Wednesday, November 29, 2006
This wasn't the means I would've liked to have used to respond. However I believe in replying by the same source and so we publicly voice what we don't personally tell each other.
Thank-You for writing for me in my language. It's not that I'm not capable of understanding what you had written had it been it Portuguese. It's not that I don't understand your language. My difficulty isn't in the translation, my difficulty lies in understanding the meaning behind the words. English is so much more direct… or maybe all that lies in the author's intentions?!
I was happy to read that you're doing great, that you're living as opposed to merely surviving and that you've made progress over this last year.
It's been a difficult year for most of us.
But if you truly took the time to get to know yourself, to know what you want and what to fight for then you've accomplished what on a daily basis a lot of people fail to do.
“To know others is wisdom, to know thyself is enlightenment” – Chinese proverb.
I'm only sorry that you consider yourself to have found your limits. Forgive me if I don't believe in limits… not onto you.
The extraordinary things in life are accomplishing those things we thought not possible. The things which began as a dream.
Don't limit yourself my friend; you have the capacity for so much more.
“The limits are within the mind and not the muscle” – Alexander Popov (Run a search, it's worth the read)
You called me kid.
You're right; I have faith in things that grown-ups eventually give up on.
Love… Life… a Family….
Did it ever occur to you that somewhere along the line, I too have reached the bottom of the pit? Perhaps even more than once?
That I've hurt… that I've despaired and gave up on breathing?
What if I told you that I know what it is to see the world through grey scales, to eat food with no flavour, to hear no other sound but the “Fado” and call all of that my reality.
And if somewhere along the way, I realized that there's more to living than merely surviving?
That love exists around me and that as long as I bear the ability to love someone, then my dreams are as attainable as anyone else's.
There are days I want to throw in the towel, give up on my dreams, it's so much easier to quit and justify it with all the dreams not yet accomplished.
But that's what they are… they're not yet accomplished and as long as I live, I have those dreams to believe in. Otherwise, we have very little to get up in the morning for.
Are our dreams so different?
I also want to be a parent… I have an immense amount of love with which I would like to lavish children with. And not just any children… my children.
I want to enfold my own in my arms and love them like only a mother knows how. To guide them, teach them and give them the home I wish I'd had.
This isn't a solo goal, it takes the right partner to accomplish such a dream and without that… the above has no meaning… in fact, without the right partner, very few dreams bear meaning.
I have many other goals and dreams to accomplish but this is the one I pray makes me stay… the reason to stop packing, to stop moving and to build on something special.
“Just because someone doesn't feel for you the way you feel for them doesn't mean they don't already feel for you with all their heart”
Truth hurts doesn't it?
Would it make you feel better if I told you that this particular truth has hurt me more than once, and continues hurting me presently?
In the past, I chose to protect a person's heart at all cost. Presently I've learnt that there's nothing like the blunt and honest truth to help a person move on.
Would you believe that deep down, I'm truly sorry that you aren't the one.
If you were, both of us would have happier things to write about.
Deep down, you have to know that I'm not the one for you.
I believe you'll make an enviable partner and a great father someday. I'm hoping that you'll include me in your life as a bystander… a friend.
Because I still am your friend and I never stopped being your friend.
I never turned by back on you – that was your choice.
We'll be friends until the day you choose for us not to be; that will not be my decision.
I believe that your true Nemesis is the dreams that you deny. Everyone searches for happiness and you're right, happiness is not a constant emotion; it's made up of moments.
Only when you look back, can you say you were happy.
Haven't you ever found that without even knowing it, you were living the happiest moments of your life? It gives you a lot of think of when you consider your present.
So maybe I'm a kid, to believe in love and faith and happiness…
For all those highs, there are consequent lows but I know one thing for sure… each time my heart chooses to believe, I'm blessed with those smirks that you call happy moments.
Those don't happen much when you play defense.
I don't believe happiness is found when you achieve everything you aspire… you're right, very few people would be considered happy.
I believe happiness is found where love is found and that takes different forms for different people.
