Explorando amor ...

Mesmerizada por tus líneas de risa,
Tu topografia
Absorbo con placer y sin prisa.

Con cada gesto me invitas
A conocer a tu paleta de luz y sombra,

Con sus matices infinitas. 

No hay ni fin ni inicio -
Crear términos, rutas, hitos

Es un artificio.

Tu toque en el momento me atteriza.

Como el océano cálido

Con gentileza me tranquiliza.

Podemos caminar juntos,
Recibir y explorar el mundo,

Puedo ofrecerte un amor sin fondo.

Podemos caminar solos,
Podemos tener la vida
Con la infinidad de tonos.

La alegría de vivir con su potencia
Me permite sentir a cada frequência.
Multiplica mi fuerza,

Aumenta la sensación
De la abrumadora riqueza
De la existencia.

Soy un viajero feliz en mi presente
Y esta tierra exuberante, nueva

Exploro con la entrega inocente. 

Explorando amor

Mesmerizada por tus líneas de risa,
Tu topografia
Absorbo con placer y sin prisa.

Con cada gesto me invitas
A conocer a tu paleta de luz y sombra,

Con sus matices infinitas. 

No hay ni fin ni inicio -
Crear términos, rutas, hitos, expectativas

Es un artificio.

Tu toque me tranquiliza.

Me envuelve en un océano cálido.

En el momento me atteriza
Con un abrazo plácido.

Podemos caminar juntos,
Recibir y explorar el mundo,

Puedo ofrecerte un amor sin fondo.

Podemos caminar solos,
Podemos tener la vida
Con cualquieres tonos.

La libertad de elegir,
De creer, crear,
De abrir o cerrar
Es la realidad de estar. 

La alegría de vivir con su potencia
Me permite sentir a cada frequência.
Multiplica mi fuerza,

Aumenta la sensación
De la abrumadora riqueza
De la existencia.

Soy un viajero feliz en mi presente
Y esta tierra exuberante, nueva

Exploro con la entrega inocente. 

El viejo reflejo

Nunca estoy molesta contigo.
Porque?
Sería como estar molesta por una imagen
De un amigo.
De mi misma. Una imagen que se desvaneció,
Una foto antigua.

La reconozco bien.
Todas las características son mías.
Los ojos traviesos sonríen
Pero la esencia ha cambiado
Hace años, no días.

Tanto que mirar a esta imagen
Ahora me deja perpleja.
Las indiscreciones libres, salvajes
Mi pasado destaca.

La consumidora necesidad de sentir,
Destrairse, tocar y conquistar.
Las palabras que dejaba salir
Llenas de significado que tanto queria criar
Y que con mis acciones me permitía borrar.

Como tus palabras que salen de tí
Por tu boca o por escrito.
Parece tan bonito el mito
De intensidad de sentimiento...
Luego tus acciones por completo
Lo hacen obsoleto.

Me reconozco en tí.
Por isto nunca estoy molesta contigo.
Aprendo de mi, de mi pasado.
No tengo ni amigo ni enemigo
En esta imágen.
Solo el aprendizaje con el cual me obligo.

Ya no estoy esta imágen.
Busco la unión auténtica
De la palabra y la acción poética.

Sharing

Sharing is an art. It, like art, requires certain recklessness,

Boldness, a fearless sprint off the cliff.

We go on dates, we talk to others on the street,

We smile and nod, and utter words, as if

They matter. What we want

Is to expose a little bit of our soul.

But we don’t know to whom. So we fill the air

With words. To make us whole.

We want to share.

But what we do instead is produce little puffs of air,

To fill the spaces in between us.

Temporary daze, like a glass of rich red wine.

We jog, we work, we shop, we dine,

We do things in a crowd because it feels better

Than being alone. We wish for the divine.

Sometimes we stop and wonder why,

Sometimes we do something and try

To change the habit of getting nowhere,

Of pushing air between each other,

And say something to make it easier to bear

Our loneliness and fear

Of being eternally forlorn, afraid to love,

Afraid to feel, not capable to open to the possibility

Of being hurt, of playing the roulette,

Of taking the chance to avoid sterility

Of daily interactions, and having something,

Someone or someones that make us set

Upon letting go, letting things flow,

Allowing them in, and letting ourselves share.

Our pain, our joy, our less-than-bright moments,

Trust just enough to relax, stop being aware
Of every thought, judgement and care.
To feel, all to the brim - to dare.

