Heading to Rio de Janeiro in a few hours... Summer!!! Wait for me!!

Feels like a resigned, calm afternoon, doesn't it?

GOD.

God with the lights out.

Do you believe in the devil?

It's easier to believe in hell than heaven in this world of ours, isn't it? I have never been very sure about neither, although in some part of my brain there must be still traces of my catholic education - after all, 10 years of nuns and priests teaching you about Jesus should leave some evidence....

But even as a child I had too many questions nobody could answer. I mean, if today someone decided to go around claiming a "hotline" with God, who would doubt mental ilness? Just because a bunch of people wrote a book about the guy, after 2 milleniums there are still billions who think he was extra special. Except I never understood why, if we are all "God's children", being the son of God made him different. Is it a lineage thing?

Anyways, no offense to christians; I'm not saying Jesus didn't exist. All I'm saying is that all religions have some gaps that don't make any sense and can't be explained. So faith is really a matter of being used to believe, or choosing to believe, rather than knowing the truth.

Mankind has had a great number of gods over the centuries. It only proves that we need to believe in something, but no one is certain of what that is. Nietzche would say that it's about time to kill this christian God already and come up with a new one... A 20.11 version of God. One you don't need to pray for: you can e-mail.

The other side of it is that we always believed in evil, too. Every culture in every moment of History has had its own demons, hell, evil and etc. Wether it was christian's eternal fire of damnation, tibetan's frozen hell, or even vengeful spirits, the malefic has always been threatening somewhere near. And the power of fear can be stronger than the promise of salvation...

If you read the paper, evil makes a lot more sense, actually.

I'll tell you what I do believe. I think everything we can imagine is real in some dimension of our existence. I believe in the power of the mind; if we can think of it, we can make it happen. So if so many minds have been building these concepts of angels, demons, heaven and hell, I'm pretty sure it all exists somewhere, somehow.

(Yes, that includes Santa Claus).

Almost a haiku

A red umbrella

moves silently through the crowd;

solitude in motion.

Editing and blood

I want to open an editorial. I mean, how hard can it be? Everybody thinks is a writer, nowadays, so the amount of people wanting to publish would be huge.

Besides, all I'd have to do to get readers buying the books would be selling about vampires or similarities. It seems only by saying "bloodsucker" you already have a few thousands of fans. I've read quite a few vampire books myself (yes, shame on me), so I know what I'm talking about: most of them have very bad writing. I could do a lot better if I wrote myself, and that's saying a lot on how bad the writing is. How can I see the holes and mistakes on those texts and their editors can't? Isn't that their job or something? Sometimes I even get mad when I see the s#%&@ that gets to be published and sold. I understand someone has an idea and wants to write a book about it, but I don't understand how it gets edited and is still crap. It actually bothers me. I know it's stupid, but I can't help it.

So, yes, I'm seriously thinking about an editorial of my own. Or maybe, even easier, I'll just write a vampires book. And not in my native language, no: in English, because apparently you don't need much of a vocabulary to sell that. Hell, make it vampires and teenagers, and then I'll have a best seller for sure...

Social being

So, I always think about why it is so hard for me to bond with people.

In a way I don't care, most of the time. It keeps me safe from mediocrity. Everybody knows I'm a little "special", strange, hard to approach. So before people try to get to know me, they just give up. I repel them.

I used to think I'm shy. When I'm in the middle of people I don't know, it's extremely difficult for me to act normal. But then I realized it happens also when it's people I've known for a while, depending on who those people are. I admit sometimes I don't even try; I mean, not everybody is really worth talking to. In those cases I put on my "don't even bother" face and ignore whoever is there. It's not nice, I know... But I don't really feel guilty.

The problem begins when I do want to talk. Or when everybody is being social and saying those things people say to keep a nice and empty conversation, and I simply can't do it. I try, it's just I end up saying stuff that in my head sound normal, but only get these "what the hell is she saying?" looks from everyone. I usually don't understand why it happens and decide to shut up. There are also times when I stay in the room so absent minded I don't catch half of the sentences that are said to me. In my denfense I'll say it's not always voluntary...

Bottomline is:

• I don't like most people (but I'm sure they are capable of being nice even when they dislike each other...);
• whenever I try to mingle I seem even weirder than I already do;
• I find it really hard to pretend being interested in a conversation when I'm not and say the "right things" everybody says so easily.

