Responsibility

If you have a kid that tiny person becomes your responsibility. If you screw up - whatever the situation - you deal with the consequences. In life as you go along you gain responsibilities for your actions and because that's part of growing up - getting your own set of responsibilities.

And it sickens me that such a chunk of my responsibilities are not really my own. They get passed on because there's no one else. It's not my kid that I spend days looking after. It wasn't a husband or a boss that I kept running errands for when I was supposed to be focusing on this final phase.

And what's more infuriating is that I don't get to deal with my own responsibilities - I'm expected to delay or ignore them - to tend to other people's business. People, might I add, that although they had a responsibility towards me decided to do nothing. On so many occasions I was supposed to be protected, loved and heard but instead they stood watching. Motionless. And I was just a child. And I grew up and I never asked for anything from any of them. So why, pray tell, should I put myself on the line for them? For people who are dead and never once stood my by side? Because of blood for blood's sake?

How do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?*

This is probably a good idea-bad idea post. Meaning that it makes total sense today and tomorrow I'll probably regret having pressed publish.

I am very proud of the choices I've made this past year. It has taken a lot of sacrifice and a lot of hard work to get to this point. But right now that means zero. I'm hungry for the stage. For dancing and singing and having classes together with old mates. I miss it and I feel there's this massive gap in my heart that cannot be otherwise fulfilled.

It's incredible to see friends accomplish so much on stage. To conquer an entire musical. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that part of me squirms with envy.

I'm not that much of a child to say O alas! That door has closed! O poor me! I know that somewhere along the (hopefully very long) road that is my life new opportunities will present themselves. But right now it pains me so very much that I can't have that. And there's nothing for me to do but carry on and hope for the best.

*Rent

I can so relate to this...

It's just one of those days

Born to save a life

A lot of times I feel like a child that was born to save a sibling from leukaemia or something. I was born with a purpose - to safe a life. Actually, more than one. And I was never asked. It was automatically expected of me, as if it was my whole raison d'être. It's a heavy burden and it's keeping me from treading my own path. And people don't see it; I'm here, so - obviously - I must be part of the solution and bam! there goes my life. So I'm going to leave this place. Make them perceive reality without me in it. Make them come up with different solutions. And I'll journey far, far away. Enough so I can save another life - my own.

A journey with no landscape

I feel like my life is funneling up. I'm keeping the bare minimum while striving to meet my goals. In a sense I have put part of me on hold. No more dance classes, no trips to the movies, no going out with friends, no personal readings. I can't afford to spend time with people. The report and the internship are too important. Then I have the... "family obligations". I feel drained, stretched to the limit and it seems each week I have to let go of something else. And I know the final stretch is supposed to be like this but right now I'm on the verge of tears over the smallest thing. And I don't like to be that person.

Say hello

It's not going to replace the lost toys,

but at least it'll keep me company and help me remember them

It's a busy existence

Goodbye old friends

Me and L did some serious cleaning last week. The kind where only about a third of your stuff survives the cuts. There was a lot of junk in there. Stuff I had grown out of love of, piles of old papers and things that no longer had a purpose in my life. And in the middle of all that were my childhood toys. I've had a very rocky childhood and most of my time I spent alone with my toys. They were my anchor, my sounding board, my playmates, my buddies. Of course they weren't all in one box; those were just the ones I wanted to keep for sentimental reasons. In the middle of that small memory bundle were the stuffed dog I slept with for years and the doll my mother gave me on my last birthday before she died.

That box that I specifically said "to keep!" was mistakenly thrown away. It might seem like the smallest thing (especially if you consider all that's been going on in my life in the past few months), but it was enough to get me sobbing for over an hour. I've been under open fire on so many fronts and I've been doing all the right things, despite how hard and hurtful it all is. And this was probably the last straw. So I collapsed. I want my old toys back and sadly that's not going to happen. Ever. The wolf says to think of it as a new beginning. Like shedding my skin and starting afresh. To think of all the new memories we'll build and all the new stuff we'll gather through the years. I get his point, I really do. But today I kinda have to mourn my loss. Even if it wasn't human to start with.

Love as the perfect currency

Things where I grew up in are taken care of based on duty as currency. You do it because you have to, because family is family and no matter what the other person has said or done in the past it's your duty to help. Of course this sounds very sane and christian-like. But in practical terms it's like being a Corleone. And there are no verbal or physical displays of affection. You are to assume that people love you (after all you're family) and that's that. But enough about this side of things.

For the past eight months I have gotten closer to people that operate in quite a different manner. People that walk through life goofing around with a broad smile on their faces. People that say they love each other without it being called for. Just because. People that celebrate life on good times and get themselves to the other side of a tunnel on bad times. Together and without interracting like a pack of wolves (with a strong hierarchy going from the strongest alpha to the bullied omega). A family where people are cherished and cared for. Always. I have seen it happen on quite a number of occasions. Love as the perfect currency. When people are loved more love grows from that. And things are done on a basis of love and with an open heart. Because people truly want to help. It's not a matter whether or not it is our duty to help, but rather that when things are done this way you never get to a point where duty is called for. You do it because you want to. And don't you think that has a lot more value?

Celebrating life today

I heart mondays

Or at least this one. So far it's been one great start into what I hope will be a very nice (and incredibly hard working) week. Happy monday to all!

On silliness

Growing up requires some silliness. The ability to do silly things just because and learn to laugh at yourself. To make animal noises, jump on puddles or do funny looking dances when you're happy. I never got to do that without being immediately told off. Cut it out, people around me would say, Stop being silly and behave like a normal person. If you ask me, it does wonders to chop your self-esteem to pieces. So I stopped. I became as mainstream as I could. And now I feel extremely thankful to the wolf. Because he accepts me for the person I am outside and the silly girl that I keep inside. And every day, even though he doesn't always say it (he doesn't need to), I feel it's alright to let her out. And it feels great, learning how to truly be myself.

The joys of having neighbours

I always thought it was nice to have young people living in my building. But then they grew up and formed a band. Not so thrilled any more...

"Tired" doesn't even begin to cover it...

This year's purchases

new books = happy meerkat

The book fair reconciliation

For several years after I started my major at Uni the book fair here in Lisbon held next to no fascination to me. It meant going up and down looking at prices that were outrageously high even with the fair discount. My profound dislike for Portuguese publishers probably didn't help. Here the books are enormous, heavy and very expensive. So in my mind all that was worth buying were dictionaries and books originaly written in Portuguese (because buying a translation, however cheaper, would be stupid!)

Last night I went there for the second time this year and, also for the second time this year, had a great time. I still feel the same way about the publishers, but am now expanding my purchase territory to translations from roman languages. And the fact of the matter is if I buy books in Portuguese, I might as well buy them where I can get a discount and a stroll with friends.