Read me

My skin is hungry for touch,

Slow, deliberate, thoughtful

Fingers running over the smoothness,

Over the birthmarks, over each crease.

Study me, like a traveler unfolding a map

Tracing the paths to the destinations

Unknown. Inspire yourself in the details,
The journey has no end...

Feel the heat - my body still,
anticipating with a breathless tremble

Your fingers fluttering, brushing over me,

Reading me like Braille.

Rewire for fulfillment

 The first pages of "Wired to Create" are already a permission to be myself. A dissection of a Canadian rapper that I've never heard of (not surprising, since the world has an overwhelming number of successful and inspiring people, and sometimes I choose simply to ignore that to avoid feeling the pressure of tardy self-realization) gave me a warm feeling of instant assurance of what I've been struggling to understand, analyze and accept in myself for years. He is a happy example of contradictions of personality, loner and attention whore, fond of flings while strongly capable to long-term relationships, etc. People like that exist. They are not unicorns.

There is a tribe. The tribe where some are more adapted to embrace what they are without judgement, immersing themselves in whatever process they choose to, thus unequivocally arriving to results, practicing like a religion self-realization. Others try to fight, adjust, blend in, question endlessly - to become hopelessly frustrated and start losing the light that their opposing forces spark in them.

I am not alone. This simple confirmation found on a pages of a book brings tears to my eyes. Tears of gratitude and relief. A permission to be myself - plentifully contradictory and gloriously inspired.
I am seemingly unproductive sets of oxymoron - the more I tried to make sense and compartmentalize, the less constructive it became. The more anxious and guilty I felt to be inefficiently multifaceted, adamantly and at times fleetingly interested in everything,

I am the whole spectrum. Instead of forcing Big Radical Clarities that are supposed to shine on my path, I accept my Small Unsettled Clarities, however temporary and temperamental they may be. Like rambunctious children that I care for deeply, I round them up and hug them tightly.

This year, I've been extremely fond of the idea of experimenting things for 1 month. It is a perfect combination of freedom and direction. I choose to accept myself fully and gently, for one month. Stop requiring answers, unwavering resolutions and definitions. Give the analytical, ruthlessly disciplinary brain a break, and channel all that energy in playfulness, joy and exploration. I choose not to judge my unprocessed process.

Amazing things happen when we admit to what we are. Amazing things happen when we find that we're not alone.

Believe

look at people
study them
observe

freckles, wrinkles, grey hairs
carefully combed or painted
makeup, layers of it,
whether it's Loreal or thick masks
of pilled on smiles and glazed eyes

look through it,
stare daringly,
until something appears beyond the transformations
applied to ourselves

something may appear,
but don't count on it

look, until the other cannot and does not blink away
until something appears
until the eye's engaged,
beyond it something timid,
timid and naked

No more safety of blinking away,
a connection,
no more blinking disguises

connection is made
is it made?
you question it, question yourself and the other

fleeting
you feel it, fully, and it's gone
so you pragmatically asign it
to imagination

it's gone, after a day or a year,
but it is
why?
you mourn it,
you kick and scream like a temperamental child
or hide away, shutting everything out

and when it's done, gone,
so completely that you wonder
about your judgement

when it's gone
believe
there it was there
truly and really
for some time it was there,
time is irrelevant

believe in it
like a child in Santa Claus

undoubting, unwavering faith
that something is real,
was or is -
the tense is irrelevant,
like wordplay

doesn't change a thing

no analysis, no judgement, no second thought
let it run through you, whatever moment
you may have felt,
wash you free of cinicism
and of the fear
of being naive

no one is here to judge you for that
no one in the world cares

how you are, what and why you are
no one has the time to

so admit it, that you like being hopeful to a folly
and blissfully blind
that you will persist
and believe each time
you feel something

a beginning

play of words

curiosity

tension, of giving me what I need
providing what I naturally crave
and withdrawing at just the right moment

keeping the engine running
the spirit engaged

the mind wondering
hope stilled

all senses alert

Analysis: States of Flow and Neurotransmitters

Flow

The key is to apply the ideas behind the research on states of flow to the personal life and projects. These are the 17 flow triggers, as explained by Steven Kotler. My task shall be to create these triggers, or attempt to as closely as possible, by consiously accessing my current situation - social, personal and work environments. Some will be easier than others, but practice and awareness should help. For the factors outside of my control, I will try to enter into situations and environments that emiliate these triggers - invite them in. 

