Autor: Amanda (Página 1 de 9)


Talvez o Sol tenha demorado demais e eu fiquei branca por muito tempo. Talvez por ser primavera- quase verão- e a temperatura ser a mesma do Brasil onde é inverno nesse momento. Talvez pelo cinza, pela correria ou a falta de tempo. Talvez por tudo isso ou simplesmente nada disso. Pouco importa na hora da decisão e depois de tomada.

Talvez nada Londres. Meu amor por você continua mas, algo me levou de você. Passou. Nosso ciclo, este ciclo. Nossos dias, nossas brigas, nossos sorrisos. Passaram. Minhas descobertas, meu amadurecimento e o sonho…O sonho amargou, secou, cansou junto com o corpo. Sem saber muito o que fazer, resolvi seguir o conselho mais clássico de todos: escute seu coração! Seja lá o que isso signifique- porque honestamente, racionalmente dizendo, meu órgão que pulsa não fala é nada. Nem o seu.

Mas que bobagem e que chatice ser racional nessa vida. Bom mesmo é ser emotiva! Que bom! Viva! Escuto o coração que fala, que pulsa, que sente, que vibra e é cigano! O meu? Demais! Escutá-lo talvez- mais uma vez- possa ser um erro. Mas, não havendo erros e acertos em tais circunstâncias então: um salve para a nova escolha que chegou e já passou, assim que foi definida.

Outro dia, no restaurante onde trabalho, um colega me disse: “Você é artista e esse lugar não te pertence, não é para você.” Na hora pensei: eu sei, é apenas uma passagem. Não me saiu da cabeça essa frase, esse sentimento. Há quase dois anos que saí de casa em busca de um sonho que era tão certeiro, de repente tornou-se outra coisa. Tantas outras coisas e o sonho, sempre lembrado claro, ficou ali no canto. Faltava tempo.

Tem quase três meses que cheguei de férias e, já me parece 5 anos…De novo. Eu adoro sua intensidade, cidade maluca, mas está pesada demais.

Exausta é a palavra que me define atualmente. E quando chegamos a esse nível precisamos sair. Passar pela porta. Pela fronteira. Mais uma vez. Para renovar o amor, pra dar mais cor e ficar morena. Não quero verão pela metade e nem dores no corpo. Não quero ausência das minhas palavras escritas e nem distância dos meus livros. Quero mais vida. Mais ar. Mais segundos sentidos.

Conselho do tal coração, aquele órgão que pulsa. Cigano. Enjoou e quer mais. Tudo novo de novo.

E se tudo no final das contas passa, inclusive nós, o que temos a perder diante de oportunidades ainda que cegas? Planejar para que, se talvez tudo esteja traçado mesmo. Ou não. Mas eu me respeito e o tal do coração. Porque nessa nova passagem eu quero estar bem presente.

My Dear Sun

My dear sun
I’m waiting for you
My dear sun
When do you come to dance for me?

I felt the distance that twisted all the emotions, just don’t know anymore if what I dreamed is what has gone or has stayed.
Which dreams that one day brought me to you my darling, I must say everything is like this so distant from me.

Spring has arrived and you haven’t changed still so cold and grey.
I listen to the shoes walking through the sidewalks.
Your flowers will bloom and it will bring me back soon to the place one day my heart chose to be.

London, I want you so.

My dear sun
I’m waiting for you.
My dear sun
To love I will wait just for you.

Couting the days

I do not want to talk about the changes and the ‘sameness’ of the past two months ‘at home’.
For more than a month without writing, I have tried to understand what I became before my thoughts and dreams. I’ve been looking for news to get the words out and apart from cliches. It does not work like that.

I won’t deny that I planned these holidays more than prolonged. I, who hate planning, came to the Brazilian summer full of expectations. I have forgotten, for many moments, that expectation can spoil and offend. And until I could understand what was going on, inside and out, a month had passed.
Completely inside out what I imagined it would be, I juggled my emotions.

Since accept that it is okay to wake up at 11am on the morning for many days – after all, I’m on vacation – until realize that people are not avaiable as we would like, even if they said so. And why would they be? I am the person on vacation and doing nothing, enjoying the sun. The others are leading their lives. They have schedules, jobs, children, routines.

But not an effort on Saturdays?


I got more rain than sun. I forgot about this detail too. That January may be rainy but, damn it! Just because is my summer vacation this January had to be the rainiest of the last 68 years? And London, in turn, despite the cold, had a certain sun. It had light! All wrong!

The hassle of staying at home or on the street, alone and in the rain, is that the mind works too hard. And I wanted her vacation too because when it starts working on the Aquarian spirit … God, I wanted to go back much sooner than I thought. I do not know if I miss London or the woman I am there. If it’s my friends or the opportunities. Or if it is simply missing and that is it.