No, I'm not shy... not really. The more I think about it, the more I understand it: I just lack social skills. Somehow my learning in that matter wasn't complete.

Now what?

Up all night... Baby has a cold.

Little beings shouldn't have to suffer! To see her crying, unable to breath, sleepy and desperate to rest, makes me feel useless. Breaks my heart, literally. And she still has a whole life ahead....

Oh, hell.

Time, time, time...

Ah, 2011.... You're here already. Didn't see you coming...

Actually, time makes no sense to me anymore. Everyday feels like a year, and a year goes by in a second... I'm pretty sure Einstein borrowed the idea for his theory from a mother. Only a woman watching her baby grow by the minute could fully understand it.

And then you realize time is such an abstract concept!

No kidding....

"If you can't stop Windexing everything in sight or you have a sudden desire to rearrange your linen closet again, then you're officially nesting. Nesting is the phenomena where exhausted and very pregnant women suddenly find the energy and the drive to clean like their life depends on it.

Though many women think "nesting" is a wives' tale, it's actually not the stuff of urban legend, and many women get the powerful urge to ready their home for the impending arrival in the final weeks of pregnancy. (Kind of makes you wish nature had the forethought to send that urge to your partner every now and then, doesn't it?)

Now's a good time to make sure your nursery is clean and ready for baby to spit and poop all over it. Spend some of that extra nesting energy stocking up on baby needs like diapers and wipes. You really don't need to be polishing the silver right now.

Even if you're feeling super-energetic, make sure to get enough rest. You'll need your strength for labor and beyond."

http://3dpregnancy.parentsconnect.com/calendar/37-weeks-pregnant.html

Check it out:

Test your youth...

You know you're getting old when:

• The places you used to go and were so much fun are now filled with faces that, for some reason, seem to make you feel way too mature;
• You can't use the students discounts because you jumped into a different age group;
• All your "party" friends are suddenly too busy working and comitting to different things to even think about going out. And they disapprove you when you do with a sentence that includes the word "immature";
• Your wardrobe is full of vintage clothes, but they were really bought as new trend;
• A young stranger in the street calls you madam, lady or such;
• Everybody's talking about Demi's relationship with some Joe guy and you wonder if it's that actress from Ghost and who that Joe is;
• Half your friends or acqaintances are having babies and getting married;
• YOU are having a baby or getting married;
• You start using the expression "in my time" or "in my youth";
• You actually think today's youth is "lost".

If one or more of these items applies to you, let's face it: you're getting old!

Feelings and fears

The hasty wind waggles the trees, singing its sorrow. People lift the collar of their coats and jackets as its wintry arms embraces everything outside.

But in here I can only hear the silence. This belligerent silence sweeps away any signs of life... any thoughts of my own.

Everyday I open my eyes to the same walls. Everyday I wish the strenght to build a better prospective. But nothing ever changes, not really. It gets easier to hurt me each day, easier to pull out tears from my tired eyes. And this silence inside only grows to it...........

I should be happy. I should be exhilarated to know you are a part of me. And there are moments when I really do feel that way. But most of the time... I'm just lonely. Alone in this experience.

I don't recognize myself in the mirrors, I don't own my dreams. I don't belong to me anymore.

You try to remind me you're here, jumping and moving to my heartbeats. How could I forget?

I know you need me. From now on I have to be there for you no matter what; I know that too.

I just hope this wrecked person will suffice those expectations. And that this void, this lack of will, can be supplanted by the love that should've been here in the first place.

Rainy soul

A chuva está parando. O som dos trovões e das gotas melancólicas nas janelas deu lugar ao assobio dos pássaros. O chão ainda está molhado; as ruas vazias testemunham a rápida tormenta que chegou e se foi sem maior aviso. Rápida, muito rápida. Quase como se não houvesse sido.

A luz espia por entre o branco lençol de nuvens, que não têm um amigo vento que as leve a outras cercanias. Talvez hoje veja um arco-íris...

Mas queria que a água continuasse a cair! Que se precipitasse sobre as árvores e calçadas mantendo todos num forçado resguardo. Queria que durasse um pouco mais, só algo mais... Assim minha solidão teria companhia.

