I want to sit outside the cafe, with a cold beer in my hand, on a warm summer evening. I want to stare the open sky as the sun sets and savour the moment.
I want a conversation between equal curious minds, debating point of views, letting go of the imagination and share dreams and secrets.
I want to feel the warm sand between my toes, fill my lungs with the ocean breeze and stare into the endless horizon. Dive into the refreshing water and feel my mind relax.
I want to travel the world, explore and learn all there is around me. I want to share experiences, experience different cultures, see the beauty in the places of old, imagine how it was century's ago.
I want a dinner table filled with friends, laugh, relax, listen.
I want to be loved once again, feel the soft touch of another human, feel the comfort of a hug, the sweetness of a kiss. I want to lay naked in bed, recovering my breath after a moment of passion.
I want the challenge of living, the sense of accomplishment, I want to fight, scratch and struggle, claw my way to where I want to go.
I want a Sunday afternoon filled with nostalgia, daydreaming about the times gone by and wondering the ones yet to come.
I want to dance, hear the music invading my body, dance like a fool without a care in the world.
I want another cigarette, another bottle of wine, another hangover, another moment of gluttony.
I want to indulge myself in the vices of the world.
I want another good movie, another good book, another story to make me shift, drift and wonder, immerse myself in the plot until it becomes reality.
I want to share the success of others, share their joy, their accomplishments, their dreams, be part of the background of their moment.
I want to be centre of attention, the highlight, the lead actor, the main character, I want to feel the envy and respect of the people around me and then throw it all away.
I want a cosy house on the beach, a flat in the city, a cottage in the woods next to a lake.
I want to build a life with someone, hold their hand when they need, wake up every morning next to her, stare into her eyes, lose myself in her soul.
I want to learn and study, to listen and to be heard.
I want it all.
quinta-feira, 28 de julho de 2016
terça-feira, 26 de julho de 2016
I'm scared...
I'm scared...
Scared of failing, scared of rejection. Scared of losing something I thought I would never find.
It's just so simple, all I need to do is reach out, stretch my arm, show my hand.
But fear keeps me in place...
What is it with you? And why didn't I see it, why didn't I told you.
My head is spinning, can't stop thinking, it's like a whirlwind of emotions bottled up in the remote corners of my soul. In a vessel too full to keep it inside..
Why do you make it so simple, why? What have I been running from?
Damn it...
For the first time in my life I feel useless, not good enough, not strong enough. My gut churns at the though of it, all I want is to be better, to do better, to be all that I can be.
I'm not good enough like this, I want more, I won't stop, I won't sit still, I won't quit I can't...
So calm, so peaceful, so alive, drives me insane how easy I feel around you, and how hard I try to understand you, and still, after all this time. I feel like I will need a lifetime to discover what's behind those eyes.
I don't care about the flaws, I don't care about the issues, in my eyes you are perfect now and were perfect before.
I just hope I'm not too late...
Scared of failing, scared of rejection. Scared of losing something I thought I would never find.
It's just so simple, all I need to do is reach out, stretch my arm, show my hand.
But fear keeps me in place...
What is it with you? And why didn't I see it, why didn't I told you.
My head is spinning, can't stop thinking, it's like a whirlwind of emotions bottled up in the remote corners of my soul. In a vessel too full to keep it inside..
Why do you make it so simple, why? What have I been running from?
Damn it...
For the first time in my life I feel useless, not good enough, not strong enough. My gut churns at the though of it, all I want is to be better, to do better, to be all that I can be.
I'm not good enough like this, I want more, I won't stop, I won't sit still, I won't quit I can't...
So calm, so peaceful, so alive, drives me insane how easy I feel around you, and how hard I try to understand you, and still, after all this time. I feel like I will need a lifetime to discover what's behind those eyes.
I don't care about the flaws, I don't care about the issues, in my eyes you are perfect now and were perfect before.
I just hope I'm not too late...
quinta-feira, 21 de julho de 2016
I am not
I'm not your teacher,
I'm not your ruler.
I'm not here to show you the way,
or become the most cruller.
I won't be the prophet,
or your shining knight,
I won't be the dark and cold
or the warm embrace of a summer night.
I don't know better,
I don't know it all.
I'm not better or special,
I'm nothing at all.
I won't make a difference,
I won't make a stand,
I'm not here to nurture you,
not even to old your hand.
I'm not fantastic,
I'm not great,
I'm not here to love you
or to be the reason behind your hate.
