Let me know about Santa...

I was thinking a lot these days (I’m always thinking a lot…), and not because it’s Christmas and all of that… It’s because of people (like always…).

Why we celebrate Christmas after all? Shouldn’t be because Jesus was born and to celebrate life, love, and all these things? Well, if we have a religion (catholic one), we should be celebrating that – Jesus was born.

If we don’t have a catholic religion, and we celebrate Christmas any way, probably we should celebrate a time of love or something like that.

Are we doing that? Really???

I only see people worried about the gifts that they should be buying, the food that they should cook, etc. etc. etc.

What are we celebrating, after all? Maybe we are celebrating our shopping ability or something similar as far as I see… Maybe our ability to expend money and show how much money we did during the year…

Maybe I’m getting old, too old to be quiet and sweet about all these muss that we do, when I think (and I must say that I think a lot, for bad and for good) that in the middle of all this economic  crises, all this Christmas lights and shine gifts papers and ribbons are taking too much space, in a place that should be more love and peace instead gifts and coins.

What is Christmas for these days?

Do we need a day to celebrate love, peace or the birth of Jesus? Shouldn’t be all days this celebration?

Maybe we should declare a war day, and in that day we all can fight, buy gifts, spend tons of money and so on, and keep all the other days to celebrate life, a real life, a life made with small moments of peace, love, simple things, hugs, laughs, happiness.

It’s strange that we need a day to celebrate things that we should be living every day, our time with family and friends, our ability to share and be grateful for everything that we have.

Yeah… thinking a bit more about us and the way that we live our lives these days, in fact we really need a day to remember all this… or we will never get all this back, neither for a day.

É preciso dizer

É preciso dizer

É preciso dizer que eu não sei... tenho agora talvez mais respostas do que perguntas, e ainda não sei...

Não sei como ou qual será o amanhã, de onde ele virá ou como terminará.

Não sei sequer sobre o que eu vejo, o que me parece as vezes tão cruel ou superficial... quem sou eu afinal para saber? Eu não sei...

Não sei sobre qual essa força tamanha que impulsiona as pessoas a quererem mais, ter mais, quando parecem não querer a consciência de que estão a tirar de alguém... será que não sabem?

Não sei sobre esse mundo, esse mundo que não é outro além de um que nós próprios criamos, escolhemos e permanecemos a escolher dia após dia... eu não sei...

Não sei sobre o amor ao próximo, que parece trancafiado em caixas de televisão, onde fica fácil ter-se compaixão pelo sofrimento que só de longe e superficialmente assistimos.

Não sei sobre as escolhas do dia a dia, aquelas escolhas pequeninas, que preferimos não dar atenção, importância ou dar nossa consciência, quando escolhemos passar alheios pelas ruas sem ver o sofrimento nos olhos que cruzam os nossos tantas e tantas vezes por dia... eu não sei...

Não sei por que tanto estranham o facto de eu sorrir. Não deveria eu sorrir, tendo eu tão menos problemas do que aqueles que não comem, que não tem abrigo ou calor, que podem nem mesmo ter saúde, amigos, ou alguma esperança no amanhã? Eu não sei... eu não compreendo...

Não compreendo a ganância, quando alguém ao nosso lado pode precisar de algo mais do que nós.

Não compreendo mais a gula, quando alguém tem o estômago a doer com fome. Não compreendo carros de luxo, quando para alguém falta cadeira de rodas. Não compreendo jóias, ostentação, roupas de marca, sapatos... quando para alguém falta calor, falta alegria, falta conversa, falta compreensão... eu não sei...

Não sei como pode valer mais uma coisa do que um abraço, um olá, um carinho... eu não sei...

Não sei quais são essas escolhas que estamos a fazer todos os dias, dia após dia, a esperar por milagres, por resultados diferentes quando nós mantemos as mesmas atitudes... Como somos capazes de ainda ter esperança no milagre, se o milagre somos nós e nós escolhemos não fazê-lo?

"To go doesn't mean to arrive. Just mean go longer"

Turning Another Page

Turning another page...

How many pages have the book of our lives?

Nobody knows how long we will live, until we find out a lethal disease or face the dead. But some people live like if all the pages from they’re book are equal, never turning pages, trying to keep the same lines and the same paragraphs as long as possible. How good or how bad is that?

It’s impossible to say which book in the world is the best, some will like ones more than others; some will choose one or another. If we know enough about ourselves we at least will be able to choose what kind of book will be better to us.

I learned what kind of book I like and I’m still learning what kind of book I want to build with the pages of my life. I know by now that I always need to turn pages, create new chapters, and explore all the possibilities around me.

