The way I see it

How does one choose a career?

2010-07-13T19:23:00.000-07:00

Same old story: you go to college, take some general education classes but in the end you don't know what you want to do as a career. What is more important: to do something you like but you already know that your chances of a nice salary will be always scanty or to do something you KINDA like but you know that your chances of financial success are quite high (despite the economy)?

Here's my "friend"'s dilemma: she is good at writing (or THINK she is); she has an analytical mind and likes paperwork as well. She is curious and loves almost everything, from science and technology to arts, film, music and fiction writing. She is not as good at math, but she is quite good at biology and chemistry (and she likes both). She likes research and the academic world. She is super organized and very good with her deadlines. She also likes sports and nutrition and fitness. She is upbeat and hyperactive. She loves politics but hates getting anxious and nervous. She doesn't like arguing. She is good at preparing arguments when she has the time to analyze the situation. She is good at details and picking up on loopholes. You can give your paperwork for her to review. She has good grammar but bad mathematical logic. She doesn't like blood (she can't be a doctor).

Here's her "background": she has worked in a newspaper. She liked it. She learned about how scanty the pay is for journalists. She learned that journalism is a career you undertake out of love only, because the hours are long, vacations are short, and the pay is even shorter, when you are lucky enough to have a job (because editorials are shrinking).

Everybody tells her she would make a good lawyer. But she doesn't know if she will love Law. Or if she will even like it. She thinks she might make a good lawyer, too. She thinks she might like Law. But she is not sure. She has been to college 4 times now and never graduated because she never knows what she wants to do. For most of her life, she wanted to be a filmmaker and an actress/writer. But she realized she doesn't have any talent to act, and she is not driven enough to be a filmmaker. But she believes she is a good writer and has some good ideas and writes with her heart. But she can't finish anything. She just can't finish any of her fiction works. She doesn't want to do it wrong again.

So she is thinking about Law. Her biggest concern is to be happy with her profession and be able to have a comfortable life. She doesn't want to struggle every month to make ends meet, for the rest of her life. But she doesn't want to sacrifice happiness for money. She wants to be happy.

How is my friend going to solve her life puzzle???

Thanks for any ideas or suggestions (please don't send criticism - she is already super hyper critical of herself...).

PS: Telling her to play the lottery doesn't count. She has already tried this one...lol

Afro Samurai - Review of the movie, the series and the game website (video of the game in the end)

2009-04-18T00:20:00.000-07:00

Samurai...Afro??? Yeap. In Japan, in a time that nobody knows, a kid sees his father be beheaded right in front of his eyes. His father's head rolls to his toes, amidst his tears and the image of the assassin. And the headband #1.

It begins.

Afro Samurai, AKA simply "Afro", follows a path of hate, pain and death in search for the headband #2, which will allow him to kill the assassin of this father, under the samurai code he bounds by.

The Art style is definitely something very different from the regular "anime" style; it is more like watching a comic book in action. It's like Tarantino meets Frank Miller. With Samuel L. Jackson's voice (he does "Afro" and "Ninja Ninja").

At first I was amazed by the Art; the editing and the cuts got me hooked right away. But the story left me with a feeling that there was "something missing". This "something missing" was fullfiled today, when I watched the continuation, "Afro Samurai - Resurrection".

But first things first. Afro Samurai is NOT cute. He is not the nicest guy in town either. He "has blood in his eyes": whoever messes with him ends up in half. But, despite all the killings he's done in the name of revenge, he still can keep the value of friendship, although in a twisted way.

The soundtrack, by RZA, keeps your heart pumping. The fast editing makes your mind feel like in a rush, while your eyes are charmed with violent, crude, raw art.

I keep coming back to the Art: I'm impressed. It looks simple most of the time; sometimes even almost like a sketch. Yet powerful, strong. The message gets through.

The characters seem motivated simply by revenge and hate, but I guess this is part of that universe. What bothered me is that many people would die not to give away the headband#2, although some of these people were giving Afro a "lecture" of how unimportant the headband was and how stupid it was to kill and die for it. And still, they weren't willing to give it out and walk away!!! So, terrible contraction between the dialogue and the action. It would be ok if they weren't "lecturing" about how worth it was to die for the headband.

PS: Oh, and THERE ARE sex scenes both in the series and in the movie!!! Not exactly a "kids cartoon"....

GAME WEBSITE
IT BEGINS... AGAIN

Stylish. Just as the movie.

The website is visually very attractive and it keeps faithful to the feeling of the movie. It's very functional and the navigation menus are really creative. Although it's an awesome website from the visual point of view, it seems like they are still working on the content, that doesn't have all the characters in the movie/series, and the description of "Ninja Ninja" is not very accurate.

There is a feature I hadn't seen in a website yet: as you move your mouse around the screen, the cursor takes a different form and a "floating" navigation bar follows on top of your cursor, indicating another section of the website, that you can visit if you dare to click the left-button of your mouse. I liked that. Different.

What's cool about it? I allows you to create your own remix, a music video of the game/movie: you can choose scenes, add your own music or use the soundtrack, make the cuts, extend or shorten shots.... super cool. You can be the Michel Gondry of the Afro Samurai world! Cheesy, I know. But still, this feature is awesome. (Keep posted: I'm working on my remix version of Afro Samurai!!!)

Game Art... well, the preview of the game seems ok. They don't show much, so you can't actually tell how the game will "feel like" when you play it. But the Art is not as cool as it is in the movie/series. But that would be expected, since the game is based on the series. The game is offered for the XBox 360, XBox Live (I have this one!) and PS3.

Gamespot.com seemed to like it, although they say the pace could be better, falling into monotony sometimes. The combat seems really cool and, among other things, you can slow down time. Here's what Gamespot says:" (...) the resulting mix of old-fashioned button mashing and focus-powered slaughter is satisfying and fun. "

For a video of the game,

For the website, go to http://www.bloodisbeautiful.com/index2.html

My First short movie

2008-11-10T21:48:00.001-08:00

East and West

2008-10-29T23:22:00.000-07:00

They met in high school: he, crazy, long haired, talkative, different. She, beautiful, quiet, shy, sensitive. He, from the East, and her, from the West.

They saw each other for the first time. He was immediately interested in her. She, not so much. But he was persistent. He would send her flowers, love notes, messages through friends. One day she said yes. And they started seeing each other.

He was communicative, joyful and loved talking to people. She was introspective and thoughtful. He was always surrounded by other girls, who found him very interesting, with his peculiar appearance, long spiked hair and bell bottom pants. She was beautiful with her micro-skirts and long, silky dark hair, surrounded by her girlfriends or alone, with her daisies and her cats, dreaming.

He worked very hard to pay for his studies, since very early in age. Her father paid for her studies until she finished college. He graduated in Engineering and she graduated in Arts.

They loved going for long rides, into the countryside, without destination, without time to return. Then the first baby girl arrived. And, with her, the life of moving.

But times started to get hard. His ghosts from the past started pressuring further and further and, in his fragile composition, he started to become susceptible.

Then the baby boy came. More moving.

She started to become more and more alone. He started to have a bright career, but his ghosts wouldn't leave him alone. Soon enough, his ghosts became her ghosts, too.

And the ghosts starting consuming him, eating him alive. She would try it all to bring him back, but he was dying each day more and more. And their love began to break apart, among tears, blood and hurt.

One day he decided to go back to the East, to find the soul he had so long lost. She accepted, having now two little bags to care for, all by herself. Although very small in complexion, she was enormous in strength, and both of them she carried on her back.

He didn't find his soul. And the ghosts finally finished eating him up. And she was alone.

But love is bigger than pain and hurt and it survives, through forgiveness.

Years passed by. She knew she had to forgive him so he could go. But she never had the chance to say good-bye.

So one day he came back.
They were young again. He was at the top of a green hill, looking at her and smiling. In his eyes, she could feel love. In her heart, she felt peace. She forgave him. And, smiling, he waved good-bye to her for the last time.

Lucy's first kiss

2008-10-29T22:35:00.000-07:00

Every day, on the way home back from school,
looking up at the starry sky,
Lucy would walk thinking about the kiss
He would, one day, give her.

In the bloom of her 15 years
with her long dark hair swinging from side to side on her back
and ten books in her thin arms
she could taste the kiss she had never had.

In her memories, sunny days
when he would walk up the hill
and her eyes would follow him
since he disappeared
among the old trees.

Days in which she would follow him
From the distance
Observing each step
Each maneirism
Singing for loving ears
that would not hear her.

Lucy saw him the first time
crossing the patio
on her very last day at that school

Her mouth opened in shock
And her many books fell to her feet
As he passed,
Slowly,
Sensually,
As if knowing to be admired.

In the tender of her 14 years
she felt the bitter sweet cut
and the bells toll
and she got dizzy
and she ran away

In the sweetness of her 15 years
she had already the taste of passion
in her virgin lips

Singing love songs alone
Making promises to the stars
Dreaming of a sensation
Unknown to her

In those clear blue eyes
A smart sparkle of youth
In the sensual smile
a dash of mischief

And Lucy,
Scared and in love
with shaking legs
and sweaty hands
Finally came close to him

And when his cold clear blue eyes
met her warm innocent dark brown eyes
she felt like falling
and words fell from her mouth
scattering around

And as he walked away
Poor Lucy's heart
was a mistake

And every day
She would follow him
Crying
Singing
Dreaming

Til one day
he finally looked at Lucy
with her long dark hair
and dreamy shiny dark brown eyes

This time
She didn't walk home alone
with books and stars

This time
In her hand
she held his

This time
She didn't follow him
through the trees
til he disappeared

This time
before she even took notice
her books were falling from her arms
As he held her in his.

And, under the big trees
Warmth flooded her soul
Like a river carrying her body away
As her heart slowly melted away...

Stick People

2008-10-12T17:34:00.000-07:00

Stick woman stands in the pink room. In her stick face, a smile that is not stick at all. And pumping through her stick body, a heart, that is not stick at all.

Stick woman sits, waiting. In her stick body without veins, her bloody flows fast in excitement. What is she waiting for?

She is waiting for stick man.

Stick man enters the room. For a moment, there is a smile on his face that is not stick at all. And a heart pumping out of his stick body, that is not stick at all either.

Stick woman stands up and her not-stick heart pumps so fast it seems it's gonna jump out of her stick body. She walks towards stick man, with her smile and her heart.

But all of a sudden, the pink room starts to change. The pink walls start to bleed and soon the pink room is all red. Each step she takes towards stick man, the walls change the color, getting darker and darker.

She feels her heart hurting and she worries about stick man. And she tries to run to him. And as she runs, his smile starts to change into wood. It woodens and woodens and woodens. And so does his heart.

When she finally gets to him, the walls bleed black. And it's all dark. And stick man's smile is hard wood. And so is his heart.

Stick woman cries and takes her heart (that is still a heart) in her hands and gives it to stick man.

And stick man, with his wooden smile, takes her heart in his wooden hands and eats it.

True Colors

2008-08-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful

___________________________________________________________________
I found this writing another day. It belongs to a piece I wrote on Jan. 29th, 2007, called "Beautiful".

"Like my beautiful blue butterfly, that spreads light and bright and colors wherever she goes, some people have this same capacity. Whatever they touch, it turns into something bright and beautiful. Maybe it's just a reflection of their beautiful souls. I like calling them "Colors" in my mind. (...)."

The Immigrant Nightmare

2008-04-28T18:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I'll be able to keep on going. I feel trapped, in a cage, no where to turn around. I know it sounds dramatic, but that is how I feel.
I know I am an immigrant. IMMIGRANT. That means things are gonna be difficult and I don't know for how long.
I feel like I was running a marathon, a long and difficult one, in Death Valley in the summer. I don't know if I can make to the end. And it makes it even harder when your manager doesn't help you.
I am talking about my job. How much I hate it and how much I have to suck it in and shut up. I don't shut up completely: I tell my husband and family how much I hate it. But that is all.

I dread to go to work and everyday, EVERY DAY, I come back home angry, frustrated and depressed. I hate my job. I hate having to suck it up. I just came back from work now. You can tell.

Even when the day is not awful, every time I have to talk to my manager about something that is how it makes me feel: like shit. That is how it makes me feel. Yes, I AM angry and HIGHLY FRUSTRATED.

I gotta keep going. I gotta. You know those last miles, the most difficult ones, when you can barely breathe and don't feel your legs ok anymore and you think you'll have a heart attack if you take one more step? That is how I feel about going to my work. I look at the clock all the time. I dread for the moment of balancing my box and going away.

I feel like I'm drowing. I gotta learn to swim.

I must go back to school and I must learn something that will give me the chance to work in something more pleasant than what I do.

Every day. One more. Just one more day. Just one more hour. Break. A break in the nightmare, a short elevator ride out of hell. For 10 minutes, I search in my brain for a way to escape. Unsuccessfully, I take the ride down to hell and wait for my other break, lunch time. Then I have 1 whole hour to live and breathe and try to find a way out. Then back to hell. Even when I think it's gone, when I go home, it still lingers in me, the knowledge that I will have to be there tomorrow again. And one more day. And another day. And another. Feels like eternity.

Now I know what my Beta fish felt like when he died in pooey water (because I forgot to change the water for a week) : suffocated by shit and uncapable of running away. Poor Beta. I feel you now, buddy.

Movie of the day: The New Barbarians

2008-03-19T22:09:00.000-07:00

Movie of today's Bad Movie Night was "The New Barbarians". It was really barbaric that movie... but at least it was one of the funniest so far. Unfortunately I haven't seen "For your Height" yet.

While watching the movie, I was trying to identify the reasons they failed in making a fairly decent movie. In the end, I had already given up: too many problems.

Let's start with the costume design: Jesus Christ, what was that??? I wonder who designed their clothes - they were absurdly awful and very, very cheesy. That made our audience vibrate.
The bad guys' outfit was white with exaggerated shoulder pads. When the camera moved closer to the costume, it was possible to see that the black stripes on their clothes were not more than black tape (yeah, black scotch tape!). Not to mention some characters' plastic clothes and the main female character's minimalist suit (lower part was an old style bikini and top was nothing but a cape).
The overall design was just of very bad taste. One can see that the production was on a budget and they used whatever cheap material they could get their hands on.

Production Design: as bad as Costume Design. Visible budget issues. They seemed not to care about realism at all. The cars used looked like golf carts; in some scenes where they perforated another car you could see it was only a metal sheet. You could even see foil paper in many of the sets (being used to MAKE the set). I understand that when in a budget you gotta use cheap materials, but why not to try to make them a little more realistic? This is also the director of photography's fault: he should've chosen a better angle to film it and make sure he wouldn't get a close up that would show what shouldn't be realized: that what was supposed to be hard metal was just foil paper.

Direction of Photography and Lighting: OMG! Seems like our cinematographer here didn't read even the first chapter of "Painting with Light", because if he did, he would know that his type of lighting was very wrong and made no sense. No beauty, no definition of time (you can't situate well what time of the day it was) and no sense of use of the lighting equipment (lights in the background were too strong for the scene - objects, props and people were not being well lit either and the high illumination in the back sometimes would even bother the eyes). I admit I know nothing about it, but I believe that he probably used a "Brute" all the time (well, I don't know if that would be current name for this type of light or if they are still being used) in the background light. There is one scene I can mention now: there is this small hill and a bush on top of it. It is daylight, but the light is so bright in the background it seems like you're looking straight into a strong lamp, a doctor's lamp or something alike.
Some of the shots were very bad in terms of angles, too. Can't remember a specific example right now.

Screenplay: this might be the worst of all. Or maybe the second worst, being the direction the worst of all.
The dialogues were weak; the story didn't make much sense. There are no explanations of what happened, where they are, who are those people, anything. The plot is very confusing.

Special Effects: what were those guns???? Lasers? What about the explosions????? What the f... was that????

Sound: saying that the sound of the movie was bad because the movie is old is not fair to the good old movies. The sound in this movie is bad because it was bad done. This is purely a bad, bad job. Microfone? I don't know. I don't understand about sound yet, but it clearly was a problem in the direction of sound. Voices were too low, it was difficult to know what they were talking about, kind of "clouded", if it's possible to know what I mean.

But, in the end, we all had a good time and a lot of fun laughing at this unfortunate production!

When Lucy went partying - Part III

2008-02-28T18:14:00.000-08:00

Lucy met a new friend in the green lands. It was a weird boy, who looked like a boy but at the same time looked like a girl. Lucy wasn't sure if he was a boy or a girl. His (or her?) name was Angel.
This person was passing by under the tree where Lucy was, when she dropped an orange on his head, while attempting to move around on the branch. She wanted to analyze the area better.
'Hey!"
'Oh, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?'
'Yes, but it's ok. What are you doing on the tree, girl?'
'Oh, I was dropped here by a paper plane.'
'Oh.'
'Seriously! But, let me get down here so I don't drop anything else on you.'
A moment later, Lucy was down. 'What's your name?', she asked.
'Angel'. 'I'm Lucy', she said, but didn't want to ask her new friend if he was a he or if she was a she.
'I'm going to a party, near here. Would you like to come?', Angel invited.
'Well.... oh, well! Why not?'
And that's how Lucy ended up in the paint and cupcakes party.
They got in a house, with a round roof and lots of flowers all around the house and hanging on its walls. There was a lot of paint marks on the outside and many hoses. Each hose was in a different color.
All the guests were supposed to pick a color and get a "shot" of paint from the hose. Lucy chose the purple/pink/blueish hose.
Inside, there were cupcakes everywhere. Of all colors. Lucy ate one. At the first bite, she felt like she was falling down, into the deep blue sky, falling through the clouds. That was the "falling-into-the-blue-sky cupcake".
Then she got an orange one and bit it. She felt an explosion of energy and felt like jumping and kicking and playing the drums and screaming. That was the "orange energy cupcake".
Next was the yellow cupcake. She felt happy all of a sudden. She felt like she could touch the air and it felt like the air was as soft as silk and she was so happy that she wanted to sing and dance and hug everyone.
And people were all eating cupcakes and playing games, ball, dancing, singing. It was an awesome party!
But there were no older people around....
Anyways, in the end there was a shower of shiny bits of stars. They called it the "rainy stars" because they rain over those people from the greenish land.
Lucy met the owner of the party at the end of the party. This girl had purple eyes!!! Her name was Felicity and she told Lucy where the next town was, but that she would have to be careful, because the path to the lake was dangerous and, if she was unlucky enough, she could meet Angr, the dragon. She gave Lucy a pink marble and told her that, if she ever met the dragon, the pink marble would protect her.
And so Lucy went on on her quest.

Music and Writing

2008-02-28T18:09:00.001-08:00

Beatles save the day again!
I can't possibly explain enough how much good it does to me to listen to songs and write. Write! Music!
I don't know what would be of my life without music and writing.