Internal strategies to draw attention into the present moment:

• Intensely Focused Attention – One of the primary purposes of flow state is to help you focus on a particular task, however, to hack into the flow state in the first place, you must be in a position that allows you to strongly focus your attention to your goals. This also means, multi-tasking is out. Flow demands singular and solitude actio 

• Clear Goals – When you have clear goals, your mind doesn’t have to wonder what to do next. You know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Also, don’t focus on the finish line, focus on running the race, the NOW, the present moment. Many are getting distracted by their past, future, or self. Focus on the clarity of your goals. It gives you certainty. 

• Immediate Feedback – This trigger is a partner of clear goals. Clear goals tells us what we’re doing, immediate feedback tells us how to do it better. If we know how to improve performance in real time, the mind doesn’t go off in search of clues for betterment. The Challenge/Skill Ratio – You may have heard about the concept of stress curve where there is a scale of low stress and low performance. At the other end, is the high stress and low performance but in the middle of the scale is the optimal level of stress correlating to peak performance. The Flow Challenge/Skill ratio exists near (but not on) the midline between boredom and anxiety. We need a progressive balance between boredom and anxiety or tension and relaxation. If you can keep yourself in that sweet spot, then you can drive attention into the present and maximize the amount of flow in your sports career.

Environmental triggers:

• High Consequences – If your neck is on the line then you are driven into the zone. An athlete, big wave surfer for example, may need to drop into a 50 foot wave to pull this trigger. But the shy guys may only need to cross the room and speak to an attractive woman to pull this trigger. This doesn’t always mean physical danger, this can also be emotional, mental and social risk. You must be willing to take risks. It’s that sense of adventure and potential for failure that will drive you. 

• Rich Environment – This means an environment with lots of novelty, unpredictability and complexity. Novelty means surrounding yourself with a rich environment that involves finding things that will catch and keep your attention. Unpredictability means being able to step outside your comfort zone and facing the unknown. While complexity means increasing the depth and breadth of your knowledge by seeking out information from many different sources or view points.

• Deep Embodiment – This means total physical awareness. When you can harness the power of your whole body paying attention to the task at hand, you will feel unstoppable. This also means paying attention to multiple sensory streams at once. Not only our 5 senses but also our proprioception and vestibular awareness. 

Creativity flow:

• Pattern Recognition – the brain’s ability to break down existing patterns, colors, data, shapes, movements, sounds, concepts, successes, risks, failures, etc., and create new ideas using those patterns by linking new ideas, and

• Risk-Taking – the courage to bring those new ideas into the world. Will the new concept be well received or will it be scanned? All creativity requires an element of risk and courage.

Group flow:

• Serious Concentration – In extreme sports for example, concentration is highly required or injury or even death could happen. You need to be aware of your teammates and opponents. If they lose focus and start thinking about what it is for dinner, or other things, they’ll quickly be overrun. It can also help to ensure that everyone has their maximum attention to the here and now. Blocking off other distractions. 

• Shared, Clear Goals – Groups need to be clear about what their collective goal is in order for the flow state to be achieved. Group flow is a progressive balancing act. Creating a goal that provides enough focus so each team member can tell when they are close to a solution, but one that is open enough for creativity to exist. 

• Good Communication – A group flow needs constant communication. Conversation must flow forward. Listen closely on what being said, accept it, and build upon it. Nothing blocks flow more than ignoring or negating a group member. 

• Familiarity – A sports team may compose of a group with different languages, cultures and belief but everyone needs to be familiar with each other. Everyone needs to share a common language, a shared knowledge base and communication style based on unspoken understandings. There must be unity, in thoughts and in action. Everyone must be on the same page, and, when novel insights arise, momentum is not lost due to the need for lengthy explanation. 

• Equal Participation and Skill Level – When you have a team with equal role in the project, flow is most likely to happen in your group. Teamwork is the key, and everyone must be involved. All members should have similar skill levels. 

• Risk – It applies to groups in the same way that it applies to individuals. When there is an element of risk, people are more motivated to work hard, and make things happen. Without challenges, the tasks may appear boring. There’s also no creativity without failure, and there’s no group flow without the risk of failure. This risk can’t be just physical, it also applies to mental, creative, etc.