I consider myself to be a happy person but I'll be happiest the day from which I look beside me and see my partner for life. The one that bears witness to a life we choose to live together. The one that will embrace our children with the same amount of love that I do. Someday when I tell you about my adventures, I hope there to be someone beside me to say “I was there, I saw it and I love her for that and all of it”
Once again I ask you… are our dreams so different that you once may have thought that I didn't understand you?
There's so much more I'd like to tell you, but not on a stage… you know where to find me the day you decide you want to hear what I've got to say.
Here's to you… Here’s to your Friday evening thoughts, may your Nemesis bear no strength over you.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Being opinionated and self-spoken, I usually have no trouble expressing what is on my mind… the gift is such that I had to install a three second delay word processor to scan my thoughts before I blurt them out loud.
I mean what I say and I say what I mean and I stand by my opinions…
But with you… The words get stuck in my throat.
I dare not speak them… lest they come out all wrong.
And I'm left with that sensation of something important left unsaid.
Can’t you hear my heart beating when I'm silent?
Can't you hear the words that I don't say?
I constantly fight the urge to take you by the hand and take you someplace where I lose my sanity and return to you every emotion you stir in me in a kiss.
You're driving me crazy!
Am I reading the signs all wrong?
The more I try to ignore them, the more they plague me.
I seem to be running in circles… every road I take brings me back to you.
So what do I do?
I'll stay… I'll surrender… if only you’d ask me to.
Today I heard your song…
It replayed in my head until I thought I'd lose my mind.
I thought I heard you…
I thought I felt you…
Are you feeling what I'm feeling?
Or is that look in your eyes a figment of my imagination?
I'm losing trust in my instincts…
I need to hear the words…
The required time that I pray to be alone with you…
For that one moment that either gives us the certainty…
Or shatters a dream.
For you, I've already walked over the “nevers”
For you, I'm willing to give it my heart.
On my way to work this week, I saw one of those scenes that you only expect to see in the movies…
Right outside Telepizza, a couple was arguing about something or other with very little importance. How do I know it was of little importance?
Because just before I passed them, the guy grabbed the girl by the elbows and ended the argument with a kiss.
I was so flabbergasted that instead of continuing on my way, I actually stopped to stare.
Somewhere in their thirties, they weren’t exactly bickering teenagers still learning about love and relationships...
As they pulled away from the kiss, they both smiled at each other and she put her arms around him as if to say “You're right, this isn't worth arguing over”
Shocked… Amazed… and deliriously happy that there's still magic in the love that people feel for one another, I couldn't help but be influenced from positive vibes that radiated from them.
Fighting the temptation to interrupt and ask the guy if he had a younger brother; getting bumped by an umbrella reminded me that I was clogging traffic and so I made my way through to work with a smile on my face.
There's still hope!
There are days I lose faith…
Days in which nothing makes sense; and I can't catch the signs that tells me that everything is going to be okay.
Nights in which I long for that warm body to fill that empty space in my bed.
I find myself alone and scared, wondering if all my hopes are nothing more than figments of a fertile imagination.
Wondering why I still haven't found what I'm looking for… or why it hasn't found me.
I search my heart for insurance and it gives me none… only that faint hope that refuses to die and makes a believer out of me.
Love is so scarce these days; it's hard to find anyone who still believes.
Anyone who will fight for it;
And keep it from slipping away.
I want to let go… Live without it.
But something stronger and wiser than me holds on.
It's that voice from inside that reminds me that it's the one true reason worth living for.
On the days that I think I've given up…
Strangers remind me that I'm still a believer.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
What you see above took ninety minutes and 48metres of aluminium foil.
I call it a welcome-back, missed-you-like-crazy, damn-what-took-you-so-long way of telling a colleague her absence was felt!
When you live a life where you're stuck eight hours a day with the same people, they tend to grow on you. So much so that when they're on vacation, you feel like something really important is missing.
Working the nightshift implies that after 19pm, I have only one person to keep my company through the night. Having that person gone for a month has proved to be tedious as well as lonesome, I can't wait to see her back!