Lucy in the sky and the paper plane - Part II

2008-02-28T17:53:00.000-08:00

In her quest for the lost mirror, Lucy found herself in a very dangerous trap; the enemy was sneaky and she didn't see it. All of a sudden, she had fallen into an abyss, so dark and so deep one could throw a rock inside and not to listen to it hitting the ground.
But when Lucy thought all was lost and she had failed, this paper plane came by and caught her in her fall. It was small and very light, and it could barely support Lucy's weight. But it caught her and saved her from a very dread death.
It flew with her in its back, up and up and up in the abyss.
'Where do you come from?', Lucy wanted to know. Who threw that plane in there? She would've never ever thought a paper plane would one day save her from a deep abyss.
The paper plane didn't answer, just flew. Flew, flew, flew. Then she started to see the light coming from outside the abyss.
And they kept flying up and up and higher and higher.
And then they were in the sky, in the very blue sky. The abyss was far behind and Lucy could see all, all the lands and green and lakes and all the world seemed beautiful again, from outside the dark deep abyss.
The paper plane flew by a beautiful tree and dropped Lucy on a branch. She didn't have the chance to say more. The plane took over and flew away.
Now Lucy was in this very green place. Where now?

Nowhere man and me

2008-02-28T17:32:00.000-08:00

There was this man that came by one day. It was a normal day, with blue skies and birds singing and I was just sitting around, on a bench, under a tree.
He just sat by my side. In his face, wrinkles showed that those eyes had already probably seen much, even though they didn't see anything anymore.
He turned to me and said, 'hi'
And i said, 'hi'.
Then he looked at me not really looking and told me from nowhere. He came from there. And I felt peace.
He didn't have a penny. He didn't have a house. He didn't even have sight. But he saw much more than you and me.
I asked him to tell me where nowhere was, because now that was where I wanted to go. But he told me I couldn't go there.
He just gave me a broken compass and told me that it would take me where I should be.
And he stood up and walked away.
And then I stayed there, incapable of getting up, trying to find a cane to help me through my blindness.

2008-02-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

FINALLY UNDERSTOOD

More than 10 years ago, I had a teacher. It was a short class, only a month. I was only 16 or 17, full of dreams, ideals, ideas and energy. The years hadn't consumed it yet by that time, and I used to think everything was possible to those who believed. But that is not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about this teacher, who used to finish all the classes with a specific song, that was very dear for him. I never understood why that song was so important to him. Today I finally understood.

He did some wonderful in that small theater from that stupid city I come from. There was something alive there. He was trying to do something substantial there. And when I went to him full of dreams he didn't naysay me. Instead, he introduced me to some ideas. But I didn't do it. I could blame everyone and everything, but the only one to be blamed for is me.

But, back to that teacher, his classes had a soul, a certain thing that is difficult to explain in words, you gotta feel it; they got together more than 100 young people, most of them teenagers, and we got that feeling of sincerity, heart, solidariety. I don't know. There was a bounding feeling there and that feeling was motivated and started by that teacher.

And I can understand today a little bit of the heart of those classes; not completely, of course, since he was a very complex person, like all people are. But a little bit of what he wanted to teach us, of what he wanted us to learn. And it wasn't about theater. It was more than that. It was to keep that feeling alive, the feeling of change, the energy you find in young people to change things, the desire to change. Because as years come by the system smashes you and you forget all about that. You become massified, on more can in the shelf. And that was what he didn't want us to become. Just like the people we were against. Just everything we hated. Because unfortunately, if you don't observe yourself very closely, that will happen. You will end up becoming what you never wanted to be. What is easier, what is "doable". What is "sensible".
He just wanted to let that thing go into us, in our minds, to keep our youth alive, our energy, our ideals.
That is, maybe, why he always put that same song in the end. He had us all get together as much as we could, in a circle, and hold each other's hands. And listen to that song. And today, after listening to it carefully, I could tell why.

This beautiful person tried until the end of his life to bring Art into the life of my city. The city became uglier after he left us. The theatrical movements sort of died. He fought for the life of theater there. There isn't a city theater anymore after he was gone. You pass by it and it is dead.

He died of Aids a few years ago.

2008-02-23T09:08:00.000-08:00

ROMARIA

There was this pair of dark eyes
I used to look at
Long long time ago

In these eyes I saw hope
I saw deep deep inside
I saw promises

That kept me going
That felt safe and right

But these eyes went away
And I didn't follow them
They said they'd come back
They never did

Now I roam around
Looking everywhere
Trying to find

I'm afraid they took the long road
The one that never comes back

I'm afraid I will never see them

Their memory lingers inside of me
And I still can feel the warmth coming out of
Those eyes

Maybe they went
Where they had to
Where I can't follow them

Or maybe I just missed
The road

Lucy in the sky in the quest for the lost mirror

2007-12-05T14:57:00.000-08:00

One day Lucy had a dream. In her dream, she was flying on the wings of beautiful bird, over lands and oceans, towards the Land of Those Who Never Return. She had to find something. But then, when she woke up, she didn't know what it was that she had to find.
So Lucy went walk by the sea, to think about things better. And when the sun started to go down, a beautiful indian came out of the waters and walked toward her. He stopped and stared.
"Lucy, you must go to the Land of Those Who Never Return to find a treasure that has been waiting for you. It's time to go now. You will face monsters that can devour your soul, but if you find the silver mirror, you'll have protection. This mirror was blessed by the Mother of the Oceans and it'll protect you against everything."
(TO BE CONTINUED)

Fading

2007-12-01T10:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes life is funny....how do you get to transit from one life to another that is absolutely the opposite? Looking back it feels like I've lived 10 thousand different lives....but still the body is the same. I mean it feels like I was 10 different persons and none of them is here anymore. The only thing here is still the "bottle", the "container", the body.

It is weird... where are all those people? It's just like grains of sand... one day they're there and the other...pufff. Nothing else. It's all gone.

I look at the mirror today and wonder who'll be there in a year.

But anger is always there. It never goes away. Everything else changes, fades....

For one moment, I could get a glimpse of myself. And I liked it. But it faded and I never saw it again.

The man in the bus

2007-11-13T18:03:00.000-08:00

The man left his home to go to work.
Crowded bus, 6AM, the trip will take about an hour and a half. Could be worse. Could be raining. Then we all could go swimming or drowning. Living in Sao Paulo, I don't know what is worse.

Sao Paulo. Cold in the winter, hot and damn humid in the summer. Still damn humid in the winter, too. So the man is in the bus, and everyone is very full of clothes because it's winter. The air is freaking polluted and it feels like you are a full-time passive smoker. The bus is warm inside and everyone starts to sweat, because it's freaking crowed. And our friend goes there, standing still, holding on, with that bitter sweet odor of warm pits smuggled together....

He is trying to earn life. Ex-inmate, it seems like he has a stamp on his face - "Ex-Inmate"? - go away. That's what's in people's faces and attitudes. He wants to try to live a decent life. Has one boy. 8 years old. Should be in school. He hopes the boy is attending class. At least to have something to eat for the day. Better than hangin out with all those kids, at Se Square. They always find a way to go downtown.

He starts yelling in the bus, trying to sell his "goodies". "One hand-crafted bracelet for a buck!" No one gives a shit. People throw him dirty looks. There is another guy trying to get some bucks by saying his kids had some deadly disease and he needs money for the medicine. He's met this dude in jail. He has no kids. But the heck. They all need to make ends meet, right?

Keep on rolling. Next bus. He hasn't made money enough for dinner yet. It's hard to keep far from the drugs and the alcohol. Drug money puts him food on the table. The boy's mom is far gone. Drunk. Disappeared one day. He heard she was in feminine jail. Who knows? Could've been killed in the rebellion last month. He doesn't care. But he cares about the boy. He doesn't want his kid to follow his steps, juvenile jail, crime, jail,crime, death.

End of the day, he goes home. Walking. He doesn't carry his 38 on him anymore. He doesn't want that life again. But he still keeps it. Life in a favela is not easy. You never know. If it's not the drug dealers, it's the police.
Gets home. Boy got shot. Police came down to the favela, angry. Some dealer killed a cop and they wanted revenge. They came shooting towards the houses where the drug dealers should be hanging. The boy was in one of the houses, ready to take a package out.

The man took his 38 out of the drawer.

Next day, in the police pages of the paper: " Man killed after shooting at police station and killing 5 ".
First page: "Sao Paulo Fashion Week is a tremendous success! Governor presence at event surprises organizers"

Let's getting rolling!

2007-11-13T17:59:00.000-08:00

Let's roll!
Hehehhee
Literally.
After one month working, I can't move my ass up the stairs without heavy breathing like a dog. Running? Hahaha. That must be a joke. I sprang (or something that sounds like that) my little toe about 2 or 3 weeks ago and now I can't run. Anyway, I feel heavy anyways. So, who cares?

Pretty soon I will be able to go rolling down to work. That should be fun - at least I can save money on gas. And buy more food. Not that I need any more.... whatever.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME???? I feel like shit

2007-11-01T15:05:00.000-07:00

I am feeling awful. I had a lot of fun with Halloween (I always get a kick out of it), but I am feeling fat, tired and sad. I look at the mirror and feel fat. I have been eating soooo bad and exercising almost nothing, that now I feel like a fat pig. On Tuesday, when I tried to run, I ended up getting nausea and feeling sick to my stomack after running a mile. 1 mile! That's ridiculous. I feel soooo bad, you have no idea.
It's not only about image: it's about feeling like a trash can. I feel like I'm a trash can now. Yesterday I went to Ted's to get dinner. Of course, I ordered a vegetarian wet burrito plus a side of rice and another side of beans. Detail: the fucking burrito already comes with rice and beans. The burrito was HUGE and so were the sides. Obviously, like a fat cow as I am, I ate all the burrito and the rice and beans. Plus Diet Coke. 2. I didn't eat the sides (thank God), but I ate them today (and now I feel like shit). Ok. Not satisfied yet (mentally, because my stomach was already stuffed), I ate a cupcake, a lot of chocolate and pop corn. Of course, I went to bed as full as a bday ballon.
Today, I had a lot of cereal. Good stuff. But then I filled myself up with a lot of coffee (which made me shake like ... I don't know. It made me shake a lot) and got me hyper. Then I ate the left over rice and beans (which weren't left overs at all, because I didn't even touch them yesterday). As full as one can be, I wasn't satisfied yet. I had to get some more. And I got more chocolate. Done. I was feeling sick to my stomach again. My plans to go run went down the sink. Well, I would run about 2.5 miles again, since my body has been so shitty that I can't even do my average 4 miles. Doing 2.5 almost killed me yesterday. That is so ridiculous.
I gotta do something. I feel weak. I tried to do some strength training, with my new bands. Couldn't even look at them, midway during the abs. I started the abs and slacked completely on the form. Lost the form, and barely made to the end of the series, which were ridiculously short compared to what I was used to do.
When I remember those times last year that I would spend 3 hours straight working out at the gym, I feel like crap.
Now I have a huge tummy and, if I don't take VERY good care, I will have double chin pretty soon.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO MEEEEEEE??????????

New stuff - check me out!

2007-09-25T15:01:00.000-07:00

So, here I am again.... full of semi-projects (or you can call "full of shit"; in my case, it works the same...)

Just a quick note to remind me later of my new future non-accomplished ideas. First, I'm working my ass off to try to learn some web design. Yeah. I'm now into the computer stuff, too. It finally got me. And the shit is cool, actually ( I never thought I would one day hear myself saying so... I also never thought I would ever spend 40 hours straight playing videogame either).

Anyways, the idea is something that popped into my mind when I started getting some spam email about an English to Portuguese students website. I thought: "If I taught for 5 damn years, why don't I put some shit online to make life a little easier for students when they face 'real' English?". So my idea was to make my first website a kinda friendly site with tips on how people speak here, on the West Coast. Slangs, funny expressions, words you can't use while babysitting (because if you're Brazilian, you'll be either doing that or cleaning someone else's toilets. Or maybe you're lucky and you'll be delivering pizza!).

Ok. Don't take me bad. I'd rather be scrubbing someone else's shit off their toilets than be sitting on mine (toilet, please) just for lack of something better to do. Well, at least until Halo 3 comes out! Hahahahhahaa

Well, that is idea number 1. I mean, if the library doesn't get the Immigration after me for 3 months of overdue books.... (yep. I read slowly). Oops! they can't! hahaha I can't work but they can't kick my ass out of here either! Suck it up, suckers! I'll keep on overduing my damn books!

Well ( I don't have any better starter), idea #2 would be work on a cooking website. Or at least upload some new recipes on my cooking blog. Or a poetry web site. Or both. I would like also to create a film review website, but for that I need a little more knowledge (and sense).

Idea #3: write some new stuff (novels, scrips etc). I have the idea, but the laziness takes over me and I feel like "the dude" (if you don't know what the fuck that is, go rent some old comedies. That's all I can tell - move your ass towards something!) - meaning I don't feel like taking them out of my head and into the screen. But the project is there. Just waiting for me to move my fucking lazy ass off the chair.

idea #4 : this one is a ghost from the past; it's that damn good book I read when I was a teenager and always wanted to make it into a play and... guess: act it. The thing is: it's a monologue.

idea #5: get my already known fucking lazy ass moving and get the 8mm and do something with my life (for those who don't know, an 8 mm is an old type of camcorder, not a gun. Suckers.).

idea #6: film my damn new character with my digital camera and upload it on YouTube.

idea #7: Go to a cool Starbucks and watch people and write. Yeah. Write.

idea #8: take back the drawing classes and fucking draw something decent once and for all (no more giant penis attacking innocent vaginas.). PS: this was a joke. But drawing something cool wasn't.

Done with the ideas. Oh, I forgot one more: come back to hurting everyone's ears around me with my harmonica.

Yeah! Now I'm done! Nine more reasons to be frustrated in the future!

PS: Forgive-me. I've been unemployed for almost 6 months and my only companion (the voices in my head don't count) the whole day is a crabby fat kitty who doesn't want huggies.

PS 2: This post is to be funny. Did you laugh? If you did, drop me a note. If you didn't, just don't say anything.

...but I'm hoping I'll get a note...;P

Lost, lost lost

2007-07-17T15:52:00.000-07:00

Lost!!!!

I have spent the whole day in front of the computer trying to figure out what are the options I have for my life. You know, I used to think that I would be an actress, but it is not going to work (don't try to convince me of the contrary!), so now I gotta find out something else to do.

I'm so lost!
I decided to post this here with the hope that someone will have some suggestions for me... I'll start by saying what I like.

Ok, so I like images, colors and texts. But I like doing my own texts. I just love textures and colors.
I love creating, but I think I would do better making characters in the computer rather than creating them (I think I don't have talent for that). I love animation and documentaries, but I also love normal movies. Ok, it doesn't help much, does it?

Yes, I like office work. No, I don't like working on the weekends (but if I have a cool job that requires so, I'm fine with that).

I think editing is awesome, both in animation and in movies. A lot of work, but still awesome. You give the movie the tone and it makes a hell lot of difference.

I like artistic photography. I love National Geographic's photos. But I don't think I want to be a pro photographer. I don't know. Let's leave this one in open.

I would love to do Journalism, because of the idealism of it. But I already went to Journalism school for time enough to realize that the idealism that takes you there doesn't exist in your everyday basis, because you normally will have to report to the editor and write whatever the director or newspaper's owner wants you to. And also it is extremely stressing and you don't get well paid. And you work weekends and holidays. Definitely a no.

I love writing. But I don't want to make my living on writing books. I definitely want to write a book (or many), but as a hobby, not as a career. And it's lonely. I want to have co-workers. My life in the US showed me that I'm not the type to work at home. I like cool environments. I think my husband has an awesome job (actually, he has the most awesome job ever. I've never met anyone with a job more awesome than his!). Ok, this doesn't have much to do with the beginning of the paragraph, but... who cares? This is my diary anyway! (online, but still a diary).

So.... I was wondering around Filmmaking and Animation.... then you will ask me: what in it do I want to do? Heck. I don't know. I'm leaning towards Screenwriting and Editing, in Film and, in Animation, I think I would like to make the characters in the computer, to work on the story (writing and stuff), to make the models in clay or something similar and put their images into the computer, animate them, do the coloring and texturing.... I think this would be an awesome job!!!

Now, how do I know which one I want to work on????????????????????????????????

Things that I DO NOT WANT TO DO ANYMORE:

1- Babysitting (at any age - keep them far away from me!!!!!!!)
2- Selling stuff (whatever it is)
3-Teaching English
4- Working on saturday morning
5- Working early morning (say, at 6 or 7 AM EVERY FUCKING DAY!)
6- Cleaning

The day I turned into a leaf

2007-07-14T14:53:00.000-07:00

... and then, one day, I was turned into a leaf. I just woke up and my body wasn't what it had always been: I didn't have any arms or legs and my long hair was gone. I was yellowish-brown and light. So light that the wind took me into his hands and we flew...

We flew over the lands. Sometimes it was slow. Sometimes it was fast. When he was excited, we would do loops and turns and everything would be upside down and it was so beautiful and fun! When he was tired, he would put down on the ground, with his gentle hands, so he wouldn't break me. And then up again.

And I could see the people and the Earth. I could see the people crying and laughing, mourning and celebrating. I saw Life starting and I saw Death coming. I saw babies turning into children, turning into teens and then adults and then old and then dying. I saw how fragile Life is. Animals, bug, nature and people. All with something in common: everybody wants to be loved. The wind taught me about life and about being alive.

My body would fly and I had no stopping place. Every place was my place. I didn't belong to a tree or to anywhere. I belonged everywhere. My spirit was free and I was being dissolved into the world. Little by little. And I learned about the Cycle of Life. The wind, gently put my last piece down on the same place to took me up, long ago. And I learned the ultimate lesson: that the beauty of being here is the fact that we one day won't be here anymore and, for that, all we have is the love and the moments we share with other living beings. The time we spent with them while we were all here. And then one day, the wind will take our last piece into the air. And we will be gone. But the love we spread will remain. Love is all that really matters.

2007-07-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

Pieces of people

People are like pieces
Pieces of clay
pieces of paper
pieces of hope
Just pieces

People need other pieces
to stay together
sometimes the pieces don't fit
sometimes they do
sometimes just for a while

Pieces of heart go
and come
Pieces of dreams
end and re-start

Pieces of attention
fall like seeds
in our thirsty hearts
Growing
Bringing joy

Pieces of you and me
and everybody else
We can't be just one
'Cause we are people
and we are made to be pieced together.

The Little Girl in the Jar

2007-07-05T22:38:00.000-07:00

The little girl
started out like any other girl
just a little different

she was started
with a piece of fabric and
old buttons
one blue, one brown
some yarn
did the hair
and cotton balls
filled her fragile body.

with her new eyes
and her chest without a heart
she looked
and felt
the world.

but nobody saw her
she tried to talk to them,
but... they didn't listen!
she tried to give them love
out from the bottom of
her cotton balls
but they didn't care.

she tried to draw their attention
and ripped a piece
of her leg in a nail on the wall
but nobody noticed.
she tried again
and, to make they worry
she threw herself
from the stairs
into the dog's mouth.

but they didn't care.
instead, they put her in a jar
an old glass jar
with a rusty lid,
where she wouldn't bother anymore.

and, with her button-eyes
she cried
one tear at a time
while watching Life
from the inside
of her jar.

And it wasn't beautiful.
It was black
It was white
And there was no flavor
(even though she didn't have a tongue).

Then one day
someone forgot
brushes and paint
and she popped the lid out
and painted the jar.

now she still sees the world
with button-colored eyes
but her world is now
in a light blue sky
with cotton clouds
in a jar.