• Sense of Control – It’s important to combine autonomy (being free to do what you want) with competence (being good at what you do) in group flow. Whatever the sports situation you are in, getting to choose your own challenges and having the necessary skills to surmount them is beneficial. 

• Close Listening – When you are listening closely to the present conversation, your responses will flow, and conversation will progress naturally. Innovation shouldn’t be blocked in a group flow. But if one or more team members are talking simultaneously, you keep yourselves away from listening to what is really said and working from there. 

• Always Say Yes – Now, don’t mistake this for always saying yes to everything. This means that interactions should be additive more than argumentative. This element is about being open to try new things, even if they sound like a bad idea. All input into the group should be additive, not negative. The goal is the momentum, togetherness, and innovation that comes from intensifying each other’s ideas and actions.

Neurotransmitters and diet:

DOPAMINE: Drive and focus leading to motivation

• Tyrosine can be found in most animal food products. Other foods that increase dopamine include avocado, green leafy vegetables, apples, beets, chocolate, oatmeal, nuts, and seeds.

• Coffee and green tea increase dopamine. Coffee consumption can inhibit other neurotransmitters so the use should be moderate

• Acetyl-l-tyrosine, a highly absorbable form of tyrosine that readily crosses the blood-brain barrier into the brain. 

• Citicoline, curcumin, Mucuna pruriens (velvet bean or cowhage), phosphatidylserine, and Ginkgo biloba.

• Physical activity and especially meditation help

• And since dopamine is released when you accomplish a goal, taking on new challenges helps raise dopamine levels - thus breaking down your long-range plans into short-term goals.

SEROTONIN: happiness

• Tryptophan is available in protein rich foods, such as eggs. Best strategy: each protein rich foods, then eat carbs alone to release the substance. Before sleep, eat small carbs, clean and not too fatty. 

• Supplements that can assist include SAM-e, B complex vitamins, l-theanine, omega-3 essential fatty acids, magnesium and the adaptogenic herb Rhodiola rosea.

Acetylcholine: memory and learning

• Eggs, eggs, eggs

• Other supplements that naturally increase acetylcholine levels are huperzine-A, derived from Chinese club moss, and galantamine, derived from the snowdrop flower.

GABA: Relaxation

• Bananas, broccoli, brown rice, citrus fruit, fish, lentils, nuts, oats, organ meats, spinach, and whole grains are among the best foods for increasing GABA.

• Taurine, the amino acid precursor of GABA that also activates GABA receptors in the brain.

• Other GABA-boosting supplements include magnesium, l-theanine, and kava.

• All kinds of exercise can increase GABA, but yoga stands out

OXYTOCIN: love drug

• released during sex, breast-feeding

• easiest way to raise it is by receiving hugs (or having sex, if the option is available!)

• physical touch, connected eye-contact

Experiment: flow + growth + fulfillment

Many times I have heard "Change your thoughts and you will change your life" statement. Before I processed and internalized it, it was a little more than sounds put together into a coherent phrase.

Since turning 30, I've been feeling the pressure to have the vision of my life fast-forwarded into my present. Fun and games can certainly (should!) continue into my deep adulthood, but it is time to put all the acquired self-knowledge and all the experience together and make things happen. Faster, better, and with the meaning and significance that makes life worth living.

I shall commence a little experiment of self-improvement, based on some ideas and research. I will be my own guinea pig, and I will do what I struggle to do in my daily life - follow through consistently and record data. Since this project is for self-improvement, the means to realize it shall become embedded into this goal.

The idea is simple. For 30 days (arbitrary, I know - but we are accustomed to calendars; I break with the convention by starting it on the 15th of the month), I will employ various techniques outlined below, and record (somewhat subjectively, since there is no good way to measure this in a more scientific fashoin) in the following list daily results.

Techniques to improve the brain fuction through addressing neurotransmitters and through bettering learning tactics, to induce the state of flow (mental, physical, social), and to create more mental/spiritual/physical balance:

• Dietary (including elements for better neurotransmitter funcion, better sleep pattern, cleaner and more efficient system)
• Psychological and spiritual (meditation, nightly mantra, morning power poses and mirror exercises)
• Physical maintenance and challenges
• Disciplinary: new habits and new skills

Daily I will measure the following with a basic scale from 1 to 5:

• MOOD
• SLEEP
• ANXIETY LEVEL
• PRODUCTIVITY
• MOTIVATION
• ENERGY LEVEL
• MEMORY & CONCENTRATION
• LEARNING & EFFECTIVENESS
• PHYSICAL PERFORMANCE
• PAIN
• CREATIVITY