Usually she's the one with all the brilliant ideas and tricks to welcome back those who went on holiday… I reckon she deserved nothing less than a big welcome herself!
It didn't take me long to think up what to do, although this punishment itself was meant for pink-silicon-polka-dot-fingers (LONG story… whole different post!)
And don't think that's the only idea I came up with… I had a couple more that involved post-its, graffiti, confetti, streamers and toilet paper: that's not even starting on themes!
Before falling asleep, I thought of a thousand different ways I could've done her desk and I couldn't help laughing at my fertile imagination.
I recently read a blog about the brain, its capacity to invent, solve and memorize… Often I surprise myself with my own thoughts and imagination…
I'll tell you one thing though! The proof of God's wisdom is the fact that he made our thoughts to be silent! I reckon that if people knew what I'm really thinking of half the time, I'd be in for A LOT of trouble, hehehe.
To this date, there's only been one person to contradict me. I recall distinctly my shock as he looked at me straight in the eyes and said “if some people knew what was going on in the other person's mind, they'd probably fall in love”
At first I thought he was kidding… then I thought he was nuts… now I realize he was absolutely right, although the opposite could also be true.
I prefer his more positive perspective.
Have you ever had a first impression of someone alter dramatically once you've figured out what goes on in their minds?
There's only one way to know though… people need to communicate.
Having completely gone off topic, I return to the Silva-Wrap revenge to conclude but one thing:
The time, effort and attention you invest in someone is directly proportional to how much you care. I know I'm probably going to regret this when I get back from Christmas vacation but one thing is for certain, getting in a little earlier today will be worth the look on her face!!!
Saturday, November 18, 2006
In the last week alone, the visits to my blog have doubled?!!
With more people reading, I'm well aware that I should be more careful with what I write… My concern is such that I confess that I thought twice about writing this entry (once about writing it and another time about what picture to add to it)
Basic Instinct… Too.
Who hasn't yet seen the movie? I've yet to meet a male who doesn't know the whole cross legged scene by Sharon Stone. In fact, try reminding a guy of it… instant drool appears as they replay the whole scene in their heads… at least twice!
And speaking of two's… Today I caught up with my movie trivia and the choice of the evening was: Basic Instinct 2.
I don't know who wrote or who directed the movie but whoever did is nothing short of genius. The psychological suspense is grueling. It will leave you with some serious trust issues and a deep desire to either kill someone or have wild sex.
Who killed who? Was it the Cop? Was it the Journalist or was it the Shrink? One thing is for sure: They all had sex with the blonde Novelist. And not just regular sex; the heated, thrilling, exciting… dangerous kind.
Recently I read on someone's blog that the misconception that you can't make love and have sex with the same person, still exists.
What?! You're kidding me right?!
No wonder people get bored with each other… they're always going about it at the same speed!
The way I see it sometimes you put your soul into it and others you put in your hormonal drive and sometimes you can even mix the two.
Creativity is the name of the game, when two people love and trust each other why not take each other to the limits?
I took note of one particular scene in the movie for future reference:
The guy had the girl from behind and at one point, one hand moved from her hip to her head. He first caressed her cheek just before tugging at her hair and pulling her towards him with his other arm which had slid under her breasts.
This is one of those: you-really-should-try-this-at-home stunts.
Last week as I had lunch with a good friend of mine we swapped notes on this particular subject. Some ideas merely involved props: food, toys, lingerie… the accessories. Others involved more acrobatic positions.
He explained to me that in one in particular, her knees are either placed by her ears or on his shoulders allowing for a much deeper penetration and closer interaction.
Hmmm… I can think of a couple more variations to that one…
Sometimes you take it slow…
Other times you pick up speed…
It's a question of the mood and not the person you with.
One night I'm on top, next night you can be on top…
Or better yet… we wrestle for it!
Let's try something lacy… something silky… something soft.
Something red… something white… something black.