Em vez disso o sol vai secando os últimos vestígios do que aconteceu há apenas alguns momentos. Parece dizer que não mereço esse consolo, e inclusive pressinto seu sorriso ao observar meu conformado desalento. Condenando-me a estar só, perdida dentro de mim. Nem o tempo é solidário.

Hoje precisava me expressar no meu próprio idioma... e mesmo este me parece estrangeiro.

Time

Of all the feelings you inspire prevails

this utter desire of clinging

to the emptiness, as it could keep me

from falling...

Instead darkness comes

crawling, calling me out of scopes.

Tied

in your ropes, unable

and unaware, my hope

is never spared from the inevitability

of trying.

But surprinsingly you smile, sheepishly

as a child, and sighing

coldly whisper my trial:

"This is your fate, my dear one,

and no truth could be higher - for the ice

there's always fire.

So don't burn yourself

in the run, because the end,

it will come,

but not when you require."

Sunday

Today is one of those days I feel I should be doing something and nothing fits. I look around me, start a million little things, and it's all so... empty.

What is there with sundays? It's a null day. Void, suffocating. No matter what you do, it feels like time slips through your fingers. Like the world doesn't really wake up today.

Sunday is like being in an elevator with a neighbor you've seen twice - after he greets you and makes a comment about the weather, there's only an awckward feeling of displacement left.

Well, in my case it could be barely anyone in the elevator with me; the feeling would be the same. Most people are like sundays in the week of my life...

Spring equinox

I took a walk outside, today. Spring has arrived at last.

In the past week I could already smell it in the air - the green leaves, the small wild flowers, the warmth. Little butterflies dance under the mild sun, birds sing louder. And people seem...happy. You can almost see the coldness melt from their expressions right in front of your eyes. Slowly, heavy overcoats and scarfs are replaced by colorful and lighter cotton clothes. Children come out to play in the parks, where new and varied shades of green and yellow decorate the scenery.

And yet, the world hasn't changed; not literally. Everything is the same as two weeks ago. Those who had nothing to eat still starve; those who lost a dear one still grieve... But hope arises from everywhere you look. Spring is a promise of a new beggining. Rebirth... Ressurrection.

Those meanings remain in the christian's Easter celebration (although today it has a lot more to do with selling chocolates). To those who still celebrate the Ostara the old celtic ways, this is a time when life returns after a long, cold winter. And even if you don't celebrate anything at all, is hard not noticing how your body welcomes the season change. Animals, plants, insects, people... we all feel it. At some level.

Right now I see outside my window a dozen sparrows fluttering around a tree, singing. There's a couple embracing tenderly in the middle of the park and an ancient woman walking toward the sun, to sit under its warm fingers. The breeze brings me a scent of roast chicken and plants. And the life growing inside of me moves to the sound of a soft melodic song. She knows it too, I think. Spring has arrived at last.

Question

If "love lift us up where we belong", why do we fall in it?

Tiny tale

_ Please don't leave me! - the girl cried with a pleading voice and a raising hand. The wind blew her hair as it pushed a small tear hidding in the corner of her eye to her right cheek.
He took a step toward her and gently wiped the tear from her face. She knew she'd lose him again, and still, it was painful evertytime. She wished he could stay and hold her, console her; but whenever he left there was only emptiness. Why would she rely on him so much? Why would she feel so incomplete without him?

He looked at her once again, but his eyes weren't warm or caring. He was numb. Cold, as he always was when it ended. Like he had never been there. Like he couldn't see her anymore. She felt broken, every little piece falling apart as he turned his back and walked away.

Then that same woman came. Slowly and firmly, a compassionate smile on her pale face. She was always there when he wasn't. She was always watching.

_Why did you come? Isn't it enough suffering to see him leave? Why do you bother on keeping me this miserable company? - the girl asked rageously.

The woman didn't step back. She just sat there on the empty chair, waiting. Looking sad and resigned. And, in her whispering voice, answered:

_I will always be here. No matter how many times you meet him, no matter how many times others are around. I was there when you were born and will be there when you die. Everything else is an illusion. I'm the only one you can count on.

The girl sighed as a sign of agreement. She knew the woman was right. Love was only there for brief moments, but Loneliness... she had her pemanent place. Even when she couldn't be seen, she was there. Always would be.

The girl went to the door, and Loneliness followed.