Chivalry is Dead

Grand! Epic! And dramatic!
Drumroll please, dim the lights because the show's about to begin.
Big phrases followed by bigger gestures, all to entice and inspire.
Forgotten concepts like chivalry, romantic sacrifice, rock-solid principles,
Words given to be upheld, not dispersed,
Startling courage and unwavering beliefs.
It's all on the screen. Mesmerizing, drawing you in.
Wrtitten and produced by masterful manipulators of the human mind.
All this can exist in your transient reality of snap judgments,
Endless doubts and fearful actions bound to confusion and the all-powerful king,
Instinct of Self Preservation.
Who would die for their love? Who'd jump in front of a bullet?
Who'd put their word and honour above all?

The screen hypnotizes, luring to believe that Big Love and Big Gestures
Can happen to you...
Is it a kind delusion, put over you like bubble wrap?
Is it alike Chinese torture, drop by drop stamping your brain and imagination
Sheep going off the cliff
Mad men fully committed to their madness
Chasing Honour, Love, Faith

Chivalry is dead. And love's just a word.

Seven Commandments

Don't weight your words

So carefully that they remain unsaid, unexpressed, unfelt,

In the wasteland of unrealized desires and missed chances.  

Strut your stuff

Like a middle-aged voluptuous Cuban goddess

Passing like a proud vessel down the street,

The sea of gazes part before her. 

Care, a little or a lot

Don't let things slip into oblivion 

because it's too much effort otherwise.

Expose yourself

Guarding whatever you have to give

Will wither you to a dried up fruit

That never had the fortune to be tasted. 

Allow your blood to boil 

Move, jump, kick and dance,

React to the flesh that excites and inspires,

To the proximity of hot skin and burning breath. 

Change something, anything

Yourself, the world, to any degree you can,

For the better. Or at least try. 

Fuck being careful

Risks measured on a balance sheet

Will make you plump and limp

Before your time. 

Your Eyes

I'm fascinated by your eyes.

Transparent deep grayish-green

Almond-shaped, traced lightly 

By full chocolate-cream lashes. 

You observe the world discreetly

With the ever-present shades on.

As the frame is raised up,

Secured in your wild tousled curls,

I'm arrested on the spot

By the strength of your gaze,

Open and direct, wisely naive. 

You take the world in,

Reflecting back a version beautified. 

More plentiful and vibrant,

Adding charm to the objects once mundane,

And interactions once dull. 

As intense endless blends of espresso 

Are created from simple beans,

Your glance transforms all into magic. 

Ode ao Vento

Na beira do penhasco,

De braços abertos, acolhendo o vento

Que sopra forte, obstinado e determinado.

Leve-me, purifica-me, salve-me,

Enxugue os pensamentos, delete as preocupações.

Mostra-me a tua força, seja implacável e feroz,

Me assole para me liberar. 

Tears

The eyes burn, worse than standing over the hot coils

Of a campfire, with the thick smoke rising up.

I fight for control, a battle to prove my strength to myself.

No one likes cry-babies.

And no one respects the weak.

One sob escapes, and like a house made of straw

Blown down by the big bad wolf,

I crumble to the cool wooden floor.

Eradicated by the dull pain,

The hot heavy turbid suffocating substance

That breaks out with a loud exhale that verges on a cry for help,

Directed at no one.

The tears stream down, a broken water tap,

Until I gasp for breath shakily, relieved by the flow.

There is no sadness – just an overbearing need to let go.

To release.

To detach from adjectives –

“weak”, “pathetic”, “lost”...

A tropical storm rages until the land is raped

And exhausted. But cleansed.

Ready to be new again.

The tears pour out until I stretch out on the floor,

Blissfully wiped out. Gratefully empty.

Absolved. 

Sem título

Um bolo feito de farinha e sal, mel e vinagre, caramelo e pimenta.

A mistura incongruente da minha rotina

Faz-me sorrir triste e suspirar com resignação esperançosa.

Tempo acrescenta camadas, me endurecendo contra minha vontade.

Inevitável.

Como os anéis vistos no corte de um tronco de árvore,

Revelando a sua idade.

Em princípio, eu posso correr para a floresta,

Dançar enlouquecidamente em torno de uma fogueira,

Cantando a plenos pulmões para que o frustração desapareça.