In one of those screams of “I want to go back now!” I heard from a friend on the other side that: “you’ll come back here anyway so, enjoy what you have there, the sun will come back!” He was right!

The sun came back and I saw in the smile of my niece, every time she sees me, the greatest joy of being here. In the tail of my dogs wagging what is free love. In my huge bed that I love and in my blue wall where are all my dreams and secrets. The corners of the world where I still want to go and the familiar places that call me daily.

My family, which was the greatest expectation, despite the emotional disagreements, continues my family!

In fact, nothing has changed. I’ve changed. I waited, I wished, I frustrated, I loved. I have lived. What had to be lived here, the way it had to be and that matured me a little bit more. That extended the mind a little bit more and opened my true values.

I needed to conform myself that a few people I will see less and my beloved paradise, Rio de Janeiro, will be for a next time. But the Atlantic I met again, as promised! Because it will open up for me on my return.

This return will happen in 20 days. And I must confess, Im couting the days.

15 months later…

It took me longer than I would like to put into words the feeling of 15 months later.

It will be difficult to speak of the different because the same is still here.

We still discuss the same things, in the same intonations and the same speeches. We use the same arguments for solutions and the same complaints. Now we believe more in God and in the spiritual, but also, we are tired of the same old ‘sameness’. Contradictory? No, just the same days of our lives. But dont worry, we still love each other.

The city is sadder- still noisy and crazy- but at least this year won a Christmas tree in the main park. You know, we citizens deserve a little hope, and these lights make us feel good. I’m glad the Mayor had thought about it this year. However, of course, none of this erases the current moment of our country. We are all – and I mean EVERYONE – in the same boat and the same crisis. My Brazil is down. I hope I can make him smile a little.

December continues to be the month that swallows us between Christmas and New Year. Emotions jump out of you, like clothes falling out of the suitcase. They seem to try to escape. And they jump like that, all at once, in despair. And when you realize you say what you should not, listen to what you did not want to, and smile at the end. Yeah, few things time really do not change it.

I have not yet met all the friends I would like, although I have declared myself to each one. I still have not eaten everything I wanted but my bed hugged me like if I was still a child. My room, thanks God, remains the best place in the world. And my dogs? Ah! Dear Ones! These do make me feel at home every day! Dogs never forget you.

The heat has not changed, either! Too hot, but I do not complain, because the Queen’s land is too cold and here the Latin skin recognizes itself a little bit more. Welcome home, Amanda! 40 C!

The streets are the same, but the security’s hair is different. He is more modern, I like it! I recognized good ways and saw new restaurants around. The chats of some friends are very mature: they talk about marriage and school for their children. Fear! But there are still those with whom we drink wine and laugh at our delicious lack of maturity when we remember a few months back.

I love my diversity.

I must confess I expected changes. I was hoping for some evolution, perhaps. But the truth is that the biggest change is me. So much remains the same or indifferent because Im looking from another side. Not in the bad sense. But I grew up. Like a giant. I know this place will always be mine. Parent’s house is untouchable, including the bedroom. But internally there is anything that does not fit.

I got off those conversations. I got off the streets. I got off the couch. I do not know anything else about what’s on TV or about the new songs. It’s my house but, at the same time, its just one more place in Earth. And that’s fine. It is light to know that this refuge will always be here for me. Family feelings. Comfort. Love.

15 months really got me out of the place. And really made me a new person.
I hope they understand if I fail to meet certain expectations and joys. If, on a case, I smile less and prefer to isolate myself. But it is that meet my expectations is already too difficult. And staying at home, doing nothing, sometimes, is all what I want and need.

I will be back on time

I will remember all that lemonades.
How did I mess up the table and you just smiled.
I will remember your sweet voice singing and telling me “dont worry everything is gonna be all right.”

Do you want to see a woman become a girl just wait her to fall in love. Your 23 turned my 30 around and colored my sky when I needed it the most.
I know you have a girl and I have the world. This freedom makes me starving for love. I know my place so I let my silence speaks. You have the eyes that changes my mind, please, believe.

Two differents worlds becomes only one when the same song beats over and over again. Hours flying through our days and saying good bye to you, again, couldn’t be worst.
What it mean to be it mean to be. Its better like this, live the life and let it be. No tears, no regrets. Beautiful memories, good times, I will miss you.

I dont want you away from me but this is more than I can wish. But if someday you say that you are in, I promise, I will be back on time.

Yes, I will be back on time.


The butterflies

It’s hard to deal with all those butterflies in the stomach. It is strange to live this mixture of joy and fear. Some moments I think I’m ready and safe, others just one look and one request and I change everything again.