The way I see it, there are more uses to scarves than having them around your neck.
When you have someone that you love and trust, then there shouldn't be any reason why you can't give life to your fantasies.
There are many ways to dish out rejection. For someone who doesn't want to hurt another person, it isn't an easy task. So we develop mechanisms, tricks and manipulative techniques to let another person down easy without them even realizing they're hearing the big “NO”
Over the years, I've become so good at it… so good that the other party thinks that they're doing me a favour by “letting me go”.
Until today I was convinced that I was the Queen of Rejection, imagine my surprise to discover that someone else does it better than I do!!!
It takes one to know one… I couldn't help but smile as I recognized some of the techniques I've used myself.
Had it been a live show, I would've applauded and the only reason I didn't congratulate the person is because I would've broken down the whole act.
It's really not that hard… first you adopt the see no evil, hear no evil, read no evil concept. That way, what they thought you might've understood, really was supposed to pass you by.
Then you reassure the person that nothing's changed and that everything it has always been, that way they don't feel the weight of having to explain anything to you.
If things get tough, you make sure that you remind them that they can do so much better than you.
Eventually they give up and you're off Scott free.
They can send you a thank-you note when they marry the person of their dreams.
If things happen exactly the way they're supposed to… and you know it… why do they still have the capacity to leave you miserable?
I'm all in favour of preserving people's feelings but there are days I dispense the diplomacy and the “nice” way about it.
Annoyed with myself.
Friday, November 17, 2006
When my brother was born, I imagined myself in the big sister role… first changing his nappy, then defending him against bullies and then one day teaching him about girls.
I still recall the day he smsed me asking me the mechanics of kissing a girl…
At first I jumped off my chair and literally had a fit in trying to figure out how it is that an eleven year old was considering swapping saliva with a girl!!!
I then remember than my first kiss was at ten and decided to calm down. I thanked my lucky stars that he hadn't been present to see my first reaction and decided to deal with the whole novelty with maturity and prudence that a sister should have.
Deciding that perhaps he would feel less comfortable if I called him up, I smsed him back and suggested that he practiced on his hand.
Satisfied with my response, I decided that perhaps being a big sister wasn't all that hard after all… until he smsed me back and asked when the tongue comes in!
After going different shades of red and pulling over a dozen hairs out my head, I finally found the serenity to advise him to take things naturally and let it slip in only when it felt right. Of course I gave him all those useful tips like: don't slobber, don't force, don't exaggerate on movements… right after I knocked my head on the wall a couple of times in imagining my little brother at the beginning life's most complicated discoveries: the opposite sex! At twenty four, I still haven't figured it all out and the way I see it… I was happier when I knew little or nothing about it! Sometimes, I still feel clueless!
I was pretty chuffed when he let me know a couple of days later that the whole tongue thing wasn't very attractive to him… YET… Hehehe, he’ll surely see it differently later in life.
I pride myself in the fact that I've always tried to teach my little brother in how to handle the ladies. Considering his youth, it might be a fruitless thing to do – the kind of thing that goes in the one ear and out the other. However I hold the hope that one or two important things will stick, the kind that will help to understand his woman one day and avoid unnecessary heart ache. Some things I could see he understood, others he simply ignored or took for granted… unfortunately dancing resulted in more bruised toes then successful moves (Although I haven't given up hope on his two left feet yet). During most of the time, I've always felt that he merely listened with the disinterest of a child that hasn't felt his heart beat faster at the sight of a particular skirt.
Eventually it would happen, although I can't say I was prepared considering he blurted it out while we were talking about our dogs. My little baby has fallen for a girl and from the way he tells me things, the feeling has gone beyond the regular crush.
What happened?!! The last time I asked him about a girlfriend he proudly told me that he didn't want to be a bus statistic from girls at his school that compare how many boyfriends each has had… and now suddenly I find out he's been harbouring a soft spot for a particular girl for months!
I ignored the hurt feeling that he's kept the secret from me for so long and decided to give him the best advice possible. I discovered that my little brother is a hopeless romantic that is afraid to show emotion and hasn't the courage to own up to it… In other words: He takes after me!