2007-07-05T22:22:00.000-07:00

The little seastar

From the sky
she fell
it hurt
and she didn't know where she was

she was sad
the land was strange
and the inhabitants scared her
and there was no where to run to

nobody talked to her
and she didn't know what to say
she just fell
from the sky

and now she misses
home
and love and care
she didn't understand
why was so hard it here

and then
she looked beyond her surroundings
and in the deep blue
she felt peace.

and there she went
to never came back
again.

2007-07-05T22:13:00.000-07:00

The fisherman

There was once
this simple and hearty man
he didn't care much about things
but he cared about the people
and the fish
He lived in this small village
with simple people
and everybody knew him.
Everyday we would go into the ocean
and would return by the end of the day
In his small boat
A single basket
full of fish.
And this way he fed the village
and himself.
His hands were not soft skin
Nor moonlight pale
they were harshness
they were sun
they were salt and water

the fisherman didn't smile much
nor talk a lot
people used to speak of him
when he was gone
and by the end of the day
they would speak to him
and he would listen,
to every single one,
with care and tenderness

Every night
he would open one fish
carefully
tenderly
for it gave its life so he could have his
touching it softly
with his crude hands
And then,
when nobody else was on the beach
and there was just silence and night
stars and waves
he would go walk
his feet, touching the sand
still warm by the sun.
And he felt happy.

Day by day
His fish
and his people
And his heart was growing distant
And his days in the ocean started to become longer
and longer
and longer.
The sand his feet touched
was now cold

People started to wonder
And complain
For the fish was arriving too late
And a new man started to fish for the people.
Nobody ate his fish
anymore
Nor sit down by him
to ask for advice
But he still wandered
on the beach
under the dark sky
covered by stars.

One day
the fisherman left his home
he didn't take his net
he didn't take his basket
he just took his boat
and, along with the waves
he was gone.

Weird girl visits the fairies land

2007-06-30T02:51:00.000-07:00

weird girl
spoke to the air
ghosts were her friends
and she called bugs
fairies

weird girl
liked playing with the fire
one day she got caught
in an ugly disaster

weird girl
looked then really strange
the other kids in the school
didn't think she was cool
and wanted her
to be changed

weird girl
got really sad
and nothing her mom said
could ever get her back

weird girl
got then a pair of knives
one for bread
for the butter
one for meat
one for her

and the girl-suicide
provoked a unlikely tide
of people crying
for her dying.

Hide and seek

2007-06-30T02:36:00.000-07:00

One, two,three
where are you?
One, two, three
I'm coming soon
One, two, three
Don't hide from me

one two three
are you on the tree?
one two three
are you inside here?
one two three
coming to you
soon

you can't hide
'cause i see all
i see where you are
and your mama
your papa
your sister
and your brother

one two three
is it in here?
one two three
it's getting chilli
one two three

here i go
down the hill
in the house
in the room
in your room
where are you?
come, come,
i know where you are

don't go far
i'm just behind you
can't you hear my breathing?
can't you feel in the air
near your back
don't you hide
i'm right behind you

i see your brother
in the dark
under the bed
just by the sheet
come, come,
from where you are
because
here am i

i see your sister
hidden in the kitchen
just by the oven
it's getting warm
it's getting hot
come, come
here i am

i see your mama
hiding in the bath tub
just in the water
come, come
you can't turn
here i am

i see your papa
in the closet
just by the gun
come, come
don't you run
because
here i am

i see you
just in front of me
turn around
in the dark
can't you see?

one two three
here
am
i

out from africa

2007-06-29T15:43:00.000-07:00

PS: this short story that I wrote is intentionally written incorrectly. It is my intention not to capitalize or use proper English, due to the nature of my character.

so one day i waked up in a big boat, sailing through all that blue, with the chill breeze coming on my face...

i had no clue. what was all that blue? i later discovered that they called it ocean. all that weird people.... with funny things at them heads and strange ways to cover them bodies....

i looked around and up above and down and around again. wood. dark and dirty. the sky was blue, like all that water around. where was everybody that i knew? who was this people? and they speaked in a funny way. i didn't understood shit.

someone yelled at i. i didn't know it was at i, at first, but then he kicked i and gave i a thing, wet, and a bowl with water. i still had no clue. the thing was a wood stick with some hair in the bottom, but its hair was different from mine. well, everything was different from i. i was very confused.

the man got very nervous and yelled even more. another man, shorter and older, told he something and then he showed i what he wanted i to do: he wanted i to dip the funny stick into the bowl of water and to rub it on the floor. it didn't really clean it, but it looked less dirty.

so, not knowing what was going on, i decided to do it. i don't like when other yell at i and i didn't want the discolored man to yell again.

while doing it, i was trying to understand what that was. it seemed like a boat, like those i and my friends used to use to cross the river. but this one was much much more big. well, there was much, much more water, too.

i wonder if i had too much of the herb and now was just dreaming. or maybe the gods was mad at i. i just couldn't remember how i ended up there. i wasn't scared. but i had never saw so many ugly people. their hairs was strange.... more long than mine. and they was straight. they must have some illness, because them skin didn't have any color. i hope i don't get it from them.

i didn't know for how long i should do that cleaning. i also didn't know how to ask. when i tried to ask one young discolored boy, he looked at I and made some sound that i didn't understood. then i tried again. he just walked away. i think he was laughing. or not. i don't know. he didn't open him mouth very much. at first, i didn't understand. but then i saw some of they didn't have their teeth. or, if they had it, they was very ugly. yeah. they was very ugly. i hoped i woke up from the dream soon. i promised i would be more careful with the herb.

then i saw some of them getting together. they had a big fat closed wooden bowl. and they opened it, and a liquid come out of it. was that bowl giving? hey, they was drinking it! then i decided to come close and see it better. i got worried about they.

i said, "hey, don't drink it! it can be bad!", but they looked at i and laughed. i tried again, this time miming. then them really laughed. one of they grabbed i and forced i under the bowl's thing. i started struggling and trying to scape. now i was scared! i didn't want to drink no bowl's thing! they forced i to open my mouth and another of them opened the thing. i just closed my eyes and .... ops! i couldn't stop coughing. i was choking!
but, after a little, i stopped coughing. they was looking at i. i looked at they. it felt good! i liked the bowl's thing. then i wanted some more - i turned around and opened the bowl and drunk a lot of the thing! the men started to laugh at i and i hearded them saying something like "rum! rum! rum!". i thought that the name of the thing was rum.

after some time, things was funny. i was feeling very funny. everything was dancing around i and i was very dizzy. i laid down on the floor and looked up the sky. there was a black thing, hanging on the big stick, in the middle of the big boat. the black thing seemed the same kind as their clothes. but very black, with a white drawing in the middle. i didn't know what that was.

the night came in and they gived me food. and funny clothes. and i saw that they had funny shiny sticks on they. next day i learned what the stick did. they had a fight between two discolored men and one stuck the stick in the other and they throwed the dead in the sea. so now i knew what the stick was for.

the days was passing and i was learning to hear some words. they was very angry sometimes. but sometimes they maked i laugh. but sometimes, at night, i wondered about my home. and my friends. and my mama. and my papa. that was being a very long dream, if it was a dream. but i didn't think it was a herb dream no more. i think i was punished for something. they took i away from my home and i didn't know why or how. i totally forgot what happened.

after some days, i learned a word, "aye!". the first time i repeated, the young boy laughed. and then i saw he didn't have some of this teeth. i think "aye" was good. at least, "aye" was more good to say. i learned that, if i didn't say "aye" and did something that they pointed to me, they hitted i and pushed i into the dark room, under the boat. there were others there, but they were old and sick and didn't want to have talk with i. i was strong and i think that is why they wanted i on top, working. more good for i.

one day, i didn't want to do anything. i was feeling sick. and i didn't said 'aye'. and they grabbed i, and wrapped i in rope and maked i walk on a wooden board, almost falling into the ocean. i started to cry and say 'aye!aye!aye!'. they laughed and bringed i back to the boat. i was shaking and very sad. and very angry, too. but i did what they wanted i to do.

another day, i was cleaning fish to eat and i hearded a terrible sound. i thinked that it was the gods that was nervous with we. some of the other men cooking with i took their shiny sticks out and went out to the ship top. some laid down on the floor. i didn't know what to do. i thinked about going out to beg the gods to forgive i and not kill i.
i went out and there was a big, big boat, throwing big black balls at us! one big black ball passed very near i and i was shaking and peeing in my pants. i was crying and scared. the mens were running and throwing back other black balls. that was where the big awful sounds came from!
i crawled under a counter and tried to stay very quiet. but then some of the other mens of the other boat, getted into our boat and started fighting. i was very very scared.

then one of them saw i. i tried to run, but he came after i. he had one of those sticks. i grabbed one from someone that was dead and i fought. i killed that man. i was afraid. and then other men came to kill i. i used the shiny stick a lot. but then one of them stuck the stick into my arm and i let my stick fall. when he was about to kill i, another of them men came and told my killer something and they didn't kill i. they wrapped i in rope and one of them men was tooking care of i. my boat lost the fight. a lot was dead and the ones that was alive, was wrapped in rope like i. they took us to the other boat.

i was in the dark room for a long time, with chains on my wrists and foots. i was very sad. i was sad because i didn't like no kill. i didn't like blood. i was very peaceful and i didn't understand why i was there and why i had to kill those mens. i was crying.

in this boat, they gived i food, but the food was very bad. it was more bad than the other boat. but it wasn't for a long time. one day, the boat stopped. and they took i out. my eyes was hurting with the light.
they forced i to walk in this strange place. the people was wearing strange clothes. but they had more color on their skin. but not as beautiful as i. the place was full of big houses, round on the top, full of yellow rocks, and the men had funny clothes on them heads. i was very confused again.

it was very hot. and they taked us to a very big and open place. and the place was full of other people. and they were all very different in color, faces, hairs and clothes. i was very curious. what was that?

they lined us and maked us walk to a higher wood floor, where they showed us to the people. they was screaming things that i didn't understand. one by one, they took all of us to that higher place and the mens was screaming. and then one man would come up and give the man that took us there some shiny round pieces of rock. some silver, some golden.

then they took i.

The New Atheism

2007-06-29T15:13:00.000-07:00

Ok. So I was reading this article about the New Atheism, and I just have to drop a few words here about it. Couldn't pass this subject without making my own point, right? ;)

First of all, I believe in respect. We should respect other people's beliefs, being them ridiculous to us or not. I know it sounds funny talking about respect and referring to them this way, but I am not a hypocrite either. That is what you think sometimes when you're faced with a belief that makes no sense to you, even if you deny it.

I don't know where I am positioned now. But it's definitely an uncomfortable position, whatever it is. I have my spiritualist believes, which in moments of despair were all that I had. But also I have my passion for science,logic and my need for explanations. I believe that everything in the natural world has a scientific explanation. But, on the other hand, what is the exact extension of the natural world? I mean, when I think "natural world", what am I really referring to? I try to find more explanations.
Is it whatever it is touchable, concrete? Is it so absurd to believe in what science can't prove or disprove? Doesn't doubt give the right to believe or disbelieve, being it in the same proportion, 50 to 50%? Since you can't prove or disprove....

Does it make any difference, believing or disbelieving, or the existence of God or not? Shouldn't we be moved to good actions motivated just by noble feelings, rather than by fear of God or next life? But, if the fear of God or next life is the only or, at least, the strongest motivation to work on being good to the others, isn't it worthy to respect or have?
It might not be the noblest of the motivations, but isn't it worthy and, paraphrasing Machiavelli, "the ends justify the means" (well, I don't know if in English that is how it was quoted,but...), in the meaning of doing good? I want to make clear that I am questioning the use of the ends to justify the means in the case of doing good to the others.

Anyways, some of the New Atheists believe that you should attack faith, whatever faith it is, with the same non-tolerance of the fundamentalists believers. For me, that is bullshit. For me, they are just doing the exact same thing they disapprove: the blind belief in something that can't be proven or disproven. This is the essence of all the bloody wars human mankind has seen: the intolerance and disrespect for what it is not your own belief.

I agree with the scientific thought, scientific methods, but since they can't prove or disprove God and other life, how can the new atheists be so sure that everybody else that believes is so wrong? On the other hand, I also agree that people shouldn't be afraid of expressing their faith or lack of. And they shouldn't be disrespected for it - neither Atheists, or Christians or Jews, or Muslims or whatever it is. By doing so, the New Atheists are being the subject of their own reproval.

The Ceremony

2007-06-20T13:21:00.000-07:00

Wedding of Michelle and Matt

Saturday, 16th of June 2007

in Laguna Beach, CA

Introduction

Celebrant : Welcome, everyone! Thank you all for being here. Matt and Michelle are very excited you are with them on their wedding day! We are all together in this special place to celebrate the love and relationship of these two very special people.

Matt and Michelle, all these people care very deeply about you. They not only offer you love and friendship, but they are there to encourage and support the love that has grown between you. In our presence, you will declare your love to each other. You will make promises to begin this new journey together. This is the start of your new life, from where you will begin to share your home, your future, and your dreams, with each other.

Couple's Story

Celebrant: Believe it or not, if it wasn't for the internet, Matt and Michelle may have never met. Matt says he just had to try and connect with a girl as beautiful as Michelle, and Michelle remembers how intrigued she was by what she read on Matt's online profile. These two actually only wrote emails to each other in the beginning. Michelle says she "just loved the way he wrote: so open, so clear - it seemed to (her) that (she) could read him by the way he used the words".

About a month later, on December 27th, Michelle and Matt spoke on the phone together for the first time. They went out on their first date on January 3rd. It took Michelle two and a half hours to get ready because she says she was so anxious. They went to an Italian restaurant, where they were the only two people. And they talked and talked.

Matt says he thinks he fell in love with Michelle just a few weeks later. He can't point to an exact moment, but he knew how right it felt to be with her. He says he had never met anyone with such a unique nature. He loves how Michelle looks at the world differently, and he loves her detailed perception of things. He is also struck by how Michelle really cares about this world and the people in it.

On their third date, it was too cold to play chess on the beach, so they went to a wine bar instead, and that's where Matt told her he wanted to see her exclusively. Michelle says it is a little hard to define when exactly she fell in love with Matt, but she remembers how every single moment of that day is so bright in her memory and makes her so happy that she thinks it was right then.

Vows

Celebrant: Now, please hold hands and look into each other's eyes.

Matt, Michelle loves how you are so trustworthy, so honest and so talented. She loves your sarcasm and your sense of humor, and how you make her feel like being a better person each day. She says how she loves everything about you, including your flaws. And now Michelle will express her love to you in her own words.

Michelle:

Matt,

Today we are starting a new journey together. Wherever it will take us, I want to help you to make it long and beautiful, full of love, understanding, honesty and respect.

I love you deeply and I want to share with you what I am and the life that lies ahead of me.

You are my four seasons and I hope I can bring to your life the light you brought to mine.

You are my summer, brightening my days with your warm hugs, blue eyes, love, laughs, your jokes. You are happiness.

You are my spring, helping me to blossom and grow into a better person everyday; you are the love that nurtures.

You are my fall, teaching me to mature, to let go, to forgive. You teach me to adapt and change, keeping my true colors strong with your strength. You are forgiveness and generosity.

You are my winter, being hard on my lack of focus, blowing cold on my face to teach me courage, strenght and perseverance to reach for my dreams. You are discipline, courage and truth.

With my heart, I promise you I will do my best to be for you the love, understanding and respect that you are for me.

And with my honor, I promise you my loyalty and honesty, always.

I love you more than anything and I wish to be your wife, for as long as we are on this earth.

Celebrant: Michelle, Matt loves that everything you do and say is performed with love and care. He loves the deep discussions you have with one another, and wants to travel and experience new things with you. He says he loves laughing when you curse in English and when both your words are lost in translation. He laughs, when you laugh. And now Matt will express his love to you in his own words.

Matt: (Matt created his vows at the moment of the ceremony, saying that he wanted to be Michelle's husband and that he loved her more than anything. He also said more beautiful things about his feelings toward her and how he also grows with her).

Ring vows

Celebrant: Throughout history, a wedding ring has served different functions. Rings are exchanged as gifts, and symbolize pledges of faithfulness and trust. The circle on the finger represents unity, and marks eternity, with no beginning and no end. Matt and Michelle will now place a ring on each other's finger as a reminder of the promises they have made to each other today.

Matt: Michelle, I give you this ring. It is a symbol of my unending love, loyalty and respect.

Michelle: Matt, I give you this ring. It is a symbol of my unending love, loyalty and respect.

Conclusion

Celebrant: Michelle and Matt, to end this ceremony, listen closely to this Native American blessing from the Apache tribe.

" Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other.

Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other.

Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other.

Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.

May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years.

May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the Earth."

" Treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves.

When frustration, difficulties and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at one time or another,

remember to focus on what is right between you, not only the part which seems wrong.

In this way, you can ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives - remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is still there.

And if each of you take responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight."

It is a tremendous honor, as a Celebrant and officiant of the State of California, to announce, for the very first time as husband and wife: ladies and gentlemen,

Mrs. and Mr. Michelle and Matthew Mocarski!

Please, kiss!

So, I'm back!

2007-06-20T11:50:00.000-07:00

So, I am back! =)

Re-starting my blog with the start of my new life with my beloved husband.

Let's keep on blogging! =)

My wedding vows to my beloved Matthew

2007-06-13T01:16:00.000-07:00

Matt,

Today we are starting a new journey together. Wherever it will take us, I want to help you to make it long and beautiful, full of love, understanding, honesty and respect.
I love you deeply and I want to share with you what I am and the life that lies ahead of me.

You are my four seasons and I hope I can bring to your life the light you brought to mine.

you are my summer, brightening my days with your warm hugs, love, laughs, your jokes. You are happiness.

you are my spring, helping me to blossom and grow into a better person everyday; you are love that nurtures.

you are my fall, teaching me to mature, to let go, to forgive. You teach me to adapt and
change, keeping my true colors strong with your strength. You are forgiveness and generosity.

you are my winter, being hard on my lack of focus, blowing cold on my face to teach me courage,
strenght and perseverance to reach for my dreams. You are discipline and truth.

With my heart, I promise you I will do my best to be for you the love, understanding and respect that you are for me.

And with my honor, I promise you my loyalty and honesty, always.

I love you more than anything and I wish to be your wife, for as long as we are on this earth.

Good bye

2007-04-26T13:11:00.000-07:00

The Lady of the Lake says good bye to this blog. At least until she can be The Lady of the Lake again.

Something is wrong in Denmark

2007-04-25T15:45:00.000-07:00

There is something wrong in Denmark.....

I'm confused. Sometimes we go to paths led by some misterious reasons that we don't even know the answer. And then the shivers.... like if there was a big picture right here and you can't see the bigger picture because you're IN it....

Awckward....

Like playing hide and seek with lights off.... the shivering goes on and on....

Who is behind the door?
Who is behind the curtains?
Is anybody in the back door room?
Is anybody in the end of the dark corridor?

Shivers.... all over the body.....
It is really cold in the dark.....

