Writing about life

Almost there or considerations about the near future

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I’ve been thinking a lot about my plans. I’almost finishing my college, I’ve studied a lot and there’s still so much I want to do. I’ve been doing lists of what I want for now, what I’ve done and what I have to do before I actually finish college.
I lived here for 5 years but I still do not Know the city, I went to museums, exhibitions, parties, bars but there is still so much to see. I wanted to learn Italian and French and finally decided to enroll, Italian no yet, I started the Spanish course too, it is not my favorite language but learning is accurate.
I wanted a love ah… This is harder. So I started looking and found it, but I do no think it has yet. I lived here with the following thought, there is no love in São Paulo, and I think this is true, in parts, for a long time I thought it was the rush of the other, but I realized that deep down they do not want to, because it is easier to live without having to give to the other.
So I gave up, I decided they’re going to have to find me now. I did not give up on love, no that, but I’II leave it a while, inside me.

Poems · Writing about life

Experiences (And if…)

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And if I had not been born

How would my parents have lived?

If their death had not I cried

If André had fallen in love with me

And at 18 she had married

What children would I have had?

If I lived I would have chosen another state.

If another course had taken

How would you be a doctor or a veterinarian?

If I did not lose that bus

Because I arrived late

If I had ever entered that room

If I had not known you

Or made friends dear

Had I been happy?

If a heart had not been broken

In one thousand, one for each side.

How I would have become strong

And how the past learned?

If …

For each if presented

There are several paths to be followed and a modified self

I’m made of experiences.

 

Poems

Feelings

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Public Domain

Time is too short.

When did love become a mistake?

It takes courage to assume that you love.

But what is the use of secret love?

People get lonely.

But pride is greater than reaching out.

 I saw him cry softly,

While sleeping clinging to the pillow.

Someone hurt your heart.

And because he was mistreated, he preferred solitude,

He did not know true love, only illusion.

I could help you

If only he were sincere

And tell me a secret.

What are you afraid of?

In yours place I’ve been.

But it is not worth living in this slide.

The best lesson for life is to be as happy as possible.

Stories · Writing about life

See you (in the future)

I was sitting here killing time on the internet. I put this band (bastille) to play because that’s what I’ve heard most lately. I did not know all their songs but I put them to roll the entire album. Then this song appeared (laughter lines), I liked the rhythm of the melody, so I paid attention to the lyrics and came what I wanted to say to Him.

He’s a twenty-something years I’ve met. The first thing I saw in him was intelligence and I loved it. Yes, I loved it. I’m not a person who falls in love with looks but for the essence and he had a Q that attracted my attention. He was intelligent, hardworking and wanted to do good. He had political convictions that should be studied and worked out, but it was fun to discuss with him about it. He had a passion for what he was doing and that was charming. I let it take me.

I remember when he asked me which course was mine, I answered and he said he found it interesting but very difficult. At the same moment I thought, I will convince you to take this course. It did not happen, of course, but it did give us good chats. From there we did not stop anymore, I always encouraging the conversation, because it really intrigued me.

We finished our course and continued to talk, now less technical things, we talked about a lot. I could learn about him, about what he liked, his plans were like that for a long time. We left a few times, nothing much happened, just enjoyed the day.

It was going well, or so I thought. It all began to fall apart as he began to give expectations, things he could not keep. I believed him, wanted to pay to see, wanted to be and make him happy.

The beginning of the end was on a Friday night with a lot of talk, lots of plans for the next weekend defects, we were on the phone, he said everything I wanted, he tried to explain why we would not give a right, no convincing answer, every word That I heard my heart felt like it would explode.

I did not understand, I stayed on the floor, how can something change so much so suddenly, but ok, we followed the script we did the tour I was waiting for everything to change at the end of the day and back to what it was before. Did not happen. All that happened was several catastrophic events that could not be improved.

In one last frank conversation, which no one knows how it began, it was the end, the charm ended. All that I saw in good was superimposed by all the words that came to me like sharp points. I cried for myself, for him, for the situation, for the second time in just over a year. It was the weeping of relief, which took away all the pains that had been accumulated, which were suffocated by the good things I wanted for us.

These good things are gone, too.

This pain lasted two days, were intense days. I was fine, I moved on, after all life does not wait. But I could never say anything but ok. Nothing better came to my mind when my heart was torn apart.

So when I heard this song I remembered all this and words came to me to say: See you in the future when we are older and full of stories to tell. See you in the future when you’re laughing. Maybe we’ll have coffee and share our adventures. If it does not … Be happy.

Stories · Writing about life

She wanted the world and went after

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Photo: Public Domain.

She was a restless girl with big dreams, waking up in the middle of the night and imagining herself to be great, being free. The small inland town where she lived with her siblings was no longer enough for her plans, she needed more.

Her friends rejoiced when after Sunday Mass they could wander around the square and engage in lively discussions with the boys and sometimes have the balls. Like the good girls in town, they were allowed to stay until one o’clock in the morning, or the parents would come and pick them up, they could not be “spoken.”

She was never interested in taking a walk in the square after Mass, not that she did not like the square or the city, she just wanted more. The boys of the city courted her, tried to please her, but no one ever really got her, her heart belonged elsewhere.

As the years went by, she began to be choked with all this, with the sameness of years that could not improve. Then she fidgeted again, packed her bag, put her guitar on her back, and left. They tried to stop her, but she did not let go, she had to go after her dreams.

Today she does not regret this choice, in fact, she thinks it was the best thing she did. She has not yet arrived where she wants to, but the important thing is to take the first step, and she gave and continues giving, sometimes short, sometimes long strides, in search of what makes her heart vibrate.