I'm not here to surprise you,
I'm not here to disappoint,
I won't be the answer,
not here to show you the point.
I don't have the power,
I don't have the will,
I'm not here to show you,
I'm disposed of all skill.
I am not what you think,
I am not what you seek.
I'm not the rope for you to hold,
tightly when you're weak.
I am nothing,
just an empty space.
I'm the room in your heart
for you to keep me in place.
I'm not your ruler.
I'm not here to show you the way,
or become the most cruller.
I won't be the prophet,
or your shining knight,
I won't be the dark and cold
or the warm embrace of a summer night.
I don't know better,
I don't know it all.
I'm not better or special,
I'm nothing at all.
I won't make a difference,
I won't make a stand,
I'm not here to nurture you,
not even to old your hand.
I'm not fantastic,
I'm not great,
I'm not here to love you
or to be the reason behind your hate.
I'm not here to surprise you,
I'm not here to disappoint,
I won't be the answer,
not here to show you the point.
I don't have the power,
I don't have the will,
I'm not here to show you,
I'm disposed of all skill.
I am not what you think,
I am not what you seek.
I'm not the rope for you to hold,
tightly when you're weak.
I am nothing,
just an empty space.
I'm the room in your heart
for you to keep me in place.
quinta-feira, 14 de julho de 2016
Why I am a moron.
I can't remember the date, how work went, what I was wearing. I can't remember a single thing up until my bus ride home from work that day.
Working in a nearby town from where I lived at the time, I took a bus route that few people used, so a lot of times during the majority of the trip I was the only passenger.
I know it was around late November, or early December, so by the time I finished work it was already pitch black and the lighting on the road between that town and my city was very dim, so dim I could barely see outside. It was raining.
So, as per usual, there I am, with the bus all to myself, sitting comfortably with my headphones on and watching a movie on my tablet. Around half way trough the journey, this really cute girls walks in to the bus. She was blonde with green eyes, and a few freckles on her cheek wearing a rain jacket, jeans and rubber boots covered in mud.
She shows her bus pass to the driver, looks at me and immediately walks over to where I'm sitting and asks me if i have the time. I take my headphones off and reply. She then proceeds to sit across from me and starts a conversation. Asks me where I'm from, what I do, and where I live. She tells me she is studying civil engineering and that she does some volunteering work in a nearby animal shelter, where she was coming from.
Tells me a bit about her hopes to travel and see the world, how she always enjoys meeting new people and all sort of things to make sure the conversation keeps going.
A few minutes later, her stop comes up, I still had about 30 minutes left before I reached mine.
So she stands up and signals the bus to stop, she looks at me and said it was really nice to meet me and that it she enjoyed our conversation.
To which I awkwardly respond, yes, it was really nice to meet you too, and maybe we will see each other again sometime.
She looks disappointed, stays silent for a moment and then says yeah... who knows. And with a goodbye slowly walks to the front of the bus waiting for her stop.
As the bus stops to let her out, she turns back and waves one last time.
As the bus keeps moving forward to its next stop i proceed to put my headphones back, but a though sweeps trough my mind making me stand still in my sudden realisation...
She was flirting with me.
That moment of silence was a last effort for me to say something else.
Ask her out for a coffee.
For a phone number.
For something.
Something to keep our conversation going past that moment.
As those thoughts all rushed trough my head I felt words forming on my lips
And I silently mumbled..
I am a moron...
It's been sometime since this episode, and I have no idea if we could have become good friends or maybe something else. What I know is that every now and again the image of her still pops in to my mind giving me a huge urge to bang my head against the nearest wall repeatedly.
Working in a nearby town from where I lived at the time, I took a bus route that few people used, so a lot of times during the majority of the trip I was the only passenger.
I know it was around late November, or early December, so by the time I finished work it was already pitch black and the lighting on the road between that town and my city was very dim, so dim I could barely see outside. It was raining.
So, as per usual, there I am, with the bus all to myself, sitting comfortably with my headphones on and watching a movie on my tablet. Around half way trough the journey, this really cute girls walks in to the bus. She was blonde with green eyes, and a few freckles on her cheek wearing a rain jacket, jeans and rubber boots covered in mud.
She shows her bus pass to the driver, looks at me and immediately walks over to where I'm sitting and asks me if i have the time. I take my headphones off and reply. She then proceeds to sit across from me and starts a conversation. Asks me where I'm from, what I do, and where I live. She tells me she is studying civil engineering and that she does some volunteering work in a nearby animal shelter, where she was coming from.
