out myself in ten years, and read what he wrote. i had said for us to put a secret of ours, cause when we dug it out, each one would read each others secrets. we were probably to lazy, or to tired or to busy doing other pointless things that we never got around to making these time capsules. im still thinking of making one now, but its lost its fun. i often wonder what his secret was. and i often imagined that when we unburied them, we would be married. silly really, you cant plan these things out. my secret was going to be "i think we are going to be married in 10 years". not sure if its funny, or just sad. Time capsules are just memories we bottle up for a while to remind us of our youth. still, i wish we had made them. Even more, i wish he was here to dig them out if they where underground. Yeah, life is full of suprises. hurray for us. well, no use for a time capsule now, when memories bring pain. kisses to the dead, living and yet to be born.