The legend of the dragon and the panda

2007-04-06T01:11:00.000-07:00

Long, long ago, at a time memory can't remember, there were 2 brothers that lived in China. They were born in a small town and they had a pretty good life, compared to the other people, not meaning they were rich or anything. But they were definitely smarter and not as ordinary as the other people. They had something special about them.

Not only different from the others they were, but also very different from each other. One, the oldest, was sweet and calm and very compassionate. His patience knew no limits and, because of this, he was known as "the wise brother". His heart was as big as his body, round and slow. He truly cared about everybody else and didn't mind if people didn't thank him or remembered of him.

The youngest brother, on the other hand, was very impulsive and bad-tempered. Not that he was a bad man; but he had envy on him and this envy usually led him to anger. Maybe his envy was associated with his vanity - but whatever the case was, he didn't know how to control it.
He was known in the village as "the air-headed brother", because of his imprudent acts, like getting into fights and bragging. That used to make him even angrier. He envied his older brother's patience and kindness. He couldn't believe it was real - for him, his brother was faking it, to pass by the people as a good man, whereas in reality, he was as envy and vain as him.

The younger brother, at the same time, had love and admiration for the older one. Deep inside his heart, he wished people loved him and respected him as they did to his brother. He just didn't know how to gain it.

One day, as the brothers were going into another village to sell his father's goods, two bandids assaulted them and were punching his brother, in order to get the purse of gold he was carrying. The younger one, totally dominated by anger and fear for his brother's life, start to fight the two bandids, not carrying they had knives on them. As he was very strong built, he could get the knives from the bandids and, instead of killing them, he let them run away.
The older brother, full of gratitude, asked the younger why he didn't kill them (which would have been the younger's natural response to the assault). The younger told him, "I felt pity for them". The older, then, told his brother how proud he was of his act of generosity towards those two that tried to harm them. The younger just smiled, as proud as a peacock. He had loved the feeling of deciding upon life and death - the feeling of power - and now he loved even more the feeling of being considered "a good man", a "brave man", "the savior of the weak and indefense".

Turns out that someone had seen him doing that. There was a peasant hidden behind a tree who saw everything. Getting to the village, he told all the people about how one single man had fight hard to save his brother's life. When the two brothers arrived in the village, everybody wanted to talk to the youngest and congratulate him for his courage.

The younger thought, "They love me! They recognize how good and brave I am!", and his heart got full of happiness. The older brother was happy to see his little brother's happiness. But a mean thought came into his mind," I hope he is happy for the fact that I am ok and that he did the right thing, not for the feeling of being recognized". But he soon felt embarassed of these thoughts and went on with his duties.

From this day and on, the younger brother was always trying to help someone, making sure there was always a witness around. Whenever there wasn't anybody, he would tell someone else how unlucky somebody was, but fortunately he was around and had been able to offer some help. And he would make sure that at least 3 people knew about his "good heart" and would recognize how good he was and praise him. His anger gave path to pride. He no longer was angry at others - instead, he would preach them and show them how patient and merciful he was, and that that was a sign of wisdom - putting himself as an example to be followed.

The wise brother wasn't consulted about some issues anymore and nobody in their village was talking about him. Everybody was excited about talking to the new "wise man", the one that was better looking and also talked louder and more than the old one.

The older brother started to feel sad for the younger. "He is so mistaken in using charity in order to gain people's love and attention. He doesn't realize this recognition isn't eternal and one day they will find another hero. Then he won't have any reason to keep doing good actions and anger and envy will take place in his heart again.", and he would cry so much for his younger brother's fate, that his eyes started to get dark circles under them.

One day, the wise man decided to talk to his younger brother about his behavior and the consequences of doing things for vanity not for compassion. The younger man was totally taken by anger and couldn't really listen to his brother's words. "You are jealous of me", he yelled, "because now people love me more than they love you. You wanted to be in my place and now you are getting desperate for their attention and want to get me out of your way. Do you want me to believe that you didn't expect any recognition? Of course you did!"

As the older brother kept trying to bring his younger to reason, the young man was getting angrier and angrier. And, in a moment of impetuosity, he attacked his brother, hitting him and making him lose balance. Unfortunately, they were near a cliff, and his older brother fell into it, becoming seriously injured. Instantly the young man realized what he had done and despair took over him. He went down the cliff to get his brother and couldn't get his brother to wake up. Among tears of deep regret, he put his dear brother on his shoulders and walked to the village, in order to find the old faith-healer that lived there for so many years.

As he got into the village, all people crowed around him, asking themselves what had happened. Tearing apart, the young man cried out loud, " I killed him! I killed my brother! Oh, please, come back, please! I'm so sorry for my pride and vanity!", and all people knew what the fight had been about. Some looked at him with contempt, others with pity, others with shock and all with disapproval.

Getting to the faith-healer's house, the imprudent brother told him what had happened. The faith-healer then, said, "I don't have the medical plants to cure him here. When he fell, a thorn got into his skin and let its poison in him. Unfortunately, it's fatal and I can't cure him."
The young man went into total despair and begged him to help him fix what he had done. The faith-healer, being an old man and having seen all sorts of things in his life, told the desperate man, "I can't cure him, but there is someone that can. But he doesn't live here and you would have to run, fly and swim to get there. Besides, you'd better take fire with you, because it's a very cold and dark land."
"I will do whatever it is necessary", the brother said, "but will there be time to save him?".
"It'll depend only on you. You will have to fly and run to be able to be there, carrying your brother in your arms or on your shoulders, since he can't do it by himself. And you have very, very little time. You will know if you're running out of time because the poison leaves black spots on the person's skin and those spots grow as the poison spreads."
And getting the information on how to get to the other faith-healer, the younger brother went away from the village, carrying his brother on his arms and crying.

Night and day he would walk along the river, that would lead them to their goal. At night, he would make fire and carry it around, so his brother wouldn't freeze. But the spots start to appear and were growing. And he wasn't near the place yet. Then, he decided to run during the day and to fly during the night. To do so, he captured a huge meat eater bird, who he fed with his blood, every end of afternoon, so the bird would always come back and this way he would be able to fly on the bird's back, always feeding him with a little piece of the flesh of his right arm and his blood.

They were going faster now, but the spots were growing faster, too, as his right arm was now getting smaller, being almost 3/4 of its original size. And then pride started to give place to regret and humility, in the younger man's heart, as the pain increased.

One night, the bird started to try to eat pieces of his brother's arm, since his brother had a lot of flesh and he had his arm half the size it was in the beginning of the journey. Then he had to fight the bird. As the bird was huge, he was losing the battle. Then he remembered he had the ability to make fire and he could use it to drive his enemy away ("the enemy that one day was my friend", he thought, ironically). "But, a little fire won't scare it away", the young man thought, " I will have to make it bigger. But how?". That was when he remember having seen once a man swalling oil and fire and spitting a huge fire out of his mouth. He still had some kerosene that he brought to make light and, filling his mouth with it, he spit it in the air and let the fire consume the kerosene in the air. That scared the bird and it flew away but, as he didn't have any experience with this skill, the young man made a mistake and got some fire in his mouth, which still had some kerosene. He then start to spit fire out of himself, getting hurt and hurt. But after a few moments, he learned how to stop spitting fire, even though he could feel it inside of him.

From that night on, he started being able to defend himself and his brother from wild animals and other dangers. But his brother was getting more and more ill. He decided he would have to run faster. And for days, he ran. But after some time, he couldn't run anymore because his feet were hurt. He decided, then, to swim. Putting his brother on his back, he swam for days.

But again, after some time, he couldn't swim anymore and his brother had his body partially black now. The spots had taken over all of his both arms and ears and they were spreading even faster. The younger brother knew that now they were really close to the faith-healer's house, but he was afraid that they wouldn't make it in time to save his brother. They would have to fly now. But faster than before. He, then, had an idea and started crying for the meat-eater bird. The bird, who had been following them in the expectation of their death for tireness, showed up.

The younger brother made his offer to the bird," Bird, I know you want flesh. I can't give you much more of my flesh, but what I have left is strong enought to keep you fed for days. Otherwise we wouldn't have made it until here. So, I want to propose to you a trade: I will give more than half of my arms and keep only enough to have my hands and you'll give me half of your wings, so I can fly."

The bird thought for a while and then moved its head in a negative. But it pointed, with its beak, to his legs. The young man understood. "I can give you half of both of my legs, then, but you'll have to give me half of both your wings". The bird signaled positively. The man let the bird eat part of his arms and legs and, with the fire that never got extinct from inside of him, the blew that on what was left of his arms and legs and melted them together with his body again. After this, he cut half of the birds wings and, blowing fire on his back, he melted the wings with his own blood and flesh.

The young man, then, put his brother on his back and flew. He flew so fast that he got at the hearler's house in within a day, just in time to take his brother to him before the poison took over his brother's heart.

The healer could save the old brother, but couldn't take away the black of his skin. That would be his mark forever. And the younger brother was also marked forever: as the fire wouldn't get out of his body, he had turned into a reddish color. Besides, now he had small arms and legs and had wings. He couldn't live among people anymore. They would kill him for what he looked like now. And now he had a much better heart than before, when beauty still lived outside of him.

The older brother started crying for the sacrifice of his younger one and for his growth, that costed him so much. He didn't want to live among people anymore, because in his mind, it was the false illusion and recognition that had nurtured the vanity in his brother's heart.

The healer, seeing both brothers in suffering for regret and for love for each other, decided to transform them into two different animals that wouldn't see each other anymore. This was so because the view of each other provoked in them such a pain that border madness. So, for them, it was best not to be seen by the other. They would keep in their minds their love and kindness.

The older brother, as he was always kind and sweet and quiet, was transformed into a big and calm bear, which has one partner for life and bears one baby at a time. He would be living into the forest, among the bamboos, which would feed him, since the view of meat would remind him of his brother's sacrifice for him. He would never eat meat again, in respect for his brother's flesh. He became a bear with black arms and ears and round dark circles around his kind eyes, that seemed be aways tearing up. He was called Panda and would be still loved by all people around the world.

The younger brother, for his change of body and personality through suffering, both in flesh and soul, was transformed into an animal that had similarity with no other animal on Earth. He would have wings and fly, and would have legs and arms, so he would be able to walk, and he would spit and blow fire through his mouth and nose, so he could keep protecting himself and the others. For his own sacrifice for his brother in order to protect and save the latter, he became the Dragon, the one that protects.

But, he didn't want recognition anymore. He didn't want to live among the living beings. He wanted to protect people, but didn't want people to know he was really protecting them. He didn't want people to know of his existence. He finally had learned the lesson his brother wanted so much him to learn: humility.

Being so, the healer then made him into an animal that would exist in people's memories, but that nobody would have ever seen. People would know about him, but nobody would ever know if he was imagination or reality. He would live in people's imagination and would protect them without them knowing it was him. His protection to men would be credited to all sorts of other people or entities or animals and nobody would ever thank to him. That would be his redemption for his past of arrogance: to live to protect and serve without being ever recognized for that.

And this way, the Dragon was never seen by anybody else ever again, and it is loved and feared, but nobody is sure of him. His brother, the Panda, with his sweet sad eyes, kept being loved by all.

Ok, this is not a real legend. I have just created it, while I was doing my pedicure and manicure.

Spirit of a dragon

2007-03-27T11:30:00.000-07:00

what melts down a sword
what kind of metal is that?
what is the battle that will turn it down to the ground?
what matter should it be made from to be taken by the warrior?

it should be strong enough to survive the blow of the dragon
there should be honor
if it wants to be taken to the battle
the dragon doesn't fly with the unworthy

not for a castle
not for gold
but for the truth
the land and the freedom

the dragon is flying
towards the tower
the enemy is larger
but his heart is fearless

the battle is going to be harsh
there will be blood
and tears
and pain
only the virtuous will stand
after all the others fall

He doesn't give up
never a surrender will come from those wings
never a breath of unfaithfulness will come from
those lungs

In a land of the unworthy
unfaithful
dishonored
the only one standing
will be the warrior
and its sword

My metal is better and stronger
And my matter is made of
the blood of the fair and the unfair
and the fine line that divides the right from the wrong

I'm not going down
Because I'm the spirit of the dragon
I hold the sword that cuts the evil
Blessed by the moon and by the burned ones

This is my land
May it carry my pieces when I fall down
May I be turned into air and water and dirt
And my memories buried in their hearts
For they will never forget
the dragon and its sword

Virginia

2007-03-23T14:07:00.000-07:00

She

She likes coffee with water
Does her make up to go to the gym
Only drinks carbonated water with drops of lemon
and puts mustard on everything

She is a normal girl
she likes reading Teen
and the comic strips
She believes in horoscopes
But only when they foresee good things

She has bad hair days
When she wants it curly, it straights
When she wants it straight, it curlies
But her mood is always wavy

She likes talking
And smokes in secret
and then she pours perfume all over
But her parents already know

But it's ok
Because she cries in movies
and gives away her favorite shirt to that
Little girl
And her skittles to the poor man by the trash can

And there she goes
Picking up daisies
stepping on snails
walking down the aisle

She is just she
And likes writing haikus
and she likes that boy around the corner
but she already kissed her best friend

And there she goes
High school, college, work, wedding, family
But she is just she
Just so normal
Just so special
Just she.

I based this on that song "Meet Virginia" ; I was wondering what Virginia would be like in her teens, and I came up with this girl.

What can I do? What can you do?

2007-03-06T18:54:00.000-08:00

I was wondering today (and in many other days) what I could do to help making the world a better place. Otherwise, what would I have lived for when I die?

I think I need to feel useful to feel like a real human being, like, say, to help someone or something somehow, to help me feel like making part of the real world. I don't know if I'm making myself clear... well, anyways, I am feeling so guilty today! Because now I spend a lot of time thinking on how I can help here and, don't take me wrong, I love volunteering for stuff here in the US, but what did I do for my country? Nothing. I try so hard here and I never did anything in my country.
You know, the same old story: I don't have time, and this and that.... but the truth is, I could've done something. And I didn't. I have friends who were as busy as me or even more, and they found time to dedicate themselves to something. I never did. That hurts my heart so much!

My country has so many problems....! There are tons of things that I could've done in order to help... I feel shame. It's so much easier here to do something! It seems that it is more organized... but this is even one more reason in order to help in my country! I know many people take a step, small, but they make a difference in the communities they live. I constantly think my county - what are the major problems? How did we get there? (This is a hard one that I've been trying to find an answer for and, so far, nothing popped into my mind...). How could we fix it? How could we improve? What could we, as people, as citizens, do???????

Nothing. No answer. It's like talking to God. You never hear a clear answer....

I feel like I should do something, somehow. I feel like I should move my fat ass towards something other than the fridge!
But.... what??????????????????

I'm wondering if there is anything that I could do from here, from the US... maybe with a little help from my friends there... maybe we could get involved in something together... but what????

I think about Amazonia... I think about the endangered species, which I don't even know the names... I think about our indians (or native americans)... I always liked so much indian culture....and never tried to get involved in their issues.... =((
I think about the violence - so many needy communities in the city that I so much love! What have I done to help? Nothing.
I think about those AIDS patients that I interviewed for the college newspaper (which was an important one, with a certain degree of voice, considering it to be a college news) - what have I done, personally, in order to help them, other than writing about their situation??????

Oh, man.... so much shame....

=(

Into the Ocean

2007-02-28T09:04:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we hurt the people we love the most, because we don't know how to express our feelings, how to show them how we feel without hurting them. And when we start freaking, it just makes it even worse.
I think managing feelings is something we go on learning and learning. I thought I had learned how to. But it seems like I don't. So, in other words, I'm freaking. They are not bad feelings, no, not at all. On the contrary, they are wonderful feelings, but they are too strong and I am not used to have them. I guess this is the first time I feel this way.

So, I am thinking: " I need to stop freaking."
I don't know where all this freaking is coming from, but wherever it is coming from, I am going to stop it. I think I am NEEDING to dive into the ocean, for a freezing swim. I guess the freezing water will refresh my spirit and take away all this creepy freaking.

My bike has a flat tire. I've gotta get it fixed soon. I am missing my long bike rides, when I had the time to think and clear my thoughts and feelings. Nothing is like that. Nothing is so heavenly like feeling the ocean on your face, the smell of the grass on the bike path I used to take.... I am needing it. I think by this time of the year, the trees are not dropping spikes anymore. It's time to come back to the old path to peace.

The ocean is, for me, a balsam, a psychologist, a mind-clearer. It's peace. It always help me to put things in order inside my mind.

I'm listening to "Rain". I remember I used to go out in the middle of pouring rain when I was 14, just to feel the water washing my heart, my body, my soul. It felt good and purified. I would get inside soaked wet, but with a renewed heart.

Yeah, I think it's time now for me to get out of bed, put my bikini on, sunscreen on my face, a jacket, my iPod and drive to the ocean and get my soul and body soaked wet, as I used to do. I think I will run on Laguna Beach today, instead of Huntington. I wanna see and feel the place where I will be joined together with the reason of all my new smiles, freakings, laughs and happiness.

The most awesome story I've heard on the radio!

2007-02-27T09:49:00.000-08:00

Ok, so here I am driving back from the gym, all sweaty, dirty, tired and stinky (by the way, I still am, but I just HAAAAAD to write this story down, I couldn't wait until after the shower! Can you smell it? LOL). As usual, I was listening to Star 98.7, and they have this new show called "Flirting at 9:30" (AM). So, people call and they ask someone they secretly admire to go out with them on a date. If the person says yes, they get a nice dinner paid by the radio. If the other person says no, the caller gets 100 bucks, as a consolation prize.
Today the guy that called was Kevin, from Big Bear. He was friends with this girl, Treasure, for looong time, and never had the courage to make a move. Ok, so the guys at the radio call Treasure and put her on the line, and she doesn't know what is going on. They tell her she has a secret admirer and she goes: " Oh, no, the chick at Taco Bell! I already told her no!" Hahhahaha
And the guys at the radio say: "No, Treasure, it's not the chick at Taco Bell! It's a friend of yours, a person very close to you. We'll give you a hint: he builds puzzles and is shorter than you. Do you know who he is?"
She goes: " Hmmmm....no... everybody is shorter than me - I'm 6 feet tall!"
The radio guy goes: " But think: he is a very good friend of yours. Who is your best friend?"
She goes: " Hmmm.... Kevin, but I think he is gay"
The radio guys go: " So, Treasure, he is your secret admirer and he wants to take the relationship to the next step! He wants to take you to dinner! And, if you say so, we'll pay you a nice dinner; if you say no, we'll give him 100 bucks so he doesn't feel bad that you thought he was gay! Do you want to take it to the next level?"
And she goes: "Yes! I always wanted to go out with him and I love him to death, he is perfect and we do everything together, we get along wonderfully.... because of that, I thought he was gay!"
And then they told Kevin her answer and he goes: "She thought I was gay????"
But he is totally happy with her accepting his flirting. And he declares himself to her, how much he loved her for all this time and never had the courage to tell her.
And then he goes...." Would you marry me, Treasure?"
And then she goes: " OMG! (Silence).... Yes, Kevin! I have always wanted to marry you!"
And he goes: " I'm going to go down on my knees and ask you then!"
And the guys at the radio start making noise and I started screaming in the car - u-huuuuuuuu!
And she goes: " Where are you, Kevin?"
He goes: " I'm at Starbucks ( I think he said the one at the mountain). And you?"
She goes: " I'm at Starbucks in the city"
He goes: " Stay there - I'm going there right now!"
And when the guy at the radio asked him : " WTF, man?" (of course, he didn't use "wtf", but anyways....), he told him they knew each other for sooooo long and he always loved her and Lisa Fox (the girl at the radio): "And they held this feeling for each other for so long, while they both were thinking the same!"
And the guy at the radio goes: " Hey, this show is supposed to take people to a date! It's crazy! The guy calls to take her to a date and asks her to marry him????? And she says yes??????? That's odd!!!" LOL

Everybody laughs. And so do I, in my car, among little screams of excitement.
I love these crazy stories!!!! =))

Ain't it cute? =)

The machinist - part 1

2007-02-21T16:41:00.000-08:00

The new man arrived to the town. Mid fall, the wind was blowing smooth and cold. It was a wind that didn't hurt your skin but cut your soul. It was the preface of something that was about to happen. That kind of thing that makes us shiver when we are not cold.
The night had already fallen. The rested his suitcase on the ground of the train station. The last train had already left. In his jacket, just a tag: Machinist. He was the machinist.
Small town. Perfect. The moon had been shining the whole week,but not on that night. No moon, no stars. Only that wind, creeking.
He looked around. The dog that was coming in his direction desiring for food turned around and ran.
No sound. He started walking towards the town center. The only thing open was a small and old motel. He got in there and the receptionist, asked him a few questions. No answer. The man, then, just told him to pay for the night in advance and gave him the keys, as he got the money.
The man went to his room. Poorly looking, he dropped his suitcase. It opened as it fell on the ground. Not much. He put it back on the bed and got something red from the inside. Fast, he put it into his mouth and cleaned his hand on his coat.
A thin rain started to fall. Cold rain. He kept on looking at it. Cold. Very cold. "The woods", he thought. And went out in the rain.