Tells me a bit about her hopes to travel and see the world, how she always enjoys meeting new people and all sort of things to make sure the conversation keeps going.
A few minutes later, her stop comes up, I still had about 30 minutes left before I reached mine.
So she stands up and signals the bus to stop, she looks at me and said it was really nice to meet me and that it she enjoyed our conversation.
To which I awkwardly respond, yes, it was really nice to meet you too, and maybe we will see each other again sometime.
She looks disappointed, stays silent for a moment and then says yeah... who knows. And with a goodbye slowly walks to the front of the bus waiting for her stop.
As the bus stops to let her out, she turns back and waves one last time.
As the bus keeps moving forward to its next stop i proceed to put my headphones back, but a though sweeps trough my mind making me stand still in my sudden realisation...
She was flirting with me.
That moment of silence was a last effort for me to say something else.
Ask her out for a coffee.
For a phone number.
For something.
Something to keep our conversation going past that moment.
As those thoughts all rushed trough my head I felt words forming on my lips
And I silently mumbled..
I am a moron...
It's been sometime since this episode, and I have no idea if we could have become good friends or maybe something else. What I know is that every now and again the image of her still pops in to my mind giving me a huge urge to bang my head against the nearest wall repeatedly.
terça-feira, 12 de julho de 2016
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman, if you're rich or poor. If you're black, white, asian, latino, or from any of the 195 countries in this world.
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, tall or small, slim or fat. It doesn't matter if you speak 5 languages or only one, if you travelled the world or always stayed close to home.
It doesn't matter if you are gay, straight, bisexual, pan-sexual, as-sexual, or if you really like the blades on that attack helicopter.
It doesn't matter if you're muslim, jew, christian, hindu or just want to follow the almighty spaghetti monster around.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter if you like cats, or dogs, birds or bees. If you like books or movies, sports or reality t.v.
We are all the same, roughly 7.4 billion people stuck on a rock floating around at 30 kilometers per second in a solar system that moves at 230 kilometers every second around the centre of our galaxy.
We are just a speck of dust, soaring through space along with countless other specks in this unknown universe.
We are all human, we are all alive, we are all the same.
What does matter.
Is our differences, our uniqueness and what we can learn from one another.
What does matter is the future, where we continuously march guided by our past. What needs to matter is how our past defines us, how we can make it count without it breaking us apart.
Shed the concepts, the delusions of greatness. You're not special, you're not important, you are not entitled no matter what you believe, you don't matter.
We matter.
It doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman, if you're rich or poor. If you're black, white, asian, latino, or from any of the 195 countries in this world.
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, tall or small, slim or fat. It doesn't matter if you speak 5 languages or only one, if you travelled the world or always stayed close to home.
It doesn't matter if you are gay, straight, bisexual, pan-sexual, as-sexual, or if you really like the blades on that attack helicopter.
It doesn't matter if you're muslim, jew, christian, hindu or just want to follow the almighty spaghetti monster around.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter if you like cats, or dogs, birds or bees. If you like books or movies, sports or reality t.v.
We are all the same, roughly 7.4 billion people stuck on a rock floating around at 30 kilometers per second in a solar system that moves at 230 kilometers every second around the centre of our galaxy.
We are just a speck of dust, soaring through space along with countless other specks in this unknown universe.
We are all human, we are all alive, we are all the same.
What does matter.
Is our differences, our uniqueness and what we can learn from one another.
What does matter is the future, where we continuously march guided by our past. What needs to matter is how our past defines us, how we can make it count without it breaking us apart.
Shed the concepts, the delusions of greatness. You're not special, you're not important, you are not entitled no matter what you believe, you don't matter.
We matter.
segunda-feira, 11 de julho de 2016
Too much
I talk too much, and sometimes not at all.
Some things get buried inside, never coming out, sealed shut inside myself.
I don't see the point, even if it's right in front of me.
Some days I barely have the strength to function.
I lost my motivation.
It's gone, with the wind, somewhere out of reach.
I cry too much, and sometimes not nearly enough.
Always locking away the tears, until I'm so full they have no place else too go but out.
Hurt, bruised, filled with scars from the battle.
I care too much, or not barely at all.
Focus so much on helping others I always forget to help myself. I don't know how.
Waiting for a guiding hand that refuses to show.
I scream too much, and not even loud enough.
So much is pilled up that loosening the grip might make me explode.
I ache too much, and always more than it takes...