(Ah, daria tudo por uma voz forte e vibrante da Mariza).

Eu posso viver a vida de um sonho,

Cercada apenas por ar e luz, música e arte,

Amor e liberdade.

A tela do computador sorri para mim,

Incrédula com estas palavras digitadas em sua superfície.

O mundo é feito de paredes, agendas, listas,

Notas fiscais, recibos, contratos, memorandos,

Todos mesclados no tecido de

Ordem Nítido das 24 Horas dos Sete Dias de semana.

Eu tenho duas escolhas: me rebelar e mandar tudo para o inferno,

Pagando as consequências da tentativa vã

De me libertar.

Ou cantar. Tão bem como consigo. Sem querer ser uma musa, uma Mariza, uma Celine Dion.

E brincar nas ondas, deixando as águas quentes

Envolver meu corpo nu, me renovando outra vez.

E saltar em uma pilha de folhas caídas.

Fazer desenhos na areia do devaneio mais recente.

Tanto faz se eles desaparecerem com a próxima onda.

Eu sempre posso criar de novo. 

Without a title

A cake made of flour and salt, honey and vinegar, caramel and ginger.

An incongruent mix of my routine

Makes me smile with a shrug and sigh with hopeful resignation.

Time adds layers, weathering me against my will.

Inevitable like the rings seen at the cut of a tree trunk,

Giving away its age.

In principle, I can run into the woods,

Dance wildly around a campfire,

Singing at the top of my lungs to let the flustration out.

(Oh what I would give for a strong vibrant voice of Mariza).

I can live the life of a dream,

Surrounded only by air and light, music and art,

Love and liberty.

The computer screen smirks at me,

Incredulous at these words typed on its surface.

The world is made of walls, schedules, lists,

Receipts, bills, contracts, memos,

All weaved into the fabric of the neat

Order of the 24 hours of the 7-day weeks.

I have two choices: rebel and send it all to hell,

Paying the consequences of the vain attempt

To break free.

Or sing. The best I can. And play in the waves, letting the warm waters

Carress my naked body, making me new again.

And jump into a pile of fallen leaves.

Make sketches in the sand of the most recent daydream.

So what if it disappears with the next wave.

I can always make another. 

stripper

she slides onto the stage, stilettos on the mirror surface,
and the men gasp audibly, even the regulars pause with the drinks suspended midway.
something about her curves, her matte skin glistening in the spotlight,
sculptured firm legs, legs of a Persian race horse,
ending in two round semi-moons that make mouths salivate from the desire to bite.
a sheer black robe covers her from the hungry impatient eyes -
just enough to fuse into the fantasies already formed in their minds,
and a few hands involuntarily reach for the crotch -
this Bianca, Rosanna, Lola or Kanisha, whatever her name may be,
is making even the elite clientele forget themselves and act like mortal men.
for the moment, they are all engaged, this is no longer just a background
for their meetings, deals and rendezvous'.

she turns to the pole, calves tense, head bent slightly to the left,
the smallest move is orchestrated to highlight
each sensual inch of her dark body.
the soft lounge beat suddently picks up the pace,
in one effortless leap her legs are wrapped around the pole.
men groan, now reaching for the wallet as well,
knowing the etiquette and the unspoken rules.
in a few minutes they will have their only chance
to outbid each other, getting those legs to tightly wind around their waist.

her robe slides off, bronze moist skin shimmers
as she bends, lifts herself up, legs dancing in the air.
she looks back at her audience, a small smile
playing on the corner of her full lips,
painted in deep purple.
the lights dim.
the lace bra is last to come off.
she bends backwards from the pole,
offering the sight
of her perfect breasts
and long graceful neck,
jet black hair
cascading down to the stage.

Oráculo de Delfos

Sou Poder personificada.
Me chamam do instrumento de Apolo,
O veículo de comunicação divina.
Reis, sacerdotes e guerreiros
Absorvem cada palavra
Que eu profiro no transe sagrado.
O que eu falo eles obedecem.
Minha vida existe entre as aspas -
Sou a lingua da boca muda.
Uma corda do violino
Manipulada por uma mão hábil.

Prezados Estrabão e Plutarco,
Como os senhores estão errados!
As palavras são todas minhas.
O pneuma não tem nada fazer
Com o que eu falo.
Pago o preço, em abstinência e em jejum,
Para mandar o mundo
Fazer o que quiser.
Todos vão realizar a minha vontade.
Pago o preço para ser Apola.