Keep in track

2007-02-21T16:35:00.000-08:00

keep in track, keep in track,
says the machinist
keep in track, keep in track
don't let it fall
don't get lost
don't let them come
don't mess it up
keep in track
i'm coming
i'm passing
over you, over the trails, over the trains
keep in track
i'm going over the abyss
i'm going over the mud
i'm going through the dark

follow me, follow me
don't let it catch you
don't fall
keep in track
follow my tracks
if you don't pay attention
it will run over you
it'll swallow you
it'll get you in pieces
keep in track
follow me
listen to my voice

i'm the one that operates the machine
the one that keeps the train running
keep in track!
i have my eyes over you
i'm watching you
don't dance near the trees
don't talk too loud near the bushes
don't go near the madman's house
cause he can come out

run away
but keep in track
i'm passing by
you can jump in and go with me
or stay and face the night
i will help you
and protect you
because i'm the machinist man
the one that conducts the train

keep in track!

Fearless

2007-02-21T16:06:00.000-08:00

"Our worst enemy lies within ourselves". "People are like plants; they need space to grow and live in harmony".

I saw those lines in a movie last weekend. I think that is so true - and I'm thinking about the one about the enemy. The worst enemy of one is one's self. I can tell it by myself. After so many years, I finally come to realize that this is a work of persistence, a battle that has no end: my own enemy is awake inside of me, just waiting for the moment to go out again. He doesn't sleep or rest or stops. He is always awake and ready. So that is why I need to be more awaken than him and more and more vigilant, if I want to defeat it and change myself. Changes are hard. You've gotta really want them, for they just come with a lot of effort. It hurts me when I am not strong enough and I allow myself to be less than I can be. In the ethics, moral values and non-virtues aspects.
Yeah. I failed last week. My impatience and low tolerance took over me in some moments. That is what I am here for: growth. And I think that, admitting it publicly, the shame should fall over me and make me more vigilant of myself. It's easier to keep on track when you have eyes over you, analysing and measuring you. Yeah, judges of the world, your eyes are the sword that will help me to correct myself and grow. For that, I thank thee.
Fails can be small as ants or huge as mountains. While I think of them as ants, they will have room to grow and become mountains. So I'd rather look at them as I was facing scary giants and so I don't give them any room to grow. I want to fight them and defeat them as the climber faces the mountain and defeats it, by getting to the top. The top is the virtue.
Bushido is the way of the warrior. A warrior has to be strong and virtuous. He has to fight against himself first and defeat his faults. Samurai. I think it's not a legend, I think it's a way of living.

Change is hard. All changes don't happen without a lot of persistence, effort, suffering, meditation over your mistakes and sincere will. Strength of character can be build. Compassion can be build. Forgiveness can be build. Compreehension can be build. It's just necessary strong will.

I want to think of an oak, when I think about strength of character. I want to think of the sword that will cut what lies inside.

Oh, how many times I wished that the sword could cut it easily!!!! But the change will have to come from the inside and not the outside. It's a labor work. Have no fear. At least, I will try to.

Affffffff.

My Way

2007-02-20T13:49:00.000-08:00

I am listening to "My Way", by Frank Sinatra. How it touches me! I always remember that old man, in that documentary, remembering his life... He was old and had nothing anymore, other than his memories. And he sang this song with so much heart and pain and feelings and emotions.... while he was singing it, he had tears coming down on his faces.... I don't remember the reason, but he was alone and lonely. And he had all those memories of the good times as his company, every day, every single day.... Dio mio, how it touched my heart!!!!!
I'd better change to another song.... I'm in a coffee shop and I don't want to start tearing up here....

For Matt

2007-01-30T21:21:00.000-08:00

If there was a time in her life in which she wished time would fly and, at the same time, stop, this time would be now.
Her heart is a crowd of happy people, going by, forgiving, smiling, greeting each other. Just like in the song. No sadness was too sad.
What place was there in which she was? Everybody should go there one day. It's her hidden place. But she doesn't want it hidden anymore. She has opened a small door to it. So small that there is room for just one to get in there. Then the door closes. The ones who are inside can get out and breathe a little bit of the world. The ones outside cannot get in, and have no clue of this hidden world that is behind their eyes. Good for her. Good for the one that was able to see through the veils and found the opening to this hidden world.
In this hidden place time was a matter of no matter. Here was now and now was forever. This state of happiness would prolongue itself in an eternal circle, as perfect as it is. The eternity of a second. The non-limits of our times. The beauty of being able to see beyond your eyes, beyond your physical limits. These are the little openings to many, many hidden worlds, like hers, for those who are able to see them. The unlimitedness of our times opens doors to love, and love always finds its way, through whatever it is in its way. Love is fluid and spreads like the air. Love has no time. For it, now is the eternityness of the moment, unsustainable for some, fulfilling for others. For her, it was all. It was the unsustainable happiness that doesn't go way, the unsustainable agony of waiting for the next moment, the unsustainable sweetness that even causes hurt to the heart. That unsustainable happiness that fullfill your bodies and souls and that is what makes it wonderful to be a human. That feeling that shows our imperfection with such a tenderness that even a god would be willing to be human to be able to feel it.

It became all in a fraction of second. Or was it an endless time? Who are to define it?
In a moment, her hidden place was her only and one peace. In another moment, she wasn't alone there anymore. She had left an open door for it, and that open door wasn't left unseen. But it could be seen only by special eyes, only eyes that were meant to see that opening.

And so she was, not one anymore, but two. Time, such an inconstancy and a matter of perception, took the dimensions of an eternity and soon became long. The apart was insanely long and the together, eternal. Time, as waves when getting to the shore, dissolves itself in the bodies, dancing to their own music, in their own rhythm.

Einstein said time was relative. And so she perceived it.

The world, suddenly, was moving in different ways, rhythms and colors. It was more beautiful and full of life. There was this subtle music in the air. Blue butterflies would be flying around, no matter the rain, the cold, the sun, the wind.

She had stars, and they talked to her. They were quiet now. They were living her happiness with her. They had written it all. Maktub. She believed in it. Maktub. It was all there, all the time. And time works in its own ways. And time was bigger and unlimited. Relative.

Suddenly, she turned into music. There was only the stars, the moon, the music - her - as an indelible dust of love, spread in the air, touching that one's faces, the one that was able to get into her hidden place and made her music, and dust, and love. Maktub.

Beautiful

2007-01-29T16:41:00.000-08:00

After a long wait, I finally found my butterflies. My old catterpillar transformed into a beautiful blue butterfly. Now it flies inside my soul and fills my day with bright and happiness.

Like my beautiful blue butterfly, that spreads light and bright and colors wherever she goes, some people have this same capacity. Whatever they touch, it turns into something bright and beautiful. Maybe it's just a reflection of their beautiful souls. I like calling them "Colors" in my mind. Because they bring me the happiness and the feeling of being alive that colors bring to me.

Like a butterfly attracted to the beauty of the flowers, I am attracted to being around these loving people. I pray to God that I will always be.

I'm really really happy today.

Falling and getting up - The Way I See It # 165

2007-01-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

Hey.... I'm back again... today I went to Starbucks and, in my cup of coffee I got this message....

" I was ahead in the slalom. But in the second run, everyone fell on a dangerous spot. I was beaten by a woman who got up faster than I did. I learned that people fall down, winners get up, and gold medal winners just get up faster." - Bonnie St.John

Well, I'd say that, every time Life makes me get down and I fall, I get up a little faster than before. Each fall, I improve. In each fall, I get stronger. I'm happy that I am able to get up. One day, I will get up fast enough to be a gold medal winner....

X-mas is here - and I'm not scared

2006-12-21T12:20:00.000-08:00

Another X-mas... who would tell? This is my second Christmas in this country.
Until a couple of days ago, I was scared. Scared of being alone on Christmas Eve. As I said last year, I realized that all I knew about Christmas and all the magic were due to my mother. She taught me Christmas and she kept the magic until the day I left. And then, in the second place, I learned that Christmas means my family for me. It is my bunch of cousins and aunts talking in the dinning room and my uncles talking about soccer in the living room, where my grandma puts the Christmas tree.

My mom would make the little recreation of Jesus's birth ( I don't know what name Americans give to it) and leave it in the dinning room. My grandma would spend the whole day cooking stuff for the night. My mom, too. And also my aunt Sueli. Then, a little near midnight, we would head to my aunt's house and wait for midnight there. Years ago, we used to go to the 2-hour-mass (we used to be Catholic), that would start at midnight.Well, not that we used to, but we did that once or twice, that I can remember.
Well, then, at my aunt's house, all the food would be taken to the big table and we would gather around it a little before midnight. At midnight, we would pray " O Pai Nosso" ( I have no idea what name it has in English, but it is that most famous prayer that Christians know). And then we would eat the meal. Then we would come back home and open presents. Then, in the morning of the 25th (almost noon, in my case), we would get up, enjoy our presents and head to my aunt's house, where we would have a big Christmas lunch. After I got older, I used to head to my friends/ boyfriend's families' house, after lunch.

The 24th would be much more exciting and the days before it, too. My mom likes listening to Christmas songs out loud. Very loud. And she likes dancing (with her cats....hehehehe). I used to think that was truly weird and used to make fun of her. Now, that I will have to spend Christmas alone and I'm far from my family at this time of the year, that used to be so magic and special for me, I miss it and I now know how happy it used to make me and that it was those silly things my mom does that would make the days preceeding Christmas so special.
I have fun memories from the time I was a kid... even though I already knew Santa didn't exist, my mom would still try to keep it alive for me and my brother. Also did my dad. That used to make it so special! I don't know, even though you know it's your mom and dad that put the presents there for you, when your parents try to make it as if it was Santa Claus, it makes it so cute and so special!

So, now, that I am alone, I keep remembering these little things. And this time of the year it is when it makes it harder for me to be far from home. To be far from my mom, grandma, brother, aunts, uncles and cousins...
So, as I started saying, I was truly scared of being alone on Christmas Eve. Last year, I felt really sad on that night. I was afraid it would happen again. And this time it would be even worse, because I don't even have a place to crash on that night. That would be just me and my girl friend.

Then I had an idea. Instead of thinking just about myself and how much I would like to be with my family, I decided to do something good to someone else. I already have a plan. So now I'm not scared anymore. That terrifying idea of being alone doesn't scare me anymore. I think that there must be a purpose in everything. There is a purpose on me being alone in a special date like this. I believe that it must be that I should learn something from that. And I decided I will. I think I should learn what things are really beneath all this X-mas thing. I kinda think I was looking at the wrong point to view. Now, I am trying to see it in another way, and that new way makes me feel happy again. It seems like I have found a new reason. Not that I will forget how beautiful it is with my family but, since I can't be there, I discovered a new way of living it beautifully. And I'm tryly grateful for this new lesson and for having been given the opportunity to learn it. Life is really good to me and I feel as I am really blessed.

Pilgrims 2 (3,4,5.....~)

2006-11-07T01:11:00.000-08:00

This little pilgrim is getting tired.... this journey can sometimes be very thirsty, hungry, tiring and lonely. This little pilgrim needs some rest. There is no map and no house or place to rest. Just the road, endless road.

Must Love Dogs

2006-11-07T00:34:00.000-08:00

Hi! I 've just seen "Must Love Dogs". It's 12:30 AM and I am delighted with that cute romantic comedy. My life is a romantic comedy, because i prefer laughing to crying (otherwise one could say my life is a tragic comedy). Oh, boy, to be or not to be? To do or not to do? Why love is so difficult even if it is not love?
Everybody wants to love. Do u love? How do you know it's love? Can someone really give a good definition for love? You can love just one person in your life? How many people can you love? All at the same time?

What makes a person loves another person? What links you to that special person? Do you have butterflies in your tummy? Can you love someone you've never seen? Can love change its form? How do you know what you feel is love?
Can just feeling good to be love?

Why are men so different from women? And, at the same time, are they that different? Don't we all want to love and feel loved? Don't we all want to spend beautiful moments together with another someone? I think not everybody does, right?
Why do we, women, see and perceive things so differently from men?

Is it possible to have total connection with someone? In the way of thinking, humor, the way of kissing and hugging and the way of perceiving Life and the world surrounding you? Why can't life be just as a romantic comedy, where in the end the main characters end up together, talking about how they met and how many years they've been together?

Why do we, people, have to have different affection necessities? Why liking someone and sharing time and affection has to be so complicated?

He watches Dr.Jivago in his house, while mourning his feelings. I cry. I used to play that song. So beautiful, so sad.... one of the characters recites Yeast (is that how it's spelled???) - BEAUTIFUL. Words about love....oh, boy.... what is the border line between liking, loving, desiring and just fantasizing? I've gotta buy that soundtrack. The songs are awesome. And some feelings are just translatable in a woman's voice.

Is it the internet the new channel to connect people and create love ties? Not only love, but also real friendships? I want to think so.

For how long a beautiful love story has to last? Years? Months? Weeks? One week? 4 days? 2 days? One afternoon? Can that moment be forever?
Can one love someone one has never seen? Is it possible? Can it be real? How real can real be? How to define "real"? How to define what is right or wrong? Is it the same answer to everyone?

Does love end or change?

What will my end be? Like a leaf in the wind, as free as it is possible to be, but always alone?; or like a leaf, that is carried by the wind for some time, and finally rests under a beautiful tree, merges herself into the tree's root and become part of what the tree is, giving flower, fruit and seeds, and growing generation after generation , until all about running the world in the wind's wings are just memories of the past? Will my end be totally free and alone, or will I have someone at my side on a sunday morning and a home (it doesn't matter if it is a house, an apartment, a trailer or just a cabin) full of love? I think I want to be the leaf that ends up remembering the old times in the wind, but that has grown roots and generations after her. No one wants to live alone. Not even the wind. It always carries some leaves with it.

Funny Little Movie!

2006-10-30T13:21:00.000-08:00

Take a look at Symon.... LOL

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1263606757

Insane

2006-10-24T20:28:00.000-07:00

I wish it didn't hurt so much... i don't even where the pain is coming from...

There are days in which I wish I were a leaf and the wind would carry me away. And I would see the seas, and the lands, and the people, and laughs, cries, hopes, deceptions, love, dis-love, wishes, dreams, people coming and going.... life.

I wish the wind would take me with him and, for being carried for so long, I would become wind, too.

This pain will go away. One day it will. The uncertainty is sometimes sweet, and sometimes bitter. I'm a gambler. I gamble with my life. High bets. Hope I don't lose in the end. I'm glad the only one to gamble with me is God. He is a nice guy. I hope I have time to make it up for my mistakes. I don't know what I'm saying anymore...

Another Autumn

2006-10-02T16:16:00.000-07:00

After this long winter of lack of time to write here, spring has come again! Here I am, writing once again....obviously that was a metaphore, in case one couldn't get it. I'm getting used to people not understanding my sarcasm.... it sucks sometimes, but what can I do? Linguistic barriers.

Well, it seems like there is some hope for my caterpillar! Butterflies have showed up and flown around . That's good. I don't know if this is the right season for them, but there were some around. Butterflies are always good. I just get a little worried when they show up in the wrong season...

Autumn is over again... one more year has passed. My second autumn in the US.

The maple trees have already started changing their colors. It's a beautiful season. I know that in CA you can't really see the changing of colors, but even so, there are a few trees that have their colors changed and my heart melts on them.

The days are becoming shorter now.

The mornings are cold again.

Late night it gets cold now.

And we have very warm days.

But nothing is more beautiful than the sunlight in the afternoon over the orange-reddish color of the maple trees leaves...

It gives me a sensation of continuity, of the cycle of Life. It doesn't matter what is going on on my life, good or bad: Life just goes on, and the trees keep changing their colors, the sun sets earlier and the colors of fall are back. The Cycle of Life. It's beautiful, peaceful and gives me a sense of eternity.

Pieces of the book I haven't written yet

2006-09-08T15:34:00.000-07:00

I knocked the door behind my back because I didn't want to feel guilty for the mistakes I have made. It seems that, if I leave that door closed, the mistakes will disappear and I will not have to face my regrets or wishes to have done differently. Sometimes the door opens.... you don't keep your monsters in secret forever. Sometimes an ant can be a giant monster, an un-overcoming mountain....

Nobody wants to feel guilty. Then you eat. You have sex. You talk on people's back. You cry. You get high. You drink. You smoke. You listen to music. You drive fast and dangerously, racing death. It is just another bunch of shit you do in order not to feel guilty... regreted... unloved.... alone.

Just like the character in Crime and Punishment... the human soul is just a puzzle, a terrible and painful puzzle. Psychology can explain much. But not all. Maybe. Who knows? But what do you do when you can diagnose yourself? Or, at least, have an idea of some of your issues? And what if you can figure the problem but not the solution?

Damn life.

Beauty is nothing

2006-08-14T18:52:00.000-07:00

What does it matter the beautiful colors of the butterfly wings?

What does it matter beauty? Just nothing.

The essence is not there. The 'spark' is independent from beauty, attitude or whatever. It is not in the intelligence either.
There is a unsubstantial wire, invisible, thin, but powerful. More important than beauty, intelligence, class, attitude or whatever. It holds all these and more. It just has to be there. To hold, to sustain, to maintain.

Beauty is nothing but a nice label for a bottle of something that can be coincidentally tasty as well. But it all ends. Beauty is inconsistent. It draws attention, desire, but all these vanish with the sun, in the end of the day.

