Categoria: Diário (Página 1 de 10)

A Big Clown Game

Once I thought the “neighbours grass” was better than mine, so I jumped into there without thinking and looking for the paradise. But when I met the promised happiness, what a surprise! ‘She’ was laughing dress in red and fire.

I never meant to lose him when I skipped into that hell, I never meant to be more than a friend but suddenly I became a sad woman lost in the beautiful town in front of the royal palace.

It is a big, a big clown game in the end nothing matters we just want to laugh and love.

And everytime I remember his eyes, I feel my heart falling and the heavy storm behind. I remember our smiles and that summer night, perhaps our biggest mistake, perhaps our forever wound.

I can still hear his voice, I can still hear his thoughts sounds, his words telling me “everything’s gonna be all right.”

It is a big, a big clown game in the end nothing matters we just want to laugh and love.

So much that I lost, so much that I learned in the “grass of the neighbor” that, by the way, was not better than mine. The sun does not always make your days better, and rain and grey skies can be missed many times.

I wish it could have been just a bad dream like a bad taste wine but despite the sunny days, he is still bleeding inside me.

I could do everything again yes, I could throw myself once and more without  looking back but everytime I remember his distant eyes that is my worst regret.

It is a big, a big clown game in the end nothing matters we just want to laugh and love.


The best choice

“We need to be full in the present.”

It said my childhood’s best friend in her most difficult time of life: the loss of her father. She, more rational and calm than me, did not suspect how her words invaded my chest and woke me up for ‘my moment’. Across the ocean I cried like a child, I apologized for my absence, and I ‘killed’ all my problems there, at that second.

Nothing is as important as being alive. I wanted to take all the money I have left and go out into the world- more than I have already done. I wanted to go back to homeland (Brazil), the place where I know I will always have a space, and hugh her (my friend) infinitely. I wanted to call the man I’m in love with and declare all my feelings, not afraid of what I’d hear back. Smile the song of the birds and mourn for the lack of eternity on earth but be happy and live wisely.

Maybe I’ll do it all. Maybe not. I did. 25 days ago I landed in Brazil, by surprise to family and friends, in a delicious impulse, by the way. Being full in the present, not expecting the future and not holding me in money. Follow the cry of the heart. In fact, this time, follow the human tears.

The best choice of the last few months, I can assure you. I was never so sure of anything, like getting on the last-minute plane. Lock my room, turn my back, not knowing what was about to come. To land at home without planning, simply brought by the cry of  ‘help, I need somebody’.

I healed my homesickness in the arms of old friends, breathed the comfort of my family and found peace in front of the ocean. The tranquility healed my doubts and my eyes could see again. I danced the best memories at my best friend’s wedding and I cried as I listened: “Glad to have you here! Glad you came!”

Glad I came. The best choice is when we respect our feelings and, without fear, we act for our good. Whatever the consequences, knowing that everything is worth it, everything is experience. There is no mistake or guilt. There is learning.

25 days here at home or away. Or maybe it’s the other way around? I did not meet everyone I wanted, but I had what I needed. The freedom to be where I want when I need it. To have a place to take refuge in the hour of sadness, to know where to return. There’s a little bit of me in every corner of this world, and every corner wants to take me. And I follow, because we have to be full in the very present. Tomorrow will always come one way or another.

A melhor escolha

“Nós precisamos ser plenos no presente”.

Disse-me minha melhor amiga de infância em seu momento de vida mais difícil: a perda de seu pai. Ela, tão mais racional e tranquila do que eu, não desconfiava como suas palavras invadiam meu peito e me acordavam pro meu ‘momento’. Do outro lado do oceano eu chorei feito criança, pedi perdão pela minha ausência e matei todos os meus problemas ali, naquele instante.

Nada mais é tão importante quanto estar vivo. Eu tive vontade  de pegar todo o dinheiro que me resta e sair pelo mundo- mais ainda. Tive vontade de voltar para a Pátria, o lugar onde eu sei que sempre terei um espaço, e abraçá-la (minha amiga) infinitamente. Tive vontade de ligar para o homem por quem sou apaixonada e me declarar, sem medo do que escutaria. Sorrir o canto dos pássaros e lamentar a falta de eternidade na Terra porém, ser feliz e viver com sabedoria.

Talvez eu faça tudo isso. Talvez não. Eu fiz. Há 25 dias eu desembarquei no Brasil, de surpresa para a família e amigos, em um impulso delicioso, diga-se de passagem. Ser plena no presente, não esperar o futuro e nem me prender em dinheiro. Seguir o grito do coração. Na verdade, dessa vez, seguir as lágrimas humanas.

A melhor escolha dos últimos meses, posso garantir. Nunca tive tanta certeza de algo, como entrar no avião de última hora. Trancar meu quarto, virar as costas, sem saber o que estaria por vir. Pousar em casa- Pátria- sem planejamento, simplesmente trazida pelo grito de ‘socorro, eu quero colo’.

Curei minhas saudades nos braços dos amigos antigos, respirei o conforto da minha família e encontrei a paz de frente pro oceano. A tranquilidade curou minhas dúvidas e meus olhos voltaram a enxergar. Dancei as melhores lembranças no casamento do melhor amigo e chorei ao escutar: ” feliz por ter você aqui! Que bom que você veio.”

