Tuesday, August 31, 2010
But guess what, dad? I don't need it. I'm outspoken and I don't pretend. I don't like playing games, I never have. I'm honest and true from the get-go. And someone will love me for it and find it just as thrilling. Or even more.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Não. Pelo contrário. O corpo não se move porque a alma não respira. Não tem espaço para isso. A felicidade espalha-se do interior até às paredes de pele. Mais e mais a cada dia. Sufoca e engole palavras. Cristaliza qualquer tipo de resposta. Fico com um sorriso idiota estampado no rosto e mais nada. Também que mais é preciso? Sou feliz e basta.
Monday, August 23, 2010
I was wrong. Thank God, I was so wrong! It turns out I'm bigger that myself. Much, much bigger. So many times this year I thought I'd freeze or pull away and I didn't. Numerous times, I didn't. Some little spark in me pushed me forwards into so many things that turned out to be great. Because a tiny fraction of myself - something that now grows without fear - decided to not be afraid of the unknown. And that made all the difference :)
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
I'm not like that. Nor do I want to be. I'm more of a it takes a village philosophy. People helping each other, talking, sharing and letting other people know they care. I ask for help all the time. Not because I can't handle it on my own (of course I sometimes can't; what to say? I'm only human), but a lot of times because I want to let people in, to let them be involved in my life. If helping others makes me feel so good and useful (and happy for the other person that no longer has a problem) why on earth should I feel embarassed to ask for help myself? And I'm a blabbermouth about my life. Seriously! I share my troubles like you wouldn't believe. Yes, sometimes I go a little overboard. But what are friends for if not to tell me to shut my big yapper? As for affection; I'm still getting used to it. But I'm bound to get there someday soon :)
I like people. Honest! Big fan here! And I want to let them in. It's that simple. And why not a village?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
It's time to open those windows. To let in fresh air and happiness. It's time to feel good and be happy. Worries and troubles be damned! Life is short and it's yours. No one's gonna live it for you.
Monday, August 09, 2010
I keep hearing this in my head. It's all mine. Everything this family ownes will eventually be mine. And I don't mean this in a greedy materialistic way. I mean to say there is no one else. When they're gone I'll be alone. It's a sad truth to accept. This family is done for, I will be the last one standing. Try as I might I can't put how it feels into words. The impending loneliness. One day I will be without a family. Can you imagine that? No safety net. No people to belong with. No clan.
Unless I start a family of my own. That is the shining light I focus on. The little firefly I follow. Friends and loved ones. I will not be alone.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
It's odd. And as much as I sometimes want to leave it all behind and start anew and on my own, the fact is that's where I come from. I should give it a chance. Even if it's painful to remember.
The houses are old, practically falling apart. And now it's time to empty them, since we've basically been using them as a very old and decrepit storage space. Two huge attics. I've spent the morning walking around and going through boxes and boxes of toys, books (so many hidden pearls), old photographs (first time I saw a picture of my great grandfather), and so many other things. It has the exact feel as something out of a horror movie; every single time I had to open a closet or a closed door I half expected a corpse to fall down on me.
But still it's history. My history. And I'm the only one left to keep it going. If I don't show an interest or if I fail to learn it, it will die. People in old pictures will be just people. Random strangers smiling at us. Names on letters will be just names and special objects will lose their meaning. I feel like Vergilio Ferreira in Aparição. And it's sad.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Thursday, August 05, 2010
There was this huge stuffed dog I was given the day I was born. I called her Lassie. Her stomach was empty (presumably at some point she must've had little stuffed puppies that were long gone before I could remember). Lassie was my partner in crime (or in my case, glutony). I used to walk into the kitchen with her (it's amazing how much you get attatched to these things you can't use it) in my arms, me all big eyed and innocent looking. Then I'd hide all the candy I could find in her stomach and ran hell for leather to my room to eat the goods.
I had Polly Pockets (the regular size, not the humongous things one sees nowadays) and lost them practically the second after I got them. A few Barbies but no Ken, so the poor things were so damned lonely... in those days lesbian wasn't a word (let alone a concept) a kid like me was very exposed to. Back then there were no Barbie houses or means of transportation (except for a pink carriage that got out when I was about six), so I used my rollerblades as cars and glued some matchboxes together to make the furniture.
There was a pink skipper and a pink bycicle (so I was a girly girl...) that I took ages to learn how to ride (my dad used to grab me by the collar and run alongside me so I wouldn't be afraid... needless to say he never looked more fit in his life).
I had one Nenuco (the regular one with no specials features... the only thing it did was blink its eyes) and a big yellow bear I nowadays miss for the sole reason it was were I used to read; I'd lie down on my bed with my back against it and I'd spend a whole afternoon there with a volume of Clube das Chaves in my hands. Sometimes I'd fall asleep it was so cozy, nestled against the yellow bear. Stuffed animals were a big thing in my bedroom; my uncle was specially gifted with The Claw (was the green aliens in Toy Story call it), and so I had tons of them.
Of all this (and of the many others who will go unmentioned) the one I will always cherish is my Simba. Yes, it was a stuffed little lion from The Lion King. I got him (there goes the it out the window) on my 9th birthday and he was the greatest thing ever. I slept with him, took him everywhere with me, told him all about my life. He was my Woody. It's the one toy from my childhood I never threw out nor do I intend to. It's old now and stays in a box 364 days a year. On Christmas Eve he gets out and keeps me company during Home Alone or The Nutcracker.
And that's my toy story, the childhood buddies that meant so much to me. My safe haven, my playground. I don't know, but the new Toy Story movie just got me all worked up about this...
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Monday, August 02, 2010
First morning home and I'm already bored to death. There are tons of things I could do. Read books. Study (heck, there's something fun!). Watch movies. Watch tv shows. Play sonic or tekken. Read manga. And so on, and on, and on. But I want people. I miss and need people. Despite what is commonly thought, I'm no hermit. Well, no born hermit at least.