Beauty vanishes. Beauty is nothing. Beauty is just... beauty.

Louise and her blue guitar

2006-08-14T18:45:00.000-07:00

Louise takes her blue guitar and runs to the back of her house. Words don't come out of her mouth, but still her lips move.
The guitar cries sorrowfully, the pain that flows from Louise's heart through her fingers to the instrument...

She sits there, in the grass, and hopes music will take it away... and she sings, sings, sings. There is nothing Louise can do, but learn to accept Nature as it is and try to make the maximum out of the minimum.

All she wants is to be quiet. Silent. The only thing to sound is the guitar now.
She doesn't feel like talking. Talkative Louise is now mute.
The only sound that joins the moans of the guitar is the sound of her heart, falling into pieces. Glass. Cuts deeply, bleeds incessantly.

Louise doesn't want to talk. Not now.

Butterflies

2006-08-14T18:42:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's hard to face the truth. Nobody likes losing. The irony is that life is so full of ...misunderstanding and loses. It's part of being alive. But it doesn't make it any easier. On the other hand, as time goes by, we start to learn how to make it as less painful as possible, but still....

And I ask: where are the butterflies? All I have is a caterpillar... the most I desire the butterflies, the most they run away from me. I'm surrounded by dragonflies and all sort of things, but I want the butterflies... where are they???

When I barely see one, she just slips away... I keep on dreaming on my butterflies.

Deceptions

2006-07-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

I am so naive!

I hate when I realize I'm in the middle of a chess game. Not nice. Not nice at all. Not good to know that you're in a game, a huge game, and you didn't know that. It feels like being Truman in "The Truman Show". I feel stupid.

Things are not what they seem like. My intuition is not working that well, it seems. People hide themselves. People say " I wanna meet someone real, someone that doesn't play games" and they themselves only play games.

Pissed? Yes, ma'am, I am. I feel like turning.... for good. Few people will know what I mean by that. Thank God. You never know what goes on in people's mind.

But my madness will be limited to this post. I will keep on with my smile in my clown's face. That saddest thing on Earth, just made to make people laugh of their weaknesses, of their pathetic lives. It's easy to laugh of yourself when you're laughing at someone else's.

I hate believing in something and discovering I was so totally wrong. I am so totally wrong, so surrended by the same types, the same conversations, the same bla-bla-bla.....!!!! Nothing new, nothing real, nothing consistent! Nothing!

All I see around me is a bunch of faces posing nice and happy and inside full of mold.
I hate what I see.
I hate feeling in the middle of a game.

I may be unfair with my words. That is why I will keep them here. Time will allow me to think over them. If I am right, there is nothing I can do, but do my part well. If I am surrounded by lies and masks, I shall not wear masks. I shall be the one with the clean face. Even though this face may be full of a clown's make up, made up to cover the sadness people may bring. But they will never know. Only me . Only the clown.

If I could, I would dissolve myself in my words, like the waves foam dissolves when the sea touches the sand. I wish I was that foam. I wish I could just evaporate sometimes. I wish I could be over that. I wish I could be a wolf.

If I could, I would write a beautiful poem and, like Alice in Wonderland, I would run through them and hide behind them. And no one would never find me.

I shape my body, but my spirit is still the same. I feel it. No matter the label, the essence is the same. Maybe that is what hurts. I wish it wasn't this way. I wish .... maybe if I really fit in this game....but I just don't. And then the saddest happiest face on earth tries to find peace in a lifetime death. Oh,well.... fuck it.

Sometimes you have a flame inside of you and you can't control it. U try and try and try. But sometimes it gets out of control. And you burn yourself inside, so badly...

People are the same. Wherever you go. Whatever you do.
I know. It's part of the wisdom of life knowing how not to be hurt by them.

"Nature has a funny way of bending what does not break...." - Jewel

Yeah. I've bent my knees. I've stood up. And I've bent again. And again. And again. But I'm always standing up. oh, hell....i must be really stupid. But you don't change the shape of a branch unless you break it. You may make it bend, but you don't change its essence. So, you need to break it. And, in the end, you'll see the sticks are still the branch and the essence is still the same. It doesn't matter. You may make me bend, you may break me... but I will still be the same. My essence will be the same. Unless I decide to change. Then, pls, burn me and let me re born again.

Pink, Shiny,Beautiful Pandora's Box

2006-07-14T10:55:00.000-07:00

Pandora's box was open. Like cans of processed food, we digest their indigestible reality.

Barbie doll girls that come back home, put make up away and cry in front of their mirrors.
Robocop boys that play with their Barbie dolls and come back home for the emptiness of their tvs.

Love comes in cans and you can also buy it at McDonald's. They have it in a light version, of course, and you can add jalapenos for $0.25 more.

There is no darkness in this Pandora's box, because we live in a beautiful world.

Boys with their fishing sticks catching beautiful fish that taste like cotton.
Flowers that blossom too early, giving their smell and beauty for a pack of Oreos.

Pandora's box is glittering, pink and smells like Giorgio Armani. Pandora drives a convertible Mercedes and dress Versaci.

High speed life in smiling-face pills day after day. Cup Noodles life.

We live in a beautiful world of mirrors.
Love-flavored Hot Pocket feelings wrapped in mini-skirts and fake boobs for the tasteless-mouth hearts.

And who is to complain?
It's all about McDonald's.

When the morning comes, they just need to get their fishing sticks, their ethanol and some CO2.

Life is beautiful and tomorrow is another Cup Noodles day in Pandora's box of beauty.

And who is to complain?

Just look at that little smiling face in your hands and go to McDonald's for a fast McSex and, for $0.50 more, you increase your order to an extra-large pleasure size.

Sensualita

2006-07-12T10:56:00.000-07:00

A beautiful woman, all dressed in red. Her skin loves the red of her clothes, and all is a mixture of blood, sweat, heat, sensuality.
She is as warm as a summer night and her sweat is like the dew that starts to be formed during the night on the flowers' petals. Her smell is pure sin and she is just all that the instincts can desire.
Her hips have the movement of the waves and her eyes have that melting look, that is almost an invitation.
Her lips are fresh and warm, like honey drops.

She is all about ocean, night, summer, breeze, love, honey... she breaths like sex and laughs like a child. She is sensualit`a.

Senior Smiles - Living there

2006-06-07T19:01:00.000-07:00

Back to my little world.... oh, how I love this place... just the feeling of opening this page already makes me feel happy!

Oh, well. Today I got to know my senior, at Senior Smiles. The facility is great, and the employees (so far) seem to be very nice. I guess it's kinda expensive to keep someone there. But they have everything and their rooms seem to be nice.

But I'm feeling that it's going to be a little hard in the beginning for me. My senior, Mary Jan, loves her programs at the facility and their timetables don't fit in my schedule. I've got to figure something out.

But I won't let the first impression put me down! No way!
Let's see what happens next week. I'll try in the morning, around 9. If it doesn't work, then I see.

By the way, I think it must be hard to end life in a facility for seniors... I understand that some of them can't take care of themselves and so it's better for them being there, but... life there seems so boring! I got the schedule of events for the month and I was revising it to find a loop, a hole in the schedule where I could fit myself to visit her and... I just got a sad feeling when I saw it. It seems so... equal. Everyday. Every week. So boring.

I decided for myself that I don't want to go to a facility for seniors, unless I'm not able to dress myself, go alone to the bathroom and eat. Otherwise, I prefer struggling for my life. It seems to me that this is a way of being more "alive", more "into life". I felt pity for those people there. It's like if they were children again.

Hope my first impressions vanishes with the visits and I can build friendship there.

Is anybody out there???

2006-05-31T10:01:00.000-07:00

I am the princess that lives in this little world which is my hidden place, taking care of my caterpillar. She is my companion and shares her thoughts to me.

Is anybody out there listening to me? Or is it just me and my caterpillar?

Should I draw a snake that swallowed the elephant? Would you tell me it is a hat?

Knock, knock. Is anybody there?

About the Art in the Middle Ages

2006-05-31T09:49:00.000-07:00

Still talking about Art, have you noticed how, as years went by, the colors in the paitings started to get more luminous, brighter?
If you look at the paintings from the 15th, 16th and 17 th centuries, they are so much darker... the Dark Eras. The Middle Ages... They lived in castles - probably the light wasn't that good inside a castle, in many times of the day. The days probably were longer, since there was not as much to do as there is today. The fast lives we live wouldn't allow low light for us. We need the light, we are always in a hurry, we are always doing something, inside or out. But they didn't need so much light. Time had another meaning. Time passed differently.
You can feel it in the paintings. When you look at those paintings, so dark, the people so closed (their eyes show this closeness, this dark, this.... something that I can't describe!)... the work with the light/shadow is so much more contrasting! Like the good and the evil. God and Devil. The world was divided that way at that time. Bipolar. Either heaven or hell. Either servant or master. Night was night - no light, just a little bit, from the candles (if you think that, night for us is not something that would prevent us from anything - you can do practically everything that you do during the day at night) - and Day was day. They couldn't mix the activities of the day at night. I think that, in a subconscious way, this is reflected in the paintings of the time. This duality. There were no "middle", no "in between". Either one or another. The end. Also, the shadows and the low light could be because many were done inside a castle and I don't see how a lot of light could get in there.
That also changes a person mood. The lack of light, living in the shadows, make one's feelings sadder , I guess. Everybody feels happier in a light place. I think it is also reflected in the use of light and shadow in the painting.

I need to read about the subject, because I don't know if I'm saying a lot of bullshit. Hopefully not. These are my impressions, only. If someone has another point of view, I would love to hear it and join this person's argument to the construction of my thinking. If it makes sense to me, of course! :-)))

Van Gogh and the Sunflowers

2006-05-31T09:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was looking at the pictures in an Art book. I can't tell it for sure, but I think my dearest one is Van Gogh. There are two of his paintings there, "Self portrait with bandaged ears" (something like this) and " Sunflowers". I love " Sunflowers ". Can you feel the irony in Sunflowers?
It's as if he could talk to you, even being more than one hundred years after his death. You can feel him saying: " Life is so ironic. Everything dies. Even the most beautiful and bright sunflower, the symbol of the sun and the happiness. Everything perishes. Refined irony." That painting is so... ironic. It's so much like the circle of Life, the return and the re-start, all over again... the madness we live and don't know... the beauty and the death, living side by side... and we walking through it, like sunflowers... and we getting old and fading, like the sunflowers... you can see that the light is dimming in the painting... for me, it gives me the feeling that the day is in the end, as a metaphore for the end of life. The end of the sunflowers' lives like the end of a man's life. The afternoon. Maybe that is why it is so sad. You know that will never come back again.

And, in "self portrait with bandaged ears", he looks at you as if he was laughing at your shock, at your surprise to see his bandage covering the ear he ripped off. Why did he do it? An access of madness? Or did he want to show something that our eyes couldn't see? Maybe both. And he was there, laughing at us, at our non-understanding of what he did. He was looking through you. I feel as if he had a sarcastic smile hidden in his lips, something about to explode but that wouldn't do it.... as if he was looking at you and saying: " you will never know... you will never understand... you will never see it..." . He has madness in his eyes, but at the same time, it feels like he had also a deep understanding of human souls... maybe i'm the crazy one.
But when I look into his eyes, in the self portrait, I can feel it. I can feel how sarcastically he saw humanity, and how lonely it would be for him. Did he love? I don't know. Did he feel things he shouldn't feel in the society of his time? I don't know. Was he lonely? I guess so.
I wonder how we can describe madness. I think there is somehow a certain kind of strange and sad beauty in the ways a mad mind works.

I don't know, man... I just can't look at a Van Gogh's and not to feel anything. It is as if he talked to me, straight to my heart, and revelead he understood the pain and the darkness that the human soul can carry, under the bright cover of the good manners and the beauty of the youth and all the things that are in the surface. And that we don't want to see what is inside - the dead sunflowers. Maybe that is what drove him into madness.

But still, it is deep, sensitive, beautiful.
Yeah, I think he is my dearest one.

Garden State - in the search for the infinite abyss

2006-05-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

Funny the impact of that movie on me... I don't have much time now. Need to go pretty soon, but wanted to leave some more thoughts here, and then I get back on them when I get the chance.
Still exploring the infinite abyss...

This is one of the most wonderful experiences someone can have, can do by themselves. Not very easy, though. But always rewarding. I don't regret any single thing I have done in my life, because all I have done, I've done with passion. So, all my mistakes are lessons. All, pain and happiness, everything - with intensity.

The infinite abyss is showing me that it is not dark, or lonely or sad. By the contrary, it is colorful, silent with its own melody, with little butterflies and flowers. Of course there must be shadows, but so far I have discovered lots of light instead.

Have you explored the infinite abyss inside of you??

The Redemption

2006-05-26T18:44:00.000-07:00

I've had a great day so far...
Exercised a lot and renewed my mind...
Reborn again for the day!

Seize the day!

Seize this right moment, glorious, wonderful! Just because... it's it and that is all and too much already.

I can feel it into my veins, running fast, accelerated ... that is my blood, so full of life and desire and happiness and relief and pain and love and passion and .... wow! Take it all and enjoy it all because life is so short! It's worth living deeply every happiness, every sorrow, every single feeling. I've been doing this. I did it today. I'm doing it now.

Can you feel it now? You're alive. That is so wonderful that is already a reason to celebrate! Oh, are you sad? Live it. It means your heart is alive. Go deep into that pain, that sorrow and come back renewed, more alive than before, like the phoenix. The after is glorious, wonderful.

I want it all, all the feelings, the sensations, all! Because when I'm gone, I want to have tasted it all that Life has to show, to offer! For me, that is what means to be ALIVE!

" ... I went to the woods
Because I wanted to live deeply,
Intensively,
For when my death arrived,
I didn't discover I hadn't lived."

- extract from the movie "Dead Poets Society"

The healing power of music - Yo Yo Ma and the instrument of God

2006-05-26T10:05:00.000-07:00

Why listen to the classics? Because sometimes, when you're immerse in a cloud of darkness, the music comes to you as a single ray of light, brightening, shining and showing a way out of the dark, a path full of peace.
It's narrow, thin... but it's the way out of hell into heaven.

When my heart is dark and quiet, and the only sound is of the tears dropping, I hear this melody that seems sent by the heavens. I hear his cello, so strong and consistent and thick... it makes me feel safe. It starts and widens and expands and the music takes all my heart and I'm lifted from the mud and there is no sorrow, no darkness, no pain. Only light and that cello carrying me all over the Earth, as if my body didn't exist anymore and my heart was melted in the chords of the music.

When he plays, everything is right. All is fine. His cello says to me: " Don't you worry anymore; I am here. I came here to set you free and take you to heaven. Don't you cry anymore". And I become Music.

Oh, thank you mr. Yo Yo Ma, for being a ray of light in the middle of the darkness. You're the angel that plays God's instrument of healing the souls from all sorrow.

This post was created over coffee, listening to "Prelude from Suite no. 1 in G major for Cello", by Johann Sebastian Bach, performed by Yo Yo Ma.

The Case of the Dress - wonderful

2006-05-25T15:03:00.000-07:00

This is a poem I was reading right now, from one of the most important names in Brazilian Literature, Carlos Drummond de Andrade.
The poem is so strong that made me feel skinbumps, made me shiver...

It talks about a dress, hung on a nail, on the wall. And old dress, made of lace. Beautiful. One day, the mother and the daughters were in the room and the daughters asked about the dress. And the mother started telling the terrible past of the dress. The owner, she said, is gone already. She is dead. But the father came back. She tells the story in a low voice, before the father comes into the house.

This young lady, who owned the dress, came from far away. Their dad fell totally in love with her and got head over heels. He got so upset, so crazy about her, that gave up on his family and was consuming himself in desperation. All because of her. He cried, got sick, got crazy, beat his wife... turned into another man. Just because of this crazy passion for this lady. But she didn't care. Then he started begging her. And she didn't care. And he begged his wife to ask the evil lady to accept him and to sleep with him.

And the wife, with her heart full of love and pain, went to the lady's house. The lady said she didn't want the man, she didn't love him, but if it was the wife's wish, she could keep him. For her, for the wife. Just because she was begging it. And the wife looked at her husband's eyes, full of craziness and pain and passion, begging her to do it. And she looked at the lady's eyes, full of pleasure and proud. And she did.

Her husband went away with the evil lady. The wife craved for the death. But the death didn't come. She worked hard, got older with the suffering, got sick... but didn't die.

One day, she sees the lady coming back. Old, sad, worn out, poor. She said that, in the beggining she didn't love him, but as time went by, love started to appear. But he didn't love her anymore, because he loved the "old" her. And he left her, disappearing in the world. The lady said she couldn't give him back to the wife, but she could give her the dress that started everything (which she used to have him fall in love with her and which she used in the moment the wife was beggining her to keep her husband). Because that was her punishment for the evil she did. She said she suffered as hell. And she was there, to beg the wife to accept the dress and to give her her forgiveness.

The wife didn't say anything. She just took the dress and hung it on the wall. The lady started to go away, slowly, not a quarter of what she was before. And, on the same day, the husband came back. He arrived at the house, as if nothing had ever happened, sat at the table and asked the wife to put one more dish on the table. He ate quietly and the wife had a comforting feeling. She felt a strange feeling, as if it had been all a dream and that there was no dress, anything. Just a feeling.

A movie was made in Brazil, called "The Dress", based on this poem.

Caso do Vestido

Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Nossa mãe, o que é aquelevestido, naquele prego?
Minhas filhas, é o vestidode uma dona que passou.

Passou quando, nossa mãe?Era nossa conhecida?
Minhas filhas, boca presa.Vosso pai evém chegando.

Nossa mãe, dizei depressaque vestido é esse vestido.
Minhas filhas, mas o corpoficou frio e não o veste.

O vestido, nesse prego,está morto, sossegado.
Nossa mãe, esse vestidotanta renda, esse segredo!

Minhas filhas, escutaipalavras de minha boca.
Era uma dona de longe, vosso pai enamorou-se.

E ficou tão transtornado,se perdeu tanto de nós,
se afastou de toda vida,se fechou, se devorou,

chorou no prato de carne,bebeu, brigou, me bateu,
me deixou com vosso berço,foi para a dona de longe,

mas a dona não ligou.Em vão o pai implorou.
Dava apólice, fazenda, dava carro, dava ouro,

beberia seu sobejo,lamberia seu sapato.
Mas a dona nem ligou.Então vosso pai, irado,

me pediu que lhe pedisse,a essa dona tão perversa,
que tivesse paciência e fosse dormir com ele...

Nossa mãe, por que chorais?Nosso lenço vos cedemos.
Minhas filhas, vosso paichega ao pátio. Disfarcemos.

Nossa mãe, não escutamospisar de pé no degrau.
Minhas filhas, procureiaquela mulher do demo.

E lhe roguei que aplacassede meu marido a vontade.
Eu não amo teu marido,me falou ela se rindo.

Mas posso ficar com elese a senhora fizer gosto,
só pra lhe satisfazer,não por mim, não quero homem.

Olhei para vosso pai, os olhos dele pediam.
Olhei para a dona ruim, os olhos dela gozavam.

O seu vestido de renda, de colo mui devassado,
mais mostrava que escondiaas partes da pecadora.