Damnit! He was supposed to inherit all the good genes! And I don't mean just the good looks and fabulous body; I mean… he wasn't supposed to be softie…
Suddenly guilt kicks in and I wonder if all the secrets I've taught him about the opposite sex hasn't made too much of a good guy out of him…
After two hours of talk my little brother graced me with the best kind of reward a sister can get: a heartfelt thank-you and a I love you.
I however was left with that sinking feeling of someone who knows what kind of road softies travel and the heartbreak that goes with it – I really don't want that for my brother but I can't choose his road for him. I can only be there for him when he falls.
Why did boet also have to be a softie?!
A year ago, someone looked me in the eyes and told me that I was the kind of person that fell fast and hard. I got so angry with the statement that I wanted to throw him out the window.
Partly because I didn't want to accept that like that, partly because I know that I am.
It's hard to catch a heart like mine, but once it's caught – I'm caught hook, line and sinker! I've realized with time that I don't have much choice in the matter but I do have the power to decide what to do with it… if only that were an easy decision! Luckily I've become really good at keeping it in a box.
This year, it occurred to me that it takes one to know one… and that the person only accused me of what he recognizes in himself.
It occurs to me that my little brother is growing up. That he's far more mature than I'd like him to be and that from now on there are things in the world I can't protect him from.
I'm proud of him; I know he's got what it takes to survive… My only prayer is that his soft heart doesn't suffer as much as mine did.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
We Arians rarely find ourselves backed to a corner.
We know what we want and we have what it takes to go after it.
But every now and then, something happens that wasn't in the plans and suddenly you find yourself up at five in the morning contemplating the very complex question that ever so often creeps into a person's mind:
“Now what do I do?!!!”
Just when you think you know where you're going, the winds of changes throw you off your feet and land you on the other side of the world, disorientating your whole voyage.
It's not like you can easily get back on track…
You first have to discover where you stand before you can decide where to go.
Things get even messier when you realize that where you were going isn't where you want to be anymore.
There are decisions that simply can't be made by flipping a coin.
So now what?!
Sitting at the crossroads I contemplated all those philosophies that I once held strong and one day decided to walk right over…
I hated when dad would say “Never say Never”
He obviously didn't understand my perseverance and determination… or how stubborn I am… but he did know one thing…
There are boundaries that you set for yourself that one day you'll right walk over.
Most boundaries I only tiptoed over, but there were others I trampled right through!
Remembering all the past rules that were broken, I couldn't help but smile…
There are things I'll never do again, there are memories I'll keep forever.
Know the rules well in order to know how and when to break them.
For the right reasons… there are rules worth breaking.
You know you're going to be okay when a smile comes easy, when there's a tune playing in the back of your head and you've once again fallen into the habit of talking to yourself.
You know that life has taken you exactly where you should be, when you find yourself sitting on a curb in the middle of the night, drenched from the rain and laughing on the phone with your best friend about things you'll probably be crying about later.
I don't know where the hell I am or where the hell I'm going but I do know…
I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
Sitting at the crossroads I contemplate the question that's bothered mankind before even Christ was born:
Maybe if I say loud enough, the answer will come to me.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
I didn´t get any sleep.
I opened my eyes this morning to the warm sunshine pouring through my window but inside my blanket, I was cold. I was empty.
I stopped crying sometime in the middle of the night, but I haven´t been able to stop the tears from running down face. In the back of my head a slow song by Metallica numbs my heart and takes me back to past Chapters.
This morning, I´m once again the Unforgiven.
Everything comes to an end.
I´m not quite sure exactly when you and I saw our end, but paging through your wedding photos, the knowledge that it could´ve lasted longer tears away at me.
If only we´d been less stubborn,
If only we´d bee less proud,
If only we´d had more faith,
If only we´d talked.
Would things have been different?
Life has a way of working out exactly as it should.
I have no doubt in my mind that you married the right girl.