After long 15 months- which easily were like 5 intense years- I can say that I exceeded expectations that were not in the ‘luggage’. Some will come with me, for they have become good lessons worthy of sharing with the world. Others, I threw it around the corner. Gone with the wind. Recycled. It made me lighter.

On the last day of work in the restaurant- 10 hours shift- I did not feel pain or tiredness. I missed it already. I missed the repeated songs we never got tired of and the little snacks we used to have hidden in the kitchen. The moments Of cigarette leaks – who smokes- and smiles disguising a problem. Our tricks to escape the heavy and the confidence between each other to be less tiring. And how this routine changed my life.

Observing, I remembered what slipped through my hands and what I simply gave up. How it hurt to deal with consequences of own choices and, at the same time, how satisfying it was. My passion for autumn became even greater, but winter showed me a side that I did not need to know. The excess cold saddens and ages. I need light. I need colors.

I found myself fat, before the mirror, and then thinner. Now I’ve grown fat again. But I’ve always seen a woman. Something I could not see before. I criticized myself and admired myself. I faced my frailties. The human frailties we all have. As we need attention, we are devoid of voices, of presence, of care. This kind of independence, “leave me alone ‘cause I know how to live alone”, is not that simple, no matter how old you are. We know how, of course we do. But it is not always nice. In my case, I discovered that is almost never. Although I did very well on the mission.

In this emptiness of emotion and search for comfort, I surrendered myself. When I surrendered, I fell in love. I’m not sure what I got back, but it made me feel good. Still do. I made friends for a lifetime. I  felt too old and too young. Courageous and the owner of the world. Tracing new paths, but willing to stay. Not to leave. Just a look. Just a request.

Hard to leave now. Hard to break and “lose”. Afraid to let change one more time. Joy mixed with sadness. The bags. Everything that fits and what will remain. Physical and emotional. Something always stays, to make us come back. And even if that’s true, crossing the ocean is not light. It seems we are crossing Narnia and its enchanted world. More or less, by the way. I will leave the cold of the Queen’s land for my São Paulo. Another mayor. Summer. No car. Not that bad. Married friends, kids, a few who have also changed places. A country trying to recover from politics and disasters. It’s mine. But I think I’ve forgotten the streets. And the feeling of belonging to ‘the space’ I think I lost. Or it’s stored in some corner of the chest.

I grew up. Oh, I did! I learned how to save money and go straight through the shop windows. Buying only the necessary (almost nothing, I realized that we can live with much less). I traveled! Because that’s the best money spent! I had lap and hugs from friends and I missed my parents, a need of them that is almost childish. And I’m already 30 (yes, I ignore the other ‘one’)! And when you survived such a feeling…Yes, you grow!

When I least expected it, I adapted. Today, I call home what once seemed a punishment. And it’s not just London, it’s the inside. I’m at home, because I’m fine with myself. The more European I feel, the more Latin I realize that I am. This blood and heat from the veins will not change. There is no citizenship that changes who you are and where you come from. The magic is you know how to adapt, see the good and allow yourself to live intensely. Being an immigrant is not easy, dealing with differences and having to face cultural barriers even less. But life demands change, it is more than our yard. My need was more and I respected the inner request. It passed quickly. Look at Christmas and I, here again. But now I know who I am and where I am. Glad we changed. Worth it.

In this second I cannot wait to get in Brazil. But the butterflies do not leave me unharmed. I do not know if I want to pack, maybe just board. Let life happen. As it will be. Just one thought as I write: 7 days. One week. And everything will be new again. For a month, two, until I come back and here, start over. But then, it will be another season.

London, you look beautiful and I love when you look at me like that.

Exibindo foto.JPG

So far, so close

Do not look at me like that and do not make that face ‘half-corner look’. Your smile makes me want to change everything. I was so excited to tell my news and share certain things with whom we trust and care is simply priceless.

Through confused feelings, something came to balance. The dreamed ‘yes’, after countless ‘no’. I started writing articles for an online magazine, Blasting News UK, as a freelancer. I took another step. I got the first British ‘Yes’!

“As long as it’s in English, you can write from whatever you are and about whatever you want.”

So said the person in charge. I will be paid according to the amount of views. But who is worried about money, when will the name be printed online in an international magazine?

Happiness. Even more. Excitement. And to share this with the world did well to the heart, that sought a way to dribble what will come in less than a month.

The closer to the day of the trip, the more I want to leave. If I could, I would go tomorrow. Running away, hidden, like rats in culverts, leaving everything behind. All this so I do not have to face what I already know.

But at the same time, the further away London gets from me, the more I want to stay. Put off everything and come back. Or even not going. I’m still here and Im already missing an inexplicable lack. I did not even get there yet and Im already feeling what it will be when I come back.

