Talvez Paris Talvez um dia possamos chegar ate Paris. Andar de maos dadas. Fazer passeios e beijar-nos ao ar livre. Revisitar a vida as nossas vidas enquanto Fazer amor nos faz mais humanos nos aproxima da beleza que ja nao esta talvez um dia Paris nos aceite em seu romance e em suas ruas Talvez uma dia em Paris sejamos UM
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Showing posts from January, 2013
Sem drama
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Vieste ontem a noite a buscar os teus pertences. Vieste calmo. Bem vestido. Aprumado. Eu ligeiramente doente abri a porta sem vontade de ver-te.Como e possivel mudar tanto. Antes eras meu amor. Hoje apenas uma parte do meu passado. Amargo. Tuas perguntas irritantes. Eu so queria que fosses embora. Embora para sempre. Uma das minhas amigas me disse: para de enfatizar o que poderia ter sido. Enfatiza o que nunca poderia ter sido. Na verdade fomos muitas lagrimas. Muito sofrimento. Muita perda. Fechei a porta convicta. Apagar-te da minha vida. Como se nunca. Adeus docura. Adeus limbo. Voltei a ser eu mesma. Liberta das dores que nos impusemos. Liberta de um amor impossivel. Meu corpo nao sente tua falta. Ja nao estavamos um no outro. Ja nao eramos um. Nosso convivio foi superficial. Feito de migalhas. Sera que ainda posso descrever-te? O que foste? E minha impressao de ti? Essa imagem que projetavas. Tuas insegurancas tao silenciosas, como uma tormenta prestes a acontecer. Tempo. Tempo ...
Primeira Vez
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Nao lembro quando foi a ultima vez. Nem o ultimo adeus. Choravamos talvez. Em vao. Hoje, nao choramos mais. Ja aprendemos estar um no outro assim de longe. Arrumo a casa, ja que o corpo nao tem arrumacao. Nao se pode remendar um coracao. E o inverno que sempre nos chega depois de. Comecamos sempre tao bem nos dois. Tanta alegria. Emocao. E ai aos poucos vamos nos desgastando. Encontrando um no outro dissabores. Te resumo a nossa historia. Nosso amor poderia ter sido. E foi isso que foi. A ilusao de um amor cheio de possibilidades.
Past - It is what it is what it is
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Friday, February 5, 2010 The Sea and the Chaos of Being Cold That day the sea was fresh and beautiful like it hadn't been in a long while. You seemed worried that I was cold and had not enough clothes to face that cold ocean breeze. The sun came out. We walked and held hands. We sat on the rocks that we can only see up north. You kissed me and protected me, or so I felt. We laughed and took pictures because days like those have to be kept somewhere. We were both hungry and happy. I was wearing my Indian flats and you were not ok with that. I remember you saying that "those are not beach shoes". Sometimes, my love, we don't have the right shoes, but we have to keep on walking. We have no choice. So we just keep on walking, praying that what we have is going to be enough, it's going to be good, it's going to make us, somehow, happy. On Wednesday night, my apartment was so silent I could hear the walls talking. I was in bed waiting to fall asleep ...
Blooming Tea
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One thing that marked 2012, for me, was the ability to take nice photos constantly, since I got an iPhone. My trip to Argentina and Brazil were documented primarily with the iPhone. Then I took pictures of almost anything when I got back. Roses, plants, the sky, clouds, beach, animals, food, shoes, toes, outfits. Dresses. Us. The two animals we are. Fighting animals. Stubborn animals. Resentful animals. I am now tempted to buy a new camera. I have postponed that for I am not very good at budgeting. I have too many interests. Too many ambitions. I like nice, beautiful things. I like beauty above many things. That's why I fell in love with a blooming tea.
The Beauty of Trees
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Photo by Dan Garver The beauty of Trees that stand alone My grandmother was a tree that stood alone. My mom was a tree that stood alone. I am no different. Against the blue and sometimes grey Florida's sky. Don't recall how I got here. It must have been that I was sleeping. Sleeping beauty. But there was no prince. But the tree grows towards the sky.