Me: What's your name?
Bully: No name.
Me: You don't have a name?
Bully: No.
Me:Fine, out!
Bully: ?!
Me: Out!
(He leaves the classroom)
Me: So, who else doesn't have a name?
So the other night I was hanging out with a few friends of mine and one of them was trying his moves on me. I kept pushing him away and at some point he just said: "Don't be ashamed of your body, you are beautiful". I answered straight away: "Yes, I know". Now, let me ask you, what in the world is this pick up line supposed to mean?! Guys, if you don't know what to say, say nothing!
After 50km trekking in the jungle, amazing
waterfalls, a crazy mid-age "seal" Thai guide, a few remote villages,
rock climbing, a poisonous spider and tons of
samsong over my head, there are only two things I know: I would do it
again and I'm not afraid to die, I'm afraid of not feeling alive.
I wish I could go back in time and start this year all over again. I wish I could be so small that nobody could see me. I wish I could fly so no one could step on me. I wish I could smile and mean it all the time. I wish my feet were smaller and nobody could hear me passing by. I wish I could sleep for weeks and no nightmares cross my mind. I wish I could cry the pain away. I wish I would still be that girl in the picture, with the world at my feet. I wish. I wish I never met him.
In the guest house hearing one german and one
french taking the piss off their girlfriends back home. "they make their
own money and they treat us like puppies" they say. After 3 months in
Asia I wonder, are we western women all that bad?!
72 days have passed since I arrived in Thailand and I don't really know what to write about... I can definetly say that it has been mind blowing and that I feel as happy as I could ever possibly be. Amazing people have crossed my path and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
I still don't know what the future will bring, where will I be and who I'll take with me... but I do know that for the first time of my life the uncertainty is not eating me alive and I'm enjoying every second of it.
Quem me conhece, sabe bem que não sou de me manifestar em questões políticas, económicas ou seja o que fôr que tenha mais números e percentagens que o clock explosion do Dali. Mas há coisas que me irritam e sobre as quais tenho que escrever com a maior das imbecilidades que a democracia me reserva por direito.
Ora toda a vida em Portugal descontei 21,5% em Irs, 20% em Iva e 29,6% em segurança social e sempre levei como resposta pelos não afectados: "pois é, é chato".
Nunca recebi um subsídio de desemprego ou qualquer tipo de dinheiro vindo do Estado. Sempre levei como resposta: "pois é e tal és freelancer...". Como se freelancer fosse um bicho exótico ou freak social que tivesse escolhido essa opção sui generis como modo de vida?!
Toda a vida vi pessoas como eu a lutarem por essa mudança e os não afectados no seu cantinho a murmurarem "pois, pois, façam lá o que têm a fazer"
Ora isto tudo sempre me deu várias certezas. Uma delas é que a maior parte dos seres humanos apenas olha para o seu umbigo. Não é novidade nenhuma, eu sei. Mas depois percebi algo mais grave, é que 99,9% do ser humano só LUTA pelo seu umbigo.
Hoje o Passos Coelho comunicou ao país que os funcionários públicos passam a descontar 18%. E eu penso: "ahhh 18%" como se de um paraíso fiscal se tratasse. Direito a baixa médica, subsídio de desemprego, férias... um universo onírico que para mim nunca passou de uma ambição... Mas pronto, isto agora não interessa nada, interessa sim que depois desse comunicado tomei café com uns amigos que se lamentaram continuamente revoltadíssimos durante três longas horas. É de facto complicado e eu sim, sei, o quanto elas doem e tenho toda a solidariedade do mundo para com qualquer trabalhador honesto que vê o seu ordenado e direitos a serem reduzidos. E escutei, e ouvi, e sorri e nunca, mas nunca por um segundo, me reduzi a tão escassas e socialmente aceitáveis palavras tais como: "pois é, é chato". Porque chato é esperar numa fila de supermercado, chato é o trânsito parado na 25 de Abril e chato é o café ser servido frio. Agora isto? Isto não é chato, isto é fodido!
E isto lembra-me ainda o quão eternamente bem se aplica o poema do Martin Niemöller:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me.
Não sei se por preguiça, mera inconsequência ou simples desafio, mas esta é a última de muitas memórias que escrevo com todas as certezas absolutas de que vou saber exactamente do que se trata.
Pois não sei. Sei que a letra de cima não é minha, que a debaixo é, que em dada altura terei carregado a camara e que não sei que código é aquele que está ali no meio. Ídeias?
Ontem uma senhora de idade perguntou-me: De onde é? Eu respondi: Do Porto. Ela perguntou: E para onde vai a seguir? Eu não consegui responder. É que só longos minutos depois é que percebi que o a seguir era ali, naquele momento.
It's on days like this that I believe that our path has been written and somethings happen for a reason. As my plans had changed for the evening, I later headed to the other side of the beach. That's when I saw this young seagull with a broken wing. She couldn't fly, actually she couldn't move at all. She was at the water's edge where the Ocean meets the Land. As soon as I saw her I tried my best to rescue her. I have to say that Portugal is not the best country for these issues since the awareness is not as big as I believe it should be. Anyway, I ended up with a good friend of mine, Ana, that helped me out, and a holy place that said yes to rescue her: Parque Biológico. Thank you life for introducing me to such wonderful human beings and such a wonderful place. At the end of the day that's all that matters. To everyone else who was on the beach and didn't give a damn and to the fisherman that was hurting her with a stick I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry because you are just not able to feel the satisfaction and the emotional reward I'm feeling right now.
Life is only beautiful for the ones able to see the beauty in it.