Carpe Diem, Amanda!

Live the moment. Breath.

London and ‘her’ way in disguise, shy of making me love ‘her’.

On my day off, so many things I could do, I stay, usually, around 3h in the restaurant where I work during the whole week. Sitting. Watching. Creating. Feeling. I should hate this place but no. I stop there, as a rule, to get closer to those who makes me feel good. To leave a little more of me and take a lot more of them.

Despite all the madness I’m very grateful.

Yes, I should walk out the back doors and pretend that none of this is happening. But on the contrary, I ask for more days around, in full. Intense Aquarian that suffers when cutting the evil by the root. And she likes it all at once, like ripping the band aid from the wound. Do not take too long! Come on and do it! Do not scream! Face it! Then…Well, then we keep living.

One month.

So close but with many things yet to happen. So far, to the point that I cannot wait any longer. Do not give too much time to an Aquarian, he changes everything without blinking. It turns the new inside out again.

Cold town. I do not want to leave this relationship. I will take all this with me and leave a page of the book here because it will be the continuation of the story.

Did I mention that our laughter changes everything?


Happy One Year Anniversary, London!

Happy One Year Anniversary of the longest and intense relationship that I have had on these 31 years of life. ‘Happy’ all the tears, the laughter, moments of renunciation and return.
‘Happy’ every grey day, silent day and discredited; ‘Happy’ every hugh day, angels in our ways and crooked love, bitter, marked.

Happy one year, London! We survived together and separate. Survived the clashes, the errors, the countless ‘No’ and stubbornness. We loved and we hated each other; We held hands and we parted.
You let me go then, very wise, because you were sure that I would return. You dropped my hand without fear, saved my world and my secrets.

You did not promise more heat and flowers, as this is not possible. But made me understand your way of life and the time. The time of the sky, the time of Big Ben.

A year is a little when it comes to you. A year is too much when it comes to visceral relationships. I do not spare heart and emotion so, I bet my body open and I followed. You drived me crazy and still does it- with your traffic and noise (not tired of repeating this). But you got me with these ‘doors’ open of the world, the mixed stories, multi languages and laughter.

One year of you and with you. And I thought I would run in a month. Today I do not run anymore. Today Im the one who say: I can even go, but I’ll be back. I should not be so honesty because when we declare too much, lovers tends to be cruel. But, my ideology does not allow me to lie. And share love is an obligation and satisfaction.

I do not know, anymore, what I learned and what I have lost. What you took from me and what you added. I know what I am today, and sometimes, it seems the same as yesterday. People will say. And your buildings already know.

If my future relationships got half of we got, it will be a profit. Thank you for not letting me go.



Feliz Aniversário de Um Ano, Londres!

Feliz Aniversário de um ano do relacionamento mais longo e intenso que já tive nesses meus 31 anos de vida. ‘Feliz’ todas as lágrimas, as gargalhadas, os momentos de desistência e os de retorno.
‘Feliz’ cada dia cinza, calado, desacreditado; ‘Feliz’ cada dia de abraço, de anjos em nossos caminhos e de amor torto, amargo, marcado.

Feliz um ano, Londres. Nós sobrevivemos juntas e separadas. Sobrevivemos aos desencontros, aos erros, aos ‘Nãos’ e ás teimosias. Nos amamos, nos odiamos, demos as mãos e nos separamos.
Você deixou-me ir pois, muito sábia, tinha certeza de que eu voltaria. Soltou minha mão sem medo, guardou meu mundo e os meus segredos.

Não prometeu mais calor e flores, pois isso não é possível. Mas fez-me compreender esse tempo. O tempo do céu, o tempo do Big Ben.

Um ano é pouco, quando se trata de você. Um ano é muito quando se fala em relacionamentos viscerais. Eu, que não poupo coração e emoção, apostei meu corpo aberto e segui.
Você enlouqueceu-me e, ainda enlouquece, com seu transito e barulho ( não canso de repetir isso). Mas ganha-me nas portas abertas, nas histórias misturadas, multi idiomas e risadas.

Um ano de você, com você. E eu que pensei que correria em um mês. Hoje não corro mais. Hoje sou eu que digo: Posso até ir, mas eu volto. Não deveria ser tão sincera assim, quando nos declaramos demais, o amante tende a ser cruel. Mas minha ideologia não permite mentir. E compartilhar amor é uma obrigação e uma satisfação.

Já não sei mais o que aprendi e o que perdi. O que você levou de mim e o que acrescentou. Sei o que sou hoje e, ás vezes, parece que a mesma de ontem. As pessoas dirão. E seus prédios já sabem.

Se meus relacionamentos futuros forem metade da nossa relação, será um lucro. Obrigada por não deixar-me fugir.



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