Let’s say that by know I am ready to try a new way to write, maybe a way a big more scary and unknown to me. For many and many years I used to think that I need to feel myself safe and protected, that I need something planed in advance, I used to think that I was able to plan my future and guess what will be the next pages in my life. Now I know this is impossible, at least to me, at least to the kind of book that I want to build with my life.

Why should I pretend that I want a solid work, when all that I want for work is to write? Why should I pretend happiness when people that work with me tells me how responsible and professional I am, when all that I want it’s to write?

I never could make money writing. But I never stopped to write, some kind of passion and hope always shine in my heart enough to make me write every time that I could and when I can. I don’t want or hope to achieve anything writing, just maybe something enough to make me survive – for how many pages I don’t know. (Does anyone know for how many pages will live?)

My English is not good enough to allow me write everything that I want in English. My free time and conditions now doesn’t allow me to write even in Portuguese as much as like to. And I don’t know why today I made this decision, but it’s a decision made. I will write as soon as my job here ends.

Doesn’t matter if I will be writing for everyone or anyone, I will write because of me, because of all these thoughts and these words inside me, screaming to be shared.

Came to me today the idea to count with me and my capacities, take a train by myself to Spain of further than that and give myself some time to write, to scream, to live what is already alive inside me.

How I will survive I don’t know, I tried to find jobs and works with no success, my contract will end, my biologist profession is already far behind me, but I will try to write these new pages to my life, and maybe a new chapter and book will be born.

There is no future. There is only the choices that you do today - you are building your tomorrow right now.

Just for a walk...

I don’t know what about you, but I came just for a walk

I came to life for a walk, a nice one. I don’t want to care too much about the shit that system wants to make me swallow, it is not my shit, and it was not my choice.

My choice is different – I came here for a nice walk, for some good time with real people, people that I love to meet during my walk here, sharing with me some troths and some good times. Of course that in this walk of mine, I’ll do my best to help and care about people – to get more and more good times with them and let them have their good times during their walks as well.

I’ll also do my best to improve my walk around here, and in every way possible, improve the walk to the ones walking close to me.

Don’t try to make me buy the shit that there’s no meaning at all to this walk of us. You don’t need any money or any possessions to have a nice walk, it is enough if you know you will have something to drink, to eat, a safe place to rest and the cold will not beat you. Everything more than that, it is luck, is just to make the walk even better.

I came here just for a walk. And maybe I am a very silly person, ´cause I used to thing everyone here in this planet and in this time, came for the same reason… just for a walk… Are you enjoying your walk?

Running Away

For a long time I carried with me the doubt that maybe all my motivations exists because I was fleeing from something. Now I realize that there was reason to this doubt.

I took great and difficult decisions, chosen tortuous and uncertain paths, I took chances and risks to loose all that I had to "hear" the certainty from my heart. And yes, I was running.

Running away from everything that is not worth it, running away from what is superfluous, illusion, unreal. Escape from what is materialism, which is systemic and soulless, running away from what does not make sense, what is not love and sharing, gratitude and affection. Escape what is addiction, what is abuse, which is a lie. Escape from what is worthless, that adds nothing to the heart and life, the evolution and love. 

I am not the money that I make, I'm not the things I buy, I'm not the clothes I wear, the way I look and I'm neither the house where I live. I'm not the work I do, the job I have, the bag that I carry.

The paths and choices that I took, I took on behalf of something greater for me - what I am and what I can be. Something that can not be negotiated, not exchange, not for sale. I "Lost" everything to "gain" myself – How much more I need to "lose", how much more I need to "escape"? As much is required. Always.

Enough

I’ve seen too much, too many views, too many places. I’ve seen too much to feel peace when I hear a baby cry, lovers fight, someone alone just die.

I’ve seen too much to still believe we are naturally good, or naturally friendly, or naturally honest. We won’t. We are exactly what we choose to be, and just a few (very few) of us try they’re best.

I’ve seen too much to use an excuse to be apart from the pain of the world or of the people. I’ve seen too much to use an excuse and pretend that I’m not part of this world that we are living. I am – for the good and for the bad.

I’ve seen to much and now I can’t pretend anymore that my feet doesn’t hurt, that my heart isn’t broken, that my soul are still pure.

I’ve seen too much to choose get my eyes closed. I can’t, I’ve seen too much…

I’ve seen too much views and too much places to be able to feel myself at home. I don’t want that anymore. For now, I’ll be glad to bury the bad and feel the good, I hope this come soon.