Assim é o amor!

Pois o dia até estava quente, com nuvens azuis no céu, e uma brisa suave e sufocante. A noite foi escaldante! Ver-te, sentir-te, beijar-te, abraçar-te, conhecer-te pela primeira vez!!!
Parece longinquo esse dia de verão quase morte, esse dia que anunciava muito mais as cores fortes de Outono que o escaldate sol de Verão. Mas por muito longinquo que seja tenho em mim a memória desse dia, e do dia que se seguiu, e do outro e do outro: AMO-TE!!! E esse é o melhor sonho, um sonho do qual não se acorda, apenas se morre, um sonho que se vive cada segundo o mais intensamente possivel... És e serás sempre o meus sonho, a minha vida, o meu todo e o meu mais que tudo. És a culpa da minha felicidade, és a mãe dos meus sonhos e serás a mãe dos nossos filhos. Lado a lado seremos pais, seremos avós, e um dia, quem sabe, seremos velhos, sorrindo, de mão dada, como se o tempo nunca tivesse passado...

love can be beautiful and tough, as hard as love can get: with all the fights and all the reconciliations and make up sex and love and kisses...
I can never tell you how much I love you 'till someone creates a language that can reflects all I feel for you!!!
I will love you, always did ad always did... and one day you'll feel it too...
Until that day comes... I will just love you!!!

A drawing long time ago

A long time ago, so long ago I can't really remember how old was I back then, you gave me something. From the beauty of your mind and the perfection of your hands a form of art was born. You drew little Asterix whining, arms laced on top of his belly. You told me it reminded you of me when I whine. You told me I should think of it next time something or someone upsets me and I should smile, just think of it and smile.
For months in a row, maybe years, who knows, I kept growing and arguing and whining and complaining... but only for a few seconds. Then, after a few seconds, minutes, that drawing of yours would come into my mind, my memory would not betray me, and I could even remember the smile on your face, the bright in your eyes when I opened the envelope with your drawing inside.
For years to follow I lost parts of the child in me, lost the freedom of the heart, the freedom of the ones who love without the stupidity of grownups, and the memory of that drawing disappeared from my mind, but most of all from my life. I'd miserably pass by the days, miserably argue and let myself consume by guilt or reason and burn myself anyway.
But today, maybe because the sun was shining blue with beautifully carved clouds in the horizon... maybe one of the clouds looked like Asterix and the memory came back.
Now, now I hope that every time an argument grays my days, little whiner come by my mind and will make me smile!

Platonic passions or the fear or being really in love

There's a certain "je ne sais quois" in the emptiness of heart, in the fulfillment of platonic feelings and no strings holding us back. It is so much easier when one can love freely without thinking too much, without the constant constrictions of cultural boundaries and behavioral rules. Love, open hearted and free minded is just such a gift and at the same time such a curse to be trapped in a vicious cycle of platonic passions and surreal dreams of perfection and happiness and impossible lives.
Some days it is all about sunshines and bright light in someone's eyes; a beautiful smile at the cafeteria, a sweet aroma on the skin of a beautiful girl coming in the elevator... Some day it's all about perfection: no commitment, no expectations, no restrains.
Other days I actually get a chance to speak, am obliged to speak, interact. Those are the days when the perfection is destroyed, and the dreams start approaching reality, scaring the shit out of me. Because one thing is to dream about a perfect love with a perfect stranger, love at first sight. Another thing is to actually start realizing that that person you saw in the elevator is friend of a friend and in 5 minutes will be sitting at your table, throwing her hand at you with a name and "pleasure to meet you!". The impossible dream is now one step closer to reality and sometimes reality can be very scary.
So between good and bad days, between perfection and fear of reality, sometimes a true, unexpected love comes along, kicking you to outer space, uncertain of reality and dreams. And that's when you forget it all, dig head first and just hope for the best!

Inspiration

There are good days, bad days, lots of ugly days. And that is life to you, and me, and everyone I am pleased to know and share a little bit more than just existence and survival.

But there days, days a bit like today when it's not too warm or too cold, the sky is blue with clouds here and there and the sun just shines. An in these days you come shining and smiling and I can't help but feel lucky and blessed and inspired. And inspired as I am and feel I just write, endless words of joy, sometimes sadness (because life is made of both), but most important of all I write again. I let my finger move as freely as my mind, I dream with my fingertips and my ears and my whole body and soul. I dream dreams so big that they barely fit inside of me, and I write, put them in pen and paper, in virtual pen and paper, so they can grow. And dreams are like children, we put the effort and pleasure to create them, we put blood sweat and tears to keep them alive and well... we put all we are and have (sometimes even what we don't have) to make them grow, to see them make people smile, and for as much as we want them close and warm, soon they gain a life of their own, sometimes they gain wings and fly away, sometimes they become strangers and fade away. But nonetheless I dream, every time as if it was the first, dream big and crazy. And when you inspire me, the way you just did today... then I dream more and more and more, I overdose in dreams and hopes and smiles...
And these are the days when living is Living and smiling is Smiling, and life is so worth living...

Hereby I declare

It's not what you are but who you are
And sooner or later reality strikes back
I can't live with you
But can't call life
To this surviving of mine without you by my side

Like chaos has order
Our love has our hate
But sometimes in the cloudy days
The fog disturbs our thinking
Rationality becomes no more than a word
And reality a living hell

But like after every storm
The sun will always dare to shine
The sky washes the gray away
Shining blue, lightning your smile

And a day is not a day
If your smile doesn't shine
And the night is just time
When your warmth is away

So I dare to say and feel
So many things, so beautiful
But that's the only way to live
Love, hate and tears

Tears

I once said tears are never wasted, tear are never dropped in vain. Am I changing my mind? Of course not.
If you tear it's because it hurts, and if it hurts then it's because inside of you was a true, beautiful feeling. And that feeling is often so rare that when you do feel it you should do everything you can to make it last forever. And in a way it does last forever. Even if now and then you tear there are always memories of those beautiful feelings you can't forget and those are the moments that, when the bitterness goes away, stay stuck to your mind and will make you smile.
One day, one day the sun will rise from dawn and a smile will be in your face... one day...

Those same old songs

I wander the streets with music in my ears. I listen to songs and I just can't, can't stop the memories from blooming. Can't stop remembering, when maybe I should forget. Should I? Should I forget the smile and the bright eyes, and the bright in your eyes? I could I, how can one forget the glance of perfection with the superficiality of any other random glance?

But there is always something, there is always something triggering the memories, something sparking the feelings and then is just the same old story... but a story I just can't stop living...
A song, a verse, an image, a ray of light, anything helps to make me live, anything helps to keep me alive, anything for a dream...
Those same old songs bring back those same old feelings... even new songs can bring back old feelings... but are the feelings that old?