Some things get buried inside, never coming out, sealed shut inside myself.
I don't see the point, even if it's right in front of me.
Some days I barely have the strength to function.
I lost my motivation.
It's gone, with the wind, somewhere out of reach.
I cry too much, and sometimes not nearly enough.
Always locking away the tears, until I'm so full they have no place else too go but out.
Hurt, bruised, filled with scars from the battle.
I care too much, or not barely at all.
Focus so much on helping others I always forget to help myself. I don't know how.
Waiting for a guiding hand that refuses to show.
I scream too much, and not even loud enough.
So much is pilled up that loosening the grip might make me explode.
I ache too much, and always more than it takes...
sábado, 9 de julho de 2016
Have you ever missed you?
Have you ever missed you? The person you once were, so full of life and happiness.
Did you ever miss what you used to stand for, what you used to represent, the ideals you once hold dear?
At any point did you look at an old photo and though, what happened? Were have I gone to? Where is the person staring back at me in that picture?
And I'm not talking about for ever lost moments like the days of youth now gone by, I'm talking about your spirit, your free will. I'm talking about something that can be remade, rebuilt, despite all the time it may take.
I miss me.
I'm a shell of my former self, no longer driven by the ideals i held so dear, no longer fuelled by the passion in my soul for the new, for the discovery, for the unknown.
What I am now is lost and alone. Buried deep in my fortress of solitude, withering the days away.
I miss me more than I can tell in words.
My eyes keep watering while my fingers keep striking the keyboard in front of me. All this time I have been looking for what I was missing without ever knowing what that was. I searched so far and wide I ended up lost and alone, in a foreign land, in a foreign place.
I tend not to believe in fate, I believe we are the sum of all our choices and consequences, with all the experience, good and bad that comes from it. So instead of saying the universe put me on this path I believe my mind was the one pulling the strings.
I am not the one doing the search, I am the one that is missing, the part of me that aches is not because it was missing something, it simply never was part of the it. Not yet at least.
So the other me, the one that is out there, the one that every now and again came a bit closer to the surface of my being, the one who keeps staring at me from the other side of those moments, he is the one searching. Searching for this part of me that now types away in this page.
It's funny, it's those little moments in life, those when and where you least expect them, that sometimes brings the path to the conclusion of the chapter.
And if my mind felt that for me to ever comprehend what it is like to feel whole, to belong, to hold something dear, I needed to go trough all of this chaos, I understand.
I hold no grudges, not anymore, I hold no misguided conceptions of value or worth. I just want to make the right choices, the right choices to me , to what feels I have to do to return from this barren place.
I miss me, and I am ready to go home.
Did you ever miss what you used to stand for, what you used to represent, the ideals you once hold dear?
At any point did you look at an old photo and though, what happened? Were have I gone to? Where is the person staring back at me in that picture?
And I'm not talking about for ever lost moments like the days of youth now gone by, I'm talking about your spirit, your free will. I'm talking about something that can be remade, rebuilt, despite all the time it may take.
I miss me.
I'm a shell of my former self, no longer driven by the ideals i held so dear, no longer fuelled by the passion in my soul for the new, for the discovery, for the unknown.
What I am now is lost and alone. Buried deep in my fortress of solitude, withering the days away.
I miss me more than I can tell in words.
My eyes keep watering while my fingers keep striking the keyboard in front of me. All this time I have been looking for what I was missing without ever knowing what that was. I searched so far and wide I ended up lost and alone, in a foreign land, in a foreign place.
I tend not to believe in fate, I believe we are the sum of all our choices and consequences, with all the experience, good and bad that comes from it. So instead of saying the universe put me on this path I believe my mind was the one pulling the strings.
I am not the one doing the search, I am the one that is missing, the part of me that aches is not because it was missing something, it simply never was part of the it. Not yet at least.
So the other me, the one that is out there, the one that every now and again came a bit closer to the surface of my being, the one who keeps staring at me from the other side of those moments, he is the one searching. Searching for this part of me that now types away in this page.
It's funny, it's those little moments in life, those when and where you least expect them, that sometimes brings the path to the conclusion of the chapter.
And if my mind felt that for me to ever comprehend what it is like to feel whole, to belong, to hold something dear, I needed to go trough all of this chaos, I understand.
I hold no grudges, not anymore, I hold no misguided conceptions of value or worth. I just want to make the right choices, the right choices to me , to what feels I have to do to return from this barren place.
I miss me, and I am ready to go home.
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