Que bom que eu vim. A melhor escolha é quando respeitamos nossos sentimentos e, sem medo, agimos a favor do nosso bem. Seja quais forem as consequências, saber que tudo vale, tudo é experiência. Não existe erro ou culpa. Existe aprendizado.

25 dias aqui em casa ou fora dela. Ou talvez seja o contrário. Eu não encontrei todas as pessoas que eu gostaria, mas tive o que eu precisava. A liberdade de estar onde eu quero quando eu precisar. Ter um lugar para se refugiar na hora da tristeza, saber pra onde voltar. Tem um pouco de mim em cada canto desse mundo, e cada canto quer me levar. E eu sigo, porque nós temos é que ser plenos no presente mesmo. O amanhã sempre virá de um jeito ou de outro.


Todo va a ir bien ( Everything is gonna be all right)

“No tengas miedo…Todo va a ir bien!”

I “clung” to your words and, smiling, I threw myself off another cliff. Without seeing and knowing that what pushed me was myself. I created a thousand things to convince myself that moving city was the best option. Good actress that I am, I strongly believed in my own creations and jumped. Again. The third time.

Moving home, city is an internal mutilation and I have been mutilating myself for two years. Third language and I think my brain at some point, will ‘turn of’. It is too early to talk about joys and sorrows. At first sight everything is beautiful and seems eternal. Like love. The daily living togheter is what shows whether there is life there or not. This relationship, depending on it, can kill any feeling and different ways of love.

Madrid did so much that it “won” me. It played unfairly against London when it put its light and Sun on. So latin am I. I surrendered me easily and, not wanting to ruin my feelings for London, I preferred to leave. I mutilated myself. It seemed more sensible. I confess I didn’t know I would feel such a big impact.

I closed my eyes and my suitcases. I got what I needed and I let it go. I closed my heart and I got deaf to screams and advice. I did not want to see the tears and I did not let them run. I pretended tranquility when inwardly there was a whirl of emotion. I wished a thousand hugs and more, I wished that someone had made the decision for me because taking on certain responsibilities weigh twice my suitcases.

“But the girl-woman-likes change!”

Ah! I really like that. The gypsy’s side applauds and comes when everything turns gray and looks the same. The taste for the challenge, for everything new again, yet lazy. Feel in check and forced to reinvent.
What this woman -girl-does not know, yet, is to deal with the size of this wing she possesses. Clean up the mess of the room and soul without pain, no questions asked. Organize what is reality and illusion. Simply being and living. To accept that, all this, deep down, is what counts in her life. At this moment.

Todo va a ir bien…

Your words … Those that were so exact when I needed them, are my little daily mantra of good … And when it seems regretful, I will know that its only miss it!

As long as I want … Only while I want.

Hola Madrid… May it be light and have Peace.

Todo va a ir bien

“No tengas miedo…Todo va a ir bien!”

Me agarrei em suas palavras e, sorrindo, me atirei de mais um precipício. Sem enxergar e sabendo que o que me empurrava era eu mesma. Criei mil coisas para me convencer de que mudar, era a melhor opção. Boa atriz que sou, acreditei fortemente em minhas próprias criações e saltei. Outra vez. A terceira vez.

Mudar é uma mutilação interna e eu tenho me mutilado há dois anos. Terceiro idioma e penso que meu cérebro em algum momento vai desligar. Ainda é muito cedo para falar sobre alegrias e tristezas. Á primeira vista tudo é belo e parece eterno. Como o amor. A convivência diária é que mostra se ali há vida ou não. Essa tal de convivência, dependendo, pode matar qualquer sentimento e forma de amar.

Madrid tanto fez que me ganhou. Jogou baixo com Londres quando colocou sua luz e seu calor em questão. Latina eu. Rendi-me facilmente e, não querendo estragar meus sentimentos por Londres, preferi me retirar. Me mutilar. Pareceu mais sensato. Confesso não imaginava que sentiria tamanho impacto.

Fechei os olhos e as malas. Guardei o que coube e desapeguei. Calei o coração e fiquei surda diante de gritos e conselhos. Não quis ver as lágrimas e nem permiti que elas escorressem. Fingi tranquilidade quando internamente estava um turbilhão de emoção. Eu desejei mil abraços e mais ainda, desejei que alguém tivesse tomado a decisão por mim. Porque assumir certas responsabilidades pesam o dobro das minhas malas.

“Mas a menina-mulher- gosta de mudança!”

Ah! Isso eu gosto mesmo. O lado cigano aplaude e surge quando tudo fica cinza e igual. O gosto pelo desafio, pelo tudo novo de novo, ainda que preguiçoso. Sentir-se em xeque e obrigada a se reinventar. O que essa mulher-menina- não sabe, ainda, é lidar com o tamanho dessa asa que ela possui. Arrumar a bagunça do quarto e da alma sem dor, sem perguntas. Organizar o que é realidade e ilusão. Simplesmente ser e viver. Aceitar que, tudo isso, no fundo, é o que vale em sua vida. Nesse momento.

Porque todo va a ir bien…

Suas palavras…Elas que foram tão exatas quando eu precisei, são meu pequeno mantra diário do bem… E quando parecer arrependimento eu saberei que é só saudades!

Enquanto eu quiser…Só enquanto eu quiser.

Hola Madrid…Que seja leve e que tenha Paz.

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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.


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