Eu fiz meu pelo-sinal,me curvei... disse que sim.
Sai pensando na morte,mas a morte não chegava.

Andei pelas cinco ruas, passei ponte, passei rio,
visitei vossos parentes, não comia, não falava,

tive uma febre terçã,mas a morte não chegava.
Fiquei fora de perigo,fiquei de cabeça branca,

perdi meus dentes, meus olhos, costurei, lavei, fiz doce,
minhas mãos se escalavraram,meus anéis se dispersaram,

minha corrente de ouropagou conta de farmácia.
Vosso pais sumiu no mundo.O mundo é grande e pequeno.

Um dia a dona soberbame aparece já sem nada,
pobre, desfeita, mofina,com sua trouxa na mão.

Dona, me disse baixinho,não te dou vosso marido,
que não sei onde ele anda.Mas te dou este vestido,

última peça de luxoque guardei como lembrança
daquele dia de cobra,da maior humilhação.

Eu não tinha amor por ele,ao depois amor pegou.
Mas então ele enjoado confessou que só gostava

de mim como eu era dantes.Me joguei a suas plantas,
fiz toda sorte de dengo,no chão rocei minha cara,

me puxei pelos cabelos,me lancei na correnteza,
me cortei de canivete,me atirei no sumidouro,

bebi fel e gasolina,rezei duzentas novenas,
dona, de nada valeu:vosso marido sumiu.

Aqui trago minha roupaque recorda meu malfeito
de ofender dona casada pisando no seu orgulho.

Recebei esse vestidoe me dai vosso perdão.
Olhei para a cara dela,quede os olhos cintilantes?

quede graça de sorriso,quede colo de camélia?
quede aquela cinturinhadelgada como jeitosa?

quede pezinhos calçadoscom sandálias de cetim?
Olhei muito para ela, boca não disse palavra.

Peguei o vestido, pusnesse prego da parede.
Ela se foi de mansinho e já na ponta da estrada

vosso pai aparecia.Olhou pra mim em silêncio,
mal reparou no vestido e disse apenas: — Mulher,

põe mais um prato na mesa.Eu fiz, ele se assentou,
comeu, limpou o suor,era sempre o mesmo homem,

comia meio de lado e nem estava mais velho.
O barulho da comida na boca, me acalentava,

me dava uma grande paz,um sentimento esquisito
de que tudo foi um sonho, vestido não há... nem nada.

Minhas filhas, eis que ouço vosso pai subindo a escada.

The shell

2006-05-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

Once I was walking on the beach, just wandering around, enjoying the sun and the warmnes... then I found something that seemed like a shell or a piece of rock. At first, I just had stepped on it and that is why it caught my attention. When I crouched to take a better look at it, I saw a small shell. It was full of sand, covering all over it. It seemed normal.
I just put it apart and went on. But something about that shell stayed in my mind. I thought I had seen some color, some shine on the shell, but all the sand was blocking me from seeing it.
Then I came back again and looked for the shell. I was so happy to find it again! The sea hadn't taken it. Then I dusted the shell a little bit and saw how beautiful it was. It had a beautiful mixture of colors and shined on the sun.
I decided to wash it in the sea to better see its shine and colors. I totally fell in love with that beautiful colorful shell, so shyly hidden in the middle of the sand!
But then, when I was washing it in the sea, I was careless and, before I realize it, the wave took it away from me! It was such a stupid wave and I don't know how it happened! The shell was with me and, all of a sudden, it was gone! I couldn't take good care of that beautiful shell in the few minutes I was with it... and it just slipped through my fingers into the sea.

I entered the cold sea to look for it, in the hope to see it and get it again. But it just vanished in the middle of that cold water. And I still don't know what exactly I did wrong that made me lose my little beautiful shell.

Buddhist Wisdom

2006-05-25T10:09:00.000-07:00

In my own experience, the period of greatest gain in knowledge and experience is the most difficult period in one's life. ...Through a difficult period, you can learn, you can develop inner strength, determination, and courage to face the problem. Who gives you this chance? Your enemy.

- Your Holiness the Dalai Lama

Sweet Jane

2006-05-25T09:48:00.000-07:00

Sweet Jane worked hard in the woods. She faced the cold, the wind, the bears, the loneliness. She arrived in the woods like a little tree, full of young leaves. The coldness of the mountain killed some of her leaves, but it gave her the strenght to face the cold winds.
Jane walked around the flowers and the trees. She started to learn not to be afraid.
Each time a branch would fall on her head, or when she had to carry rocks on her back... each of these transformed her into an oak. But she was still Sweet. Sweet Jane.

Long and lonely nights she wandered around, just with the company of the moon and the stars.

She cried and the warrior heard her tears dropping in the silence of her heart.

Among the tears, suffering, silence and faith, she found the strenght and resistance of the oak and the courage of the warrior. A warrior that lived in the heart made of the most pure unbreakable crystal.

Sweet Jane always plays straight.
Sweet Jane cries like a warrior, is born again like a phenix and can resist to everything like an oak.
Sweet Jane learned everything from the mountains and the woods.

Sweet Jane left the woods and the mountains.
The warrior fights and bleeds.
But she is still sweet.

Exploring the infinite abyss

2006-05-24T23:57:00.000-07:00

I started my journey to the infinite abyss. Exploring it is not an easy task. But as all the other difficult things sometimes you have to do, I also was forced to go into the infinite abyss. It's scary. It's dark. You don't see the end. There is no end.

The infinite abyss... trying to explore the shadows and the unknown. In fact, you always think you know what you will find, but... what if it's so dark you can't see anything? But it hurts and you're forced to go. The only way to make the pain go away is by looking inside the abyss. The infinite abyss, that swallows everything. Maybe there is an end in this abyss. But I'm far from discovering it. At least, not now. But I will still keep exploring.

By the way, thanks to Zach Braff, who wrote the idea of exploring the infinite abyss in the movie "Garden State".

Riding under the sun

2006-05-23T08:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran about 5.5 miles... my body is all sore. But it's good to feel this kind of pain. Gives me the sesnsation of " being alive". Good feeling.

Today is a gorgeous morning and since before I got up the sun was knocking on my windows begging me to go out there and enjoy life now with him. There I go. I will ride my bike and see the beauty that this day brought for me.

The colorful flowers are just waiting for the visit of my dreaming eyes.

And my heart is craving to enjoy each moment of this gorgeous morning. Hummm! It's delicious to sorve Life, as if each moment was like ice cream melting in your mouth! :-)

Life is good. It's good to be alive.

Buddhist Wisdom

2006-05-23T08:32:00.000-07:00

If you want to know the past, to know what has caused you, look at yourself in the present, for that is the past’s effect. If you want to know your future, then look at yourself in the present, for that is the cause of the future.

Majjhima Nikaya

The first series of "The Way I see it" - Starbucks

2006-05-22T22:33:00.000-07:00

The way I see it #?

My first day off - in a Starbucks in Vail, Colorado)

" Embrace this right now life while it's dripping, while the flavors are excellently woesome. Take your bites with bravery and boldness since the learning and the growing are here in these times, these exact right nows. Capture these times. Hold and kiss them because it will soon be very different." - Jill Scott.

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The way I see it - August 17th, 2005

"Risk-taking, trust, and serendipity are key ingredients of joy. Without risk, nothing new ever happens. Without trust, fear creeps in. Without serendipity, there are no surprises." - Rita Golden Gelman

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The way I see it - # 77

" The human catalysts for "dreamers" are the teachers and encouragers that "dreamers" encounter throughout their lives. They are invaluable in the quest to turn ideas into reality. So here's a special thanks to all of the teachers - especially my teacher, Miz Lane!" - Kevin Carroll

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The way I see it - # 70

"It's difficult for people to get rid of junk. They get attached to things and let them define who they are. If there's one thing I've learned in this business, it's that you are what you can't let go of." - Brian Scudamore

The only man in the island

2006-05-22T22:05:00.000-07:00

And there goes the only man. Living in his little island, he explores himself. He tries hard not to be the same everyday, but everyday is just one more day at a time and it's hard not to be repetitive.
The only man in the island always tries to re-invent himself.
The only man in the island laughs of his own jokes. But he doesn't like crying alone.
The only man in the island tries to run away. But then he remembers he lives alone and there is nobody else in the island, for him to run away from. It's sad not to be able to leave. But that is the way the only man in the island lives.

The only man in the island counts the stars. And he can talk to the moon. His heart is big but his mind is small. But it doesn't matter. He is growing a new flower now. That is what matters every morning. To take care of her. But even that doesn't matter much. Nothing really matters much, he thinks. What really matters is how much love can his heart give. In that very moment and that is all.

The only man sometimes is the happiest man on the island. It is when the breeze of the night blows his hair. And the moon tells him the day was good. That everything is good. Then the only man in the island smiles and his heart sleeps.

Sometimes the only man smells coffee that the wind brings. And he cries. Sometimes he just cries. Sometimes it is just nothing, just because of the beauty that only he can see and he wished he could share it. Sometimes the only man in the island sees what no one else can. And he cries because it's beautiful.

The only man in the island prays to God every night to thank for the sea, right in front of him, and he prays for the sun to come out the next day. But rain is also good, because then he can take a shower using God's shower. And then he will be more than clean.

The only man in the island jumps and sings while walks on the beach talking to his friends. Nobody else can see them, only the man. He dances a waltz with the wind and the leaves the wind sometimes carries.
The stars tell him stories from far away.
The fishes he eats tell him about death and life.
His dead flower tells him about losses and love.
And he feels his whole body is just his heart.
Then he wants to melt and mix with the waves.
But the waves always bring him back.
Always.

To the same street. To the same neighbors. To the same.

A love like this - Such Great Heights

2006-05-21T17:43:00.000-07:00

Yep. I love my new CD, as everybody can see...

You've gotta listen to this song..."Such Great Heights"... read the lyric! Frankly - everybody wants to love like this.Everybody wants to be loved like this.

Just as simple as this.
Just as smooth, as natural as this.

Calm and beautiful as the chords of this song.
Like walking on the beach, kicking the sand and holding hands.
Like sharing the ice cream.
Like a pair of colored flip-flops lying in the sun.

Thoughts like this
Loves like this
Like a red baloon flying high in the sky

Owwwww......
I love this song.

The Postal Service

Such Great Heights

I was thinking it's a sign that the freckles
in our eyes are mirror images and when
we kiss they're perfectly aligned
and I have to speculate that god himself
did make us into corresponding shapes like
puzzle pieces from the clay
and true, it may seem like a stretch, but
its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
head when you're away when I am missing
you to death
when you are out there on the road for
several weeks of shows and when you scan
the radio, I hope this song will guide you
home
they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay...
I tried my best to leave this all on your
machine but the persistant beat it sounded
thin upon listening
and that frankly will not fly. you will hear
the shrillest highs and lowest lows with
the windows down when this is guiding
you home

I just don't think I will ever get over you

2006-05-21T17:18:00.000-07:00

This is such a beautiful, sweet and warm song also from "Garden State" ...
It touches my heart and makes me feel being taken...
And the sweet breeze in my ears whispers as a lover's passionate words...
And the blue sky plays joyfully with its cotton-candy clouds
And my heart sings
Getting in the mood of this beautiful, real-sounding song
My soul travels in the chords of the guitar
Coffee smell warms me up
No need for talking...
And there is nothing else to say.

Colin Hay

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Tripping... - this post has more effect if read listening to " In the waiting line"

2006-05-21T17:02:00.000-07:00

This song, "In the waiting line", also from the cd "Garden State", wow.... it's like my trips... I listen to this song and I start having that same feeling, like a colored photocopy of that sensation... the beginning of the song, the rhythm... wow... it's like having all those colors popping in an timeless moment.... it's so crazy, man.... like when you're high on weed and time just doesn't go.... and you don't know if now is really now or if now was a little time ago or if it was a long time ago.... that is how I trip.... I totally lose the sense of time... I get lost on this waves... this sequence of soft feelings, colorful.... all those colors popping up all over.... this song gives me this sensation of loseness, of lost in time, of relaxing.... Zach Braff did an excellent job on choosing this song for that scene in which Andrew gets high with his friends.

By the way, I am not writing this stoned.

Zero 7

In The Waiting Line

Wait in line
‘Till your time
Ticking clock
Everyone stop
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you see
There doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line

Do you believe in
What you see
Nine to five
Living lies
Everyday
Stealing time
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you feel
It doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see
Ah and I’ll shout and I’ll scream
But I’d rather not have seen
And i'll hide away for another day
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

New Slang

2006-05-21T16:51:00.000-07:00

Here I am, listening to this wonderful cd I've just bought: the soundtrack of "Garden State". Wonderful.

This song, "New Slang", comes to my ears as promises that today is gray, but it's ok, because tomorrow may be yellow... it sounds like hope, like everything is ok. And I feel that everything is fine and good and calm and peaceful - just because that is the way it is and that is just it.

Each hit of the drum, the melody of the guitar.... all those notes fall in my heart like yellow bright drops.
Like pieces of sun.

The Shins - New Slang

Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

Dancer in the Dark - Criticism

2006-05-19T00:52:00.000-07:00

I have just seen "Dancer in the Dark", starring Bjork. I was told to go prepared because it would devastate me. And in the end I was crying so much, so badly! If any of you intend to watch it, go with a box full of tissues : you'll need them, trust me.

I will start by my feelings first and then I will try to develop an analysis of the movie. I beg your pardon if my analysis is deficient and the terms not very accurate, but I ask you for patience while I work on improving my skills.

But I don't want to leave the impression that I didn't like it. Much by the contrary. Ironic, in an extremely sad way. I think Lars von Trier did a beautiful work in there and I would classify it either in the Psychoanalytical Model and Ideological Model.

There is a sweet, sad, slight irony in Selma's (Bjork) passion for musicals. One can feel the sarcasm implied in that and the critic to the American musicals from the 50's (which I was a huge fan for years). Haven't you ever thought about how funny it is that nothing goes bad in the musicals? That everybody, from nothing, starts dancing and singing, while this in real life would never happen? Don't you feel sometimes "complacent" with the idea that, in musicals, nothing ever ends bad and everything is good in the end? On how everything is so fake, so superficial, so light, so slight... Beauty carries in itself the lightness and the weight of the superficiality.
Coming back to the movie - marriages in which people don't really get to know each other; cowardice; how we, the society, punish those who don't play by our selfish and cynical games. How we have no mercy for those who dreams. How beautiful the escapes the human being is able to create to run from a reality that is heavier than she/he can carry. How appearances can defeat. It's a mirror of a society - no, not only the American society - ANY society. It's a human nature behavior, not a political one. Relationships of love, lies, friendship. Deep and true love. Cynical, lame, poor love. Marriages supported by illusions. Illusions that help to carry on life. Dreams that will never come true. Abnegation.

Most of all, it works with all people's feelings of fair/unfair, despair, fear, generousity; the viewer feels angry and sad - the movie works with one of the strongest concepts of love modern society has: mother's love. Nobody doubts it. Can it be considered now a taboo? No, maybe I'm just tripping here. But certainly it has an impact on a person's feelings: every thing concerning the ideas of Family, Mother's love, love, marriage, friendship and Justice can be understood easily, no matter where.
Also, I see critics on the Judiciary system, that can be very deficient and how the Death Penalty should be revised - not applied.
That prison's wards are people with feelings and that sometimes friendship can come from there. At least, respect. And how human beings can recognize themselves in some situations, like when two mothers talk about their love for their children.
There is another irony: the neighbor (asshole!) is a cop. The corruption and dishonesty of the police. The consumption fever, the desire for stuff that make people lose their sense of values, make them cross the boundaries between good and bad.

The movie has many parts with strange musicals: instead of happy songs like in the normal musicals, they have extremely sad songs (Bjork's voice contributes a lot in this term!), which composes a kind of weird scene, weird but not less poetic. Poetic. Beautiful. Sad. Instead of making you feel good (as it seems to be the idea of the musicals), it makes you feel uncomfortable, because you know there is an element that is out, that doesn't fit. SHE doesn't fit. SHE is real. Not a movie. Not a movie she saw when she was a little girl. She carries life as in a musical. Irreal. The strange musical reaches its purpose of disturbing, bothering... because you can totally feel the FAKENESS of it, the IRREALITY of it... hard to explain.
The musicals of the movie are disturbing, and this is not a coincidence. They appear in some strange moments, just like the old musicals. They appear in the most unlikely places, just like the oldies. It's such a critic to the old musicals and their lack of deepness, their lack of reality!

How she always has something green to dress - HOPE. Yeah, she definitely lives by hope. And how the colors are more vivid in her dreams, contrasting with the reality, in which the lights are more pale, less bright, more to a gray tone. In her dreams, you can tell that the red and green tones are a little brighter than the others. But, one thing should be noticed: the neighbor's wife's colors are always bright. At least they seemed so to me. Because her world is not real, is like a dream. She is kept away from the roughness of reality, like if she lived in a dream. Maybe that 's why her colors are more vivid and she is always with a beautiful tune of blue.
And the way the camera moves - sometimes it gives you the sensation of a home made film - the angles the camera uses, the way it moves.... sometimes you can feel the tension, just by the way the camera moved and the editing was done... like in the scene in which Bill gives Selma a ride. You can feel that tiny little wire of tension, linking both characters, both in the same wire of despair.

Oh, and I can't forget how it shows the irony of the Communism and the Capitalism. For me it's very clear in the movie this dicotomy... how Selma recalls the times when she was a l ittl e girl in Czechoslovakia and how she used to think how the USA must be wonderful, because she saw in an American movie people eating candies from a can.... how the communist system can be harsh, sad. And she says that it is a good way of living, by sharing. And of course, people critize her. In my point of view, the movie has a left-wing tune.

But the most important, at last, is the endless love of a mother for her son. I wasn't able to analyse the screenplay. I was to touched, crying too much to be able to analyse that.

Dance of Loneliness- another poem of mine

2006-05-18T17:55:00.000-07:00

The body dancing
Whirls around
Swinging
Lonely
Freely
Sadly

And there it goes
Light as the air
Heavy as the air
Lost in the midst of the music
Deep music
Shallow music

The body dances
Passionately
With all its lack of love

The body goes
And goes
and goes
goes
Endless

Crystal - another poem by myself

2006-05-18T17:48:00.000-07:00

Drops
Dropping
Dripping
Tears
Tearing
Go
Going
Gone

The crazyness of the world inside the normality of empty days full of unmeaningful things.

I will bend my knees.
I will feel
Not think
Nothing.
Bamboo.
I
Bamboo.

Still dripping
Drops
Tears
Glass
Wind
Going
Gone.

Quintana - Vol.2

2006-05-18T17:09:00.000-07:00

" Sentir primeiro, pensar depois
Perdoar primeiro, julgar depois

Amar primeiro, educar depois
Esquecer primeiro, aprender depois

Libertar primeiro, ensinar depois
Alimentar primeiro, cantar depois

Possuir primeiro, contemplar depois
Agir primeiro, julgar depois

Navegar primeiro, aportar depois
Viver primeiro, morrer depois."

" Feel first, think after
Forgive first, judge after

Love first, educate after
Forget first, learn after

Free first, teach after
Feed first, sing after

Have first, gaze after
Act first, judge after

Sail first, arrive after
Live first, die after."