But I can´t help the empty feeling caused when I think about how differently things could´ve been both of our attitudes and decisions had been different.
I guess we truly did need to be older…
I remembered everything last night…
The first day we met, I was five and you were seven… I was sad and you did everything to make me smile., including irritating the living daylights out of me.
Chappies… lummies… trips to the Pick ´n Pay… rollerskates… pillow fights… hot summers and countless hours in the pool.
Wrestling… I knew that I could never beat your physical strength but that never seemed to stop me from trying.
You gave a different meaning to the Word: “Mercy”
There were days I hated you and even on those days; I admired you, looked up to you more than anyone else I knew
God, I wish we´d talked.
I played the songs that remind me of you and recalled the intense moments that will follow me always…
Dunking me in the pool, I fought you the whole week! But on that last evening as we were both getting out the pool, you surprised me by asking me if you could dunk me again… I was tempted to tell you to go to hell.
Maybe it was the way the moon reflected on the water or perhaps it was the way you you looked at me, all I know is that I didn´t fight you.
I put my arms around you as you pulled me under the water… I think we both lost count of how many times we dunked.
That first kiss! – I hadn´t seen that one coming!
I only threatened it because I thought you´d let me free…
I hadn´t counted on the challenge in your eyes,
My lips were only meant to graze yours, so that you knew I meant business…
I didn´t expect that kind of response…
You kissed me with such force and hunger,
My knees went weak, my head began spinning around and if I wasn´t pinned to the cupboard I would´ve slipped through your arms to the floor.
You had strong arms, you didn´t let me fall… I wish we´d held on longer.
My biggest surprise was the reactions you provoked.
I met your heated kiss with my own and shocked myself with my own reactions.
I had no clue how intense things could get.
Till this day, no one´s pushed me further.
God I wish we´d talked.
The photographs are beautiful, though i´d pictured them a little different when I was younger. I know that fate couldn´t have been more right.
I wish you all the love and happiness that I always dreamt for you, even though i´m not the one standing in the picture with you.
Destiny couldn´t have been more right to have written the story as it did. I wish I could´ve told you that in person, it´s just another one of those things we´ll never get to say to each other. Another of those things you´ll never know.
Not everything comes to an end… something´s stay with us always. It´s the good moments I plan to keep in my memory for lonely days like this one.
May your love and happiness see no end.
And may both our dreams be fulfilled with the right person.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
“Como vês, não sou mulher de ignorar um desafio… por isso considera este texto a tua prenda de natal antecipada e uma resposta ao teu desafio. Espero bem que tenho estado altura das tuas expectativas…”
PS. Tuga é aquele que se vê nas minhas palavras... este post foi pensado no plural e não para uma pessoa em particular.
E se eu senta-se no teu colo e abraçava-te?
E se eu te fizesse cócegas?
Se eu apenas sorri-se e te disse-se que te adoro?
Ai que transtorno iria te causar!
Tu que não dás ponto sem nó, tu que procuras perceber todos os motivos e razões de ser. Será que algum dia serás capaz de entender o gesto por o que ele é…
Um simples gesto… um mero gesto
De uma pessoa que gosta de outra e lhe apeteceu exprimir o sentimento.
Tadinho do Tuga…
Que foi criado para sobreviver o mundo calculista…
Que sabe que existe uma intenção por de trás de cada acção…
Que entra em cada situação de pé atrás…
Que foi programado para controlar tudo e todos á sua volta...
Beneficio da dúvida?
Isso é para os iludidos!... Aqueles que ainda não bateram vezes suficientes com a cabeça contra a realidade fria e dura para aprenderem que o mundo não é um sitio simpático.
Ai se te esforçasses tanto quanto reclamas!
Tu cansas-me com o teu desgaste de energia desnecessária
Tudo tem que ter motivo…
Tudo tem que ter justificação…
Tudo tem que ter melhor forma de fazer…
Contigo, até respirar tem técnica!
Questionas tudo... pensas demais… falas muito… acreditas pouco.