To the ones who care, please see the picture below. It has the contacts of the rescue center and the number of "Kahuna". If you would like to help her or other animals, we will all appreciate. I would also like to keep in mind that I got no answer from all the other rescue emergency numbers I've called.
There are many things I don't like in Porto. Before I packed and left I thought this was some kind of micro-state-of-mind that you could only find it here. That was the reason why tourists found it so exquisite and the ones not full-filled with it wanted to leave so badly. Once I settled in other countries for a while, I realized those "things" don't start and end in Porto. Not even close! They are everywhere, they are human issues. And well, as soon as you realize it, as soon as you know you are basically fucked. Better you start fancying yourself, animals, nature... getting pleasure out of awkwardness... otherwise you don't have a get out "exit". But if on one hand the major things are the same everywhere, on the other there is one that isn't. It's the one I like to refer as the I-don't-want-to-miss-a-thing syndrome. Yes, that is Porto in all it's splendor! We don't have the power of choice, we just go and that's it. Porto, the city where every little event is a must go and every little place is the place you'd rather be. And this is when you find yourself among the same faces everyday and you feel trapped. We have, somehow, developed an ID complex in which if you are not there or you are missed, or you are missing, or ,at it's worst, you don't exist. I believe a lot of people never felt in their skin the feeling of anonymity, the feeling of not belonging, the feeling of for a moment not having a background, a past, a future... no expectations and none to be expected. At least they never felt it long enough. Long enough to enjoy it. I actually believe that only once you've tried the "social identity emptiness" and the need to stand for yourself in an unknown environment, you are able to use the power of choice at it's best. Maybe only then we don't flock like sheep to see Coldplay live, stop taking other's people misfortunes as personal and stop believing we love the same music since we were three. Well, at least for football we stand... follow that!
There are two kinds of people I'll never get.
The ones that sit next to me on an empty bus and the ones that want to share with me two square meters on an empty beach.
I find it amazing that not even extra pounds can keep weirdos away.
There's nothing in life that can so easily piss me off as the "unwelcome" feeling.
Obviously, in our everyday life, we have to face it. It starts in the bank queue or in the supermarket when you grab the last loaf of bread. But this is not what I'm talking about. I'm referring to those situations that involves someone you care about. And then we ask ourselves: when did this person's-unconditional-honesty end to give place to those bullshit-little-lies? And when I think of this I remember something else, there are no "unconditional somethings". The only unconditional thing is true love, and that is fucking hard to get.
It's funny how that "place where you'd rather be" unwelcomes you.
And then you have to choose between the fast sense of pleasure or respect. This time I was wise enough to choose respect.
Now I'm happy. See, when you respect yourself the pleasure takes a long time to come, but when it does, it lasts.
Monday, May 21, 2012
"Portuguese parking style or the absolute height oflaziness"
For those who know me well, you are aware that I don't have a mother. I never did. And you are also aware that it's ok. Well, guess what, it's not! It never was and it never will be. I've always been petrified that people would feel sorry for me so I pretended all the time it was fine. And I almost believed it. Well... at least I tried. And I tried so hard!
During the day was easy, you just do what you gotta do leaving no room for drama. But at night, lying down on my pillow, all that emptiness was stabbing my soul like a knife. I believe that during my sleep in my dreams the idea of you was putting together the pieces so I could wake up in the morning and pretend again everything was just fine. I don't know if there was a single day that the idea of you didn't cross my mind. It still does. I always thought I would heal the emptiness and that lack of love would be replaced somehow. Now that i'm 30 there's something I know. There's no such thing as enough love. There are different kinds of love and they are irreplaceable. Or you have it or you don't. And sometimes, only sometimes, there's just nothing you can do to get it. This is my Truth now and I'll stand for it.
When I was a child I missed your face, your hugs, your kisses and your tender voice telling me everything will be just fine.
When I was a teenager I missed your advice, your explanations, your understanding and your tender voice telling me everything will be just fine.
When I was in college I missed your pride. Oh, how I miss your pride... How I wanted you to see me conquering the world, afraid of nothing, believing in everything. And I missed finding my face in your face, my smile in your smile, and in those lost moments your voice telling me everything will be just fine.
Today I miss your face, your hugs, your kisses, your advice, your pride, your unconditional love in your smile towards me. And now, surprinsingly, a new fear comes along. What If i'll be with someone. Will I get married? Who will give me advice? Who will be there for me no matter what? And what if I have children? Who will teach me how to take care of them? Who will teach me how to be a mum? Who will help me raise them? And now I find myself like 25 years ago: afraid. The challenge changed, the fear is the same, And I don't want to be again on my own. I'm tired. And you know what else I miss? Your tender voice telling me everything will be just fine.
Every single day I miss the idea of you, and it hurts, and it's not ok. I'm not saying I'm not happy. I am. Please don't misunderstand me, my life is amazing, full of mistakes but amazing! And no, I'm not blaming you for my mistakes, how could I?! But there's one mistake that has something to do with you and it's the fact that i've never been completely true with anyone. Not with my father, not with my friends, not with the better halves that came along. That fear of someone feeling sorry for me kills me and burns in my veins. That is something I now know I must get over. I always thought that when someone worth it would come along I would be true. And guess what? I've had people worthy of it around me my entire life. The problem is inside, It was all the time, But it's good that now I know it, as I also know it's never too late. You know something? Sometimes, on sunny days, when I'm filled with happiness, I look at myself in the mirror and I smile, and somewhere, between my freckles and my eyes I have a picture of you, and I pretend you are there, with your tender voice, whispering in my ear that everything is just fine.