Alice and Galvin

I come downstairs. I heard sounds in the basement, and my heart is racing from the excitement of possibly seeing Galvin there. He hasn’t come for a while, but I thought he would make an appearance today, for my twelfth birthday. I wipe the blood off my wrists on the pajama bottoms. I don’t want to worry him too much, but I do want him to see the cuts. They’re not very deep, but the two red streams running down my arms are starting to drip off the fingers.

“Tell me, why do I do these things to myself?”

Galvin smiles knowingly, “Because you need something to be strong enough to shake you out of whatever prison you’ve created for yourself.”

“Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I need these extremes?” I sniffle. “I can’t take it anymore.”

His eyes squint, looking at the pools of blood. He doesn’t seem overly concerned. “You can stop this at any time you choose to,” he replies. “You obviously are enjoying it too much for now.”

I shake my head, enraged now at his patronizing answers. “You don’t get it.” I want to stomp my foot, have a little tantrum. “I don’t want this, and I’m trying to stop these patterns. I want to be a normal human being, emotionally attached to other human beings. I can’t seem to find solace in anyone.”

“Why are you seeking it in someone?” I think he’s trying to be difficult, asking these Oracle-like questions. “You’re enough, don’t you think? Anything you need is always within your reach. What makes you feel whole?”

“I like to write,” I say after a short pause, “and dance. I love to dance. Letters calm me down, and dancing makes me feel connected to everything. Without questions.” For a moment, I’m lost in my thoughts. I’m thinking about the beat of the drum and the feeling of sand rolling between my toes as I dance. It’s soft and malleable, supportive and unstable all at once.

He shrugs, as if this conversation is getting redundant. “Well, then, dance and write. What else do you want from me?”

I glare at him, sorry now that I started this conversation in the first place. I wasn’t looking for sympathy, but what’s wrong with needing a shoulder to lean on every once in a while? “Nothing.” I grab my blanket off the couch where he’s sitting, and head for the door. I feel silly for being here. For saying what I’ve already said. Why did I drop my guard? “I’m sorry that I interrupted. You don’t owe me anything, and you’re right. I should solve my problems on my own.”

“Now, don’t get your panties in a knot,” he chuckles, leaning back and smiling that arrogant smile that makes me want to hit him and kiss him. “I am trying to help, it’s just I have my unconventional methods.” His face turns serious, “You should just do what makes you happy. That’s the basic recipe for being happy, I think.”

“I try, but sometimes I do the complete opposite. It’s as if I become someone else’s marionette, my legs and arms not my own,” I’m starting to gesticulate because I can’t find the right words to make him see. “Instead of going to a school dance, I sit at home and stuff my face. I know for a fact that my body will get heavy, and my spirits will be lower. But I still do it. As if I have no will of my own.” The napkin that I was holding to the wounds drops to the floor, and I sink down beside it. I don’t want to appear vulnerable, but I’m so damn tired of pretending. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

“I could have told you that ages ago,” he smirks, his eyes warming up. “Hey, it’ll be OK. It’ll pass, and you’ll learn to get better at it. It’s a phase.”

“Really?” I want to believe him so desperately. What I want most of all is to believe that he’s not a figment of my imagination. I open my mouth, but chicken out and say instead, “When? I feel that I’m stuck in a vicious circle. I keep doing the same things, as if I’m not learning anything with age." I want him to realize that he's speaking with an adult now. I'm not a little girl believing in unicorns and Santa Claus anymore, I'm twelve.

“It’s all part of it. It will make you a better writer. Because deep down, you know that’s what you are.”

I hold my breath, and stare at him. The sinking feeling in my stomach usually means that something hit home. I get enough courage to ask, “Do you really exist?”

He spreads out his arms, palms up as if he’s about to take a bow onstage, “What do you think? No, the important question is, does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” I burst out. Because that would mean I’m not crazy. And I’m not alone.

“Then I exist. But maybe not just yet.” He looks at my confused face, and adds, “I will, in another form. You won’t be alone in this forever.” He gets up and leans over me, his face so close to mine that I can smell his warm breath. “Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll be alright, I promise.”

I reach out to touch his arm, and his shape dissipates under my fingers. I can still feel his presence, and I pick up the blanket to leave the room feeling calmer than I have been in a long time.