" O tempo eh a insonia da eternidade"
" Time is the insomnia of eternity"

" O despertador eh um acidente de trafego de sono"
" The alarm clock is an accident on the sleep traffic"

" Esta vida eh uma estranha hospedaria,
De onde se parte quase sempre as tontas,
Pois nunca as nossas malas estao prontas,
E a nossa conta nunca estah em dia."

" This life is a strange guest house,
From where we always departure in a hurry,
Because our luggage is never ready,
And our bill never paid."

Quintana - Vol.1

2006-05-18T16:32:00.000-07:00

This is a series of homages to beautiful Brazilian poets, starting with Mario Quintana. I shall say that I won't be able to pay this homage up to the level it is deserved.

" A alma eh essa coisa que nos pergunta se a alma existe."

" The soul is this thing that asks us if the soul exists."

" O segredo eh nao correr atras das borboletas... Eh cuidar do jardim para que elas venham ateh voce."

" The secret is not to run after the butterflies... It is taking care of the garden to bring them to you."

" Reflexao de Lavoisier ao descobrir que lhe haviam roubado a carteira: nada se perde, tudo muda de dono."
" Lavoisier's reflexion when he found out that someone had stole his wallet: nothing is lost, everything changes to another owner." ( It didn't work good in English.... translator's fault...sorry!)

" Sempre me senti isolado nessas reunioes sociais: o excesso de gente impede de ver as pessoas..."
" I've always felt isolated in these social meetings: the excess of people blocks to see the people..."

Book of Secrets - O livro dos segredos

2006-05-18T16:31:00.000-07:00

I had a notebook, a cheap notebook, that I had bought for my Writing ESL class. As I dropped the class, the notebook was forgotten in the back of my drawer. But, another day, while I was cleaning up my drawers, I found it. And it had an irresistible appeal on me, to write in it. But... write what?? I had no idea.
I left the notebook there, in a visible place, for when I had any idea of what to do with it. Then, one day, I was going through my emails and I got a beautiful message. I wrote it in a piece of paper and then I thought: " Hey, why to write it in a small piece of paper that I can easily lose, if I can write it in my notebook? I don't have anything else to write in it anyways..."

Then this notebook turned out to be my friend in trips and moments at Starbucks, over coffee. Now it 's registered in him poems, thoughts, pieces of beauty that I collect along my way through life, drawings, tears, smiles, stories... that is my notebook.

2006-05-17T10:27:00.000-07:00

"When I raise my flashing sword and my hand takes hold on judgement,
I will take vengeance upon my enemies.
And I will repay those who haze me.
O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints."

" ... we must all fear evil men. But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men!"

"Never shall innocent blood be shed.Yet, the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river: The three shall spread their blackened wings and be the vengeful, striking hammer of God."

" Now you will receive us.
We do not ask for your poor or your hungry.
We do not want your tired and sick.
It is your corrupt we claim. It is your evil that will be sought by us.
With every breath, we shall hunt them down.
Each day we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies.

Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal.

These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace!
These are not polite suggestions.
These are cores of behavior, and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost!

There are varying degrees of evil.
We urge your lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption into our domain.
For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three."

" And shepherds we shall be for Thee, my Lord, for Thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
So we shall flow a river forth unto Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen."

Extracted from the movie "The Boondock Saints".

Sao Paulo riots - Motim em Sampa

2006-05-17T10:06:00.000-07:00

I couldn't let it go without writing something about it. My friends in Sao Paulo wrote to me, each telling how they view the situation there. I'm so upset with that. I'm worried about my friends, cousins, the people I like that are there. Hopefully, things are getting calmer now. But this is to remind us that the govern needs to start working better in Security. We can't let ourselves be dominated by fear of PCC and we can't let them say what we can and can't do. So it means that if a gang leader is transferred to another prison, Sao Paulo (or any other city) is to become a hell, is to become a total chaos? How can it be possible? Fucking government. This is PSDB govern, my friends. This is the security in the prisons that MR.Alckimin, in his 8 years of govern of the state has done for the prison system. What did he do? It is still possible to order murders, chaos and everything from the prison!!!! Fucking hell!
This shouldn't be possible! This shouldn't be happening! I know I'm not there and I'm not very "in" in the politics scene, but ...COME ON!!!

This shows how our prison system is wanting. What a shame. What a pain. The city that I love so much.... my dear Sao Paulo, becoming this chaos... my friends all there, in the middle of that small "civil war" atmosphere.... hell.

Eu nao poderia deixar passar sem escrever algo sobre. Meus amigos em Sao Paulo me escreveram, cada um contando como viu a situacao por lah. Fiquei super chateada. Estou preocupada com meus amigos, primas, as pessoas que eu gosto que vivem por lah. Se Deus quiser, as coisas vao melhorar. Mas isso nos mostra que o governo deveria comecar a trabalhar melhor na questao da Seguranca. Nos nao podemos nos deixar ser dominados pelo medo do PCC e nos nao podemos deixa-los dizer o que podemos ou nao fazer. Entao isso quer dizer que, se um lider de gangue eh transferido de prisao, Sao Paulo (ou qq outra cidade), deve ser tornar um inferno, um caos total ? Como isso eh possivel? Maldito governo. Esse eh o governo do PSDB, meus amigos. Essa eh a seguranca nas prisoes que o Sr.Alckimin, nos seus 8 anos de governo do Estado, fez pelo sistema carcerario. O que ele fez? Ainda eh possivel ordenar assassinatos, caos, chacinas a partir das prisoes! Fucking hell!

Isso nao deveria ser possivel! Isso nao deveria estar acontecendo! Eu sei que eu nao estou aih e estou meio por fora da cena politica, mas... Convenhamos!

Isso nos mostra como o nosso sistema carcerario eh falho. Que vergonha. Que tristeza. A cidade que eu tanto amo... minha querida Sampa, transformada no caos total... e todos os meus amigos lah, no meio desse clima de "guerra civil" ... inferno.

Staying alive

2006-05-10T23:45:00.000-07:00

After so long, I am giving signs of life.... I'm really tired now, but I just had to leave a comment here... I've just watched "Amores Perros" ( " Love's a bitch" ), by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. This guy is really good. I'm not very sure, but I guess he directed " Nicotina" also... another good movie. I've been seeing good stuff lately, some of them because of my Film classes. Only God knows how much I love those classes and how sad I am that they are about to end. Another good one I've seen lately is : " Garden State" and " The Boondock Saints".
Wow.... I'm still touched, impressed by Amores Perros... the Mexican cinema has presented some very good stuff lately. So did the Argentinian cinema. Amores Perros... I'll write something more consistent later - now my brain is smashed by tiredness and sleepy.... and the thousand thoughts the movie developed in my poor used brain...

Promise I will get back to you, my friends, as soon as possible, with more news from My Hidden World, where I've been hiding, getting lost, getting mad and coming back to sanity,all at once.

I want my country, my beaches, my people, my friends, my family!!!! I want my Brasil!!!!!

2006-02-27T09:36:00.000-08:00

Man.... I want my people, my friends, my family, my warm beaches and delicious food....! I want the life I recognize back! I miss it so fucking much!

I have just got an email from a very dear friend, who I haven't seem for a loooong time... and saw pictures of her and her family (she is already a mom! and I remember when we used to skip classes at school when we were 15!), on the beach, on our delicious summer..... I MISS THAT ALL SO FUCKING MUCH!!!!!!!!!

I decided to stay and that is good for me, but... sometimes my heart just breaks ( like now) and I can't control the tears rolling down on my face... our brazilian summer.... our warm beaches.... our sea.... our food..... our "pf".... our "feijoada".... our "skol, brahma, kaiser, antartica, bohemia, bavaria, itaipava e ateh mesmo a horrivel Nova Schin" (those are our beer brands).... the little bars (kind of bar-bakery-or-something-like-that) on the corner of the streets, on Augusta Street, very close to Paulista Avenue, across from "Espaco Unibanco" movie theater, with all those plastic chairs and tables and all that alternative, different people there, drinking a brain-freezing beer even in the winter.... my friends.... my USP.... oh, my so beloved USP and that fucking system of grades that they have.... (USP, for those who don't know, means: University of Sao Paulo)....

Alan, Roberto, Raimundo, Patty, Andre, Sheilinha, Ricardo, Ton, Andreza, Tati, Vagner, Gui, Manu, Rogerio, Will, Ralph, Fabao, Livia, Patricia minha prima, Claudinha, Juju, Maris, the volleyball friends, friends from CNA, Fernanda, Carol.... friends.... Have I forgotten anybody? Hummm.... if I did, please forgive me : I am in the flow of the emotion.

Mom....
My grumpy brother...
my old, old, old granny....
my cat....
my dog - who bit me 2 or 3 times in his life - but i never bit him back! ;) .....

I MISS YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bring me back our sun! Bring me back our beaches! Our beer on the beach! Our music! Bring me back what it is like listen to Ivete Sangalo in Carnival! Bring me back what it is like to spend The New Years Eve and Carnival on the beach, drinking very cold beer and listening to our warm music in our warm weather with our warm people!!!! Bring me back home! Bring me back to my grandma's house in the end of a sunny afternoon! Bring me back the unique and special smell you feel when you get into her house! Bring me back that atmosphere ...! Bring me back my mom's chicken pie! Bring me back my mom's broccoli pie! Bring me back my mom's banana pie! Bring me back smoking in my brother's bedroom while talking about something and enjoying our friends' moments!

I think I won't have it for a long, long time yet....

Under the dark blue rain - poem by myself

2006-02-13T23:55:00.000-08:00

Under the dark blue rain

by Michelle Inaba

I walk in this street
The rain washes all my body
But not my sorrow

The drops are not silver
They are dark blue
As the sky above me
If I was supposed to run somewhere
I wouldn’t know the directions
But my soul is tired
It has already walked so much!
And I haven’t gotten anywhere
In this watercolor of shadows
The music touches my spirit
It is a soft silk hand
To pet my hurt and blind feelings
And I’m guided to a place of peace and serenity
The notes are like balsam
My body gets shine
And I walk over the profound puddle
I know this street
It will take long to end
But I hope the dark blue rain stops
So I can see a little bit of light
Trying to find the way again
As I go into the thick blue
And my feet get wet with the dark water
I understand more and more that I'm lost
And the urgency of coming back
All I have is just that dark water around me
That I would be good if I could have a little sun
But not today
Today I will walk under the rain
Soak my soul
Thirsty to understand.

Somewhere between san fran and today

2006-02-03T17:41:00.000-08:00

I lost myself. Definitely. I am somewhere between San Fran and today.
I don't know exatly where I lost me.
I was so full of life, so full of certainty of everything... what happened?

Today I feel with a hole in my soul. No reason. Not that I know.

In san fran everything seemed so possible, so bright, so colorful.
The colors started to fade, slowly.... they started to melt and I, desperately, try to drag them with me. I try to keep them alive. But .... I lost them! I don't know where. I try to re-do the way I was following... but...just shadows.

The best days of my life

2006-02-03T17:31:00.000-08:00

If I could, I would live forever in those four days in San Fran....those were the best days of my life.

Old buddies ( Velhos amigos)

2006-01-30T17:40:00.000-08:00

Man..... it's so strange when you see your old buddies again...! I have just found some buddies from the times of middle school, high school.... it doesn't seem to me it was so long ago.... yeah.... life changes....

Gosh, my friends are MARRIED AND WITH CHILDREN!!!!

How???

And I am still in my "teens" life.... enjoying life as if I was still 18. Sometimes I don't believe in my own age. It seems that someone is trying to cheat on me and I am not buying the idea!

Almost all my old buddies have children now...
Married....

It doesn't seem real.... my life is so different from theirs! They have their degrees, their husbands, wives and their children. Gosh....so different from my life.... I got kinda of scared now. I don't know why. I don't know if I am living a "real" life. This "au pair" life doesn' t seem real, as my friend Sam said.... it is just so... out of what I have always considered as "normal" ! It seems that I live in a different sphere, in another dimension.

Irvine....the perfect city....
Make up
My old car
Nor a penny in my pocket.

What world is this in which I have been living in???

???????????

He - the turning moment: when a J becomes a K

2006-01-30T00:51:00.000-08:00

For that crazy moment, he would leave it all.
And he did.
All the passion that she carried... it was too much for him. He could explode. And he did. And the stars were nothing. And the universe became small.
All the madness, the crazyness were in him.
He felt so fulfilled, so intense, that he couldn't control the flow of life running inside of him.
He had no body anymore.
He became part of everything.
He would die for her.
Nothing mattered anymore.
That minute was eternal.

Nothing was ever deeper than that moment. Than her.
And, under her, the cold, inflexible metal. His sword.
Nothing would ever be over her. Not even his sword.

She was the perfect circle.
He started in her.
She was the beginning.
She was the middle.
And she would be his end.
Anything before her.
Anything after her.

Just her.

Purple Sensitiveness

2006-01-29T23:58:00.000-08:00

Purple Sensitiveness

by Michelle Inaba

Dense
Crazy
Lost
Intense
Lonely
In this darkness
The search for something that is untouchable
Everything spins
The heart beats frantic
Unsensitivily sensitiviness
Madness
Surrender
Totality
A limited body that carries
A spirit that cannot be satisfied with the ordinary
A mind that cannot catch up with the heart
Where does all the beauty go
when it's dark inside?
What does one do
when it doesn't know which the way is?
When all the paths lead to nowhere?
Confusion
The soul is a red rose
Pulsing
Bleeding
Passionately
Crazily
What do you do
when your skin is so thin
that even the summer breeze can cut you
From the inside?
When healing is a mirage
And you are heavenly on one step from the edge?
When even the sound of a pin dropping
Is an explosion
running in your blood
Popping up inside your veins?
Where do you run to?
Where would you go
If you had no other choice
but being you?
What do you do
when a gift becomes a curse?
Sensitiveness
Sharp Purple Violet
Smoothly
Cutting
the flesh.

The Death - The 12th card ( A Morte - Carta numero 12)

2006-01-26T12:24:00.000-08:00

He has gone.
She was left behind, the sword in her hands. What to do now?
Alone, she walked... the dry leaves on the ground showed that winter would be hard. That could help her. Or destroy her for good.

But this is just part of a long journey. It's her journey, and only hers.

The cabin seemed so empty.... the warmth had gone, together with him. Now everything was quite similar : the coldness of the place, the coldness of her heart. It had to be this way. She had just this choice. Passion would be no use now. Maybe even destructive.

But how to shut this inner voice up? How to control her effervescent blood, that flowed in her veins with such a strength that it was hard even to breath?

She was a dragon. And he knew it. He knew it since the very first time he saw her.

The sword in her hands was being dragged, grabbing itself to the ground, as if it knew what was expecting it... but,as she, the sword would have to go, in the very same way as she grabbed to the soil, her soul desiring to stay, in peace, in calm... she would go. And so would the sword.

And, with this thought, she felt the strength coming from the earth and growing up all inside her body and filling her spirit with what she needed. And, with a strong and decided movement, she put the sword into the soil, right in front of her door.

Turning into her left, she looked to the abism, right by her cabin. The wind that blew all her red long hair back was the same wind that took her scream to the world:

" COME!"

Ele se foi.
Ela foi deixada pra tras, a espada em suas maos. O que fazer agora?
Sozinha, ela caminhou... as folhas secas no chao mostravam que o inverno seria duro. Isso poderia ajuda-la. Ou destrui-la de uma vez por todas.

Mas esta eh apenas uma parte de uma longa jornada. Eh a jornada dela e somente dela.

A cabana parecia tao vazia.... o calor havia se esvaido, junto com ele. Agora tudo era bem parecido : o frio do lugar, o frio de seu coracao. Tinha que ser assim. Ela soh tinha essa opcao. A paixao nao seria util agora. Poderia ser ateh destrutiva.

Mas como calar essa voz que vem de dentro dela? Como controlar esse sangue efervescente, que corria nas veias dela com tanta forca que era dificil ateh respirar?

Ela era um dragao. E ele sabia disso. Ele sabia disso desde o primeiro instante em que a viu.

A espada em suas maos era arrastada, agarrando-se ao solo, como se soubesse o que a esperava... mas, como ela, a espada teria que ir, e exatamente da mesma maneira que ela se agarrava ao solo, sua alma desejando ficar, em paz, em calma... ela ira. E tambem iria a espada.

E, com este pensamento, ela sentiu a forca vindo da terra e crescendo dentro de seu corpo e preenchendo seu espirito com o que ela precisava. E , com um movimento forte e decidido, ela fincou a espada no solo, bem em frente de sua porta.

Virando-se para sua esquerda, ela olhou o abismo, bem ao lado de sua cabana. O vento que soprava em seus longos cabelos vermelhos era o mesmo vento que levou o seu grito ao mundo:

" VENHAM!"

The Hidden Place - A poem by myself ( Um poema feito por mim)

2006-01-23T12:24:00.001-08:00

The Hidden Place

by Michelle Inaba

In a far, far away place
Beyond the mountains
Beyond the sea
In a distant land
Forgotten by the world
There I am
Hidden
From all the noise of the world
In this very cosy place
Which is so mine,
Where the pine trees whisper to the wind's ears
And the small flowers open themselves to be kissed by the sun
And where all the poetry
Turn from words into reality
There I am
There I hide
In this magic place
There are no questions
No doubts
In this very hidden place
I can't lose track of myself
I can't get lost
In this very special place
The weather is never too cold
Neither too hot
It's always time to go out and smile
And Rainbows come without rain
In my very hidden place
I can hear God's voice
Peace comes like raindrops
You just need to stand there and
Let yourself get drenched of it
You can dance the music of silence
In the rhythm of your body
Nobody is there
There is nobody home
It is the hidden place
Where it's never too late
Or too soon
Where you can always hide from the world
But never from yourself
I wish I could stay there forever.

O lugar escondido

Em um lugar muito, muito distante
Alem das montanhas
Alem do mar
Em uma terra distante
Esquecida pelo mundo
Lah eu estou
Escondida
De todo o barulho do mundo
Nesse pequeno e aconchegante lugar
Que eh tao meu,
Onde os pinheiros sussurram aos ouvidos do vento
E as florzinhas se abrem para serem beijadas pelo sol
E onde toda a poesia
Transforma-se de palavras em realidade
Aqui estou eu
Aqui eu me escondo
Neste lugar magico
Nao existem perguntas
Nao existem duvidas
Neste lugar escondido
Nao ha como perder o rumo de mim mesma
Nao ha como me perder
Nesse lugar tao especial
O tempo nunca eh muito frio
Nem muito quente
E eh sempre tempo de sair e sorrir
E arco-iris sempre vem sem chuva
Nesse meu lugar escondido
Eu consigo ouvir a voz de Deus
A paz vem como gotas de chuva
Voce soh precisa ficar lah fora
E se deixar encharcar
Voce pode dancar a musica do silencio
No ritmo do seu corpo
Ninguem estah lah
Nao hah ninguem em casa
Esse eh o lugar escondido
Onde nunca eh tarde demais
Ou cedo demais
Onde voce pode sempre se esconder do mundo
Mas nunca de si mesmo
Eu queria poder ficar lah pra sempre.