untitled iii

i want to be your muse.

shattered

i met. i liked. i had doubts. i liked more. i had more doubts. i crossed lines. i trusted. i trusted more. i crossed more lines. i liked more. i loved. i said i loved. i heard i was loved. i believed. i believed deeper.

then it hit me.

i was naive. i lost my stomach. i felt sad. i felt betrayed. i felt like i had no right to feel sad or betrayed because, in the end, i was nothing. i cried. i cried more. i had a sleepless night and a grey morning. i made a decision. i had to let go.

friend

i said "i need to cry". and i did and she listened.

when i hung up i felt better only because i had someone to cry with.

conversational skills

good conversation is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after.


we have been kicked out of three different places in less than two weeks: "we are closing now" they say.

i am proud of our conversational skills. they surely make time fly...in the best of ways.

wrinkles

if i had to choose a favourite feature in his face, it would be his eyes, the bluest i have ever seen and surrounded by a path of tiny freckles.

and when he smiled, his wrinkles could tell a million tales, of a million smiles.

he has sad eyes, they say. i think sadness would love to be as happy as it shows up in those eyes.

clumsiness

"...and how you laughed at my complete lack of grace. but i could not recall a more perfect fall, cause when i looked up into your face it didn't hurt at all"

the postal service writes love songs for the motricity challenged, like me.

age

i am the one who some days wants to fit the stereotype but is not old enough for it. and yet, has been thirty since eighteen and hates it.

causes

some causes are worth losing sleep hours for.
when my legs can't hold me and my eyes won't stay open, i see the others working for it. they clap, they cheer and donate time and effort.
then i know i can't stay behind.

on the relativity of time

time flies when running late. as for the ones who are waiting it goes by like tiny little drops of water.

when waiting, you look at the clock so often, that when the sight is taken away from it, you have already forgotten what time it was.

unconditional

he doesn't like me. at all. i waited for him for so long, and when we first met, it was too early for him to make a call, but now he is ready and he has made his choice: he has chosen he does not want me near him. i try to hold him, and i even tried to buy his love with favours.

through his constant rejection, i know my love for him is unconditional. for he is after all, my nephew.

untitled i

i felt safe when i held one of your arms with both of mine.
i learned yesterday i had memorised the structure of your right arm.

narcissistic

i have never told my shrink, but if i one day found a perfect copy of myself but in xy chromosome code, i would be in love.

addicted

i wonder if there is rehab for internet addiction.

patience

a watched pot never boils.
i wonder if my mobile is waiting for me to stop watching it to start ringing.

what i found out about myself today

i like it when people run to heart-stirring music in the movies.

i can think of amélie poulin running to catch nino when he left her house after unsuccesfully knocking.

i can think of young samuel running through the airport to catch joanna before she got in the plane to get to america in love actually. marisa tomei running through italy looking for damon bradley, the man who she was meant to marry.

i can think of renton, in trainspotting, running to "born slippy" and i can think of ethan hawke in great expectations, escaping from his own show at a new york gallery to pursue estella, who never responded to his passionate and obsessive love.

charriots of fire, 300, run, lola, run and forrest gump.

maybe my taste for running scenes relates to my wish of someone running to me the way jamie ran to aurelia on christmas eve to ask her to marry him in his broken portuguese. or my desire to overcome the fear of doing it.