Ai se eu te pudesse libertar!
Se apenas confiasses em mim…
Soltava-te dos pormenores e voltavas a ver, viver, sentir e amar com o coração de criança…
Sem medos, e com vontade de rir, sorrir e viver!
Passavas a ver o melhor das pessoas…
O melhor da vida…
O melhor de ti…
E ao dar oportunidade aos outros…
Mil oportunidades… e as que forem precisas.
Olhas para mim desconfiado…
À primeira achavas-me iludida… ingénua... criança…
Mas algo dentro de ti fala;
Uma voz que conheces vagamente… há tanto tempo que já não a ouves.
As minhas palavras parecem ter algum sentido…
Mas não somam certo!
Não tens a fórmula certa para experimentares estas sugestões...
A tua capacidade de análise não abrange esta lógica.
Não foram assim que te ensinaram!
Sou um perigo… é melhor ficares longe,
Arriscas-te a começar acreditar em histórias que contam ás crianças.
Tadinho do Tuga…
Eu sei que te baralho…
Tu também baralhas-me a mim.
Tento ser como tu no teu mundo, mas sempre que tento, sou infeliz.
Somos criaturas diferentes tu e eu…
Temos muito que aprender um com o outro.
Se pelo menos me amostrasses a tua forma de amar…
Terás interessado em conhecer a minha?
Tu que és egocêntrico e convencido, imagino que acredites que a tua maneira é a melhor e mais correcta!
Que surpresa era a tua de conseguires adormecer nos meus braços sem que os teus pensamentos habituais de perturbam. Puder te entregar sem medos... sem receios...
Será que a nossa forma de exprimir carinho difere tanto?
Será que o meu toque te provocava um sentimento que nunca experimentastes?
Que o meu beijo seja de um sabor diferente aos que já conheces?
Ou será que tudo isso tem mesmo língua universal?
Tuga… tu falas demais.
Não tens a coragem das tuas convicções
E não lutas por aquilo que mais queres da vida.
Acredito em ti.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Picture by Emil Schildt
I'm not Madeiran…. And yet I am.
I'm not Portuguese…. And yet I am.
I'm without a doubt, an immigrant.
There are a lot of things the heart doesn't know and should.
One of them is that it's physically impossible to be in two places at the same time. Perhaps if the soul knew this, it wouldn't be so divided when the heart decides to belong in two places.
If home is where the heart is then I'm a citizen of the world…
I belong here, there and nowhere.
I wouldn't say I'm lost, but neither am I found.
It's a constant nagging of the spirit that reminds you that something’s missing; that tells you that you're not where you're supposed to be.
But if you ask your heart where it wants to be, it gives you more than one destination including the place you find yourself in presently.
A Jamaican in New York?
If you want to feel like an alien, try being a South African in Portugal. Or even a Portuguese in South Africa. You'll find that in whichever country you may be in, it's your latter roots that speak to you the strongest.
Wherever you are, your heart pulls to wherever you were and you find yourself only at peace in the belly of an airplane.
Because up in the air, you're neither here nor there… you're in between.
Exactly five years after leaving the country where I'd been raised and educated, I went back. Four weeks… the time given to get reacquainted with my past and to analyze my present. It's been a month since I've been back from South Africa, and I still feel out of place… As if the shoes I wear aren't mine.
As if I am an imposter in my own body.
In South Africa, I looked in the mirror and was Portuguese.
In Portugal, I look in the mirror and I'm South African.
It's the constant pull of a heritage you're not quite sure is yours. The minute you identify more with the one, an inner voice accuses you of betraying the other.
I woke up this morning with the anxiety felt when late for school. Did I remember to iron my shirts for work? Did I fall asleep while I was studying? I have to recheck to see if I have a spare toner in the cupboard….
My head lifts itself off the pillow in an attempt to make sense out of things.
Where am I?
As the images around me come into focus, I notice that it's still dark and that the patterns on my sheets aren't familiar… or are they?
A few more seconds and it hit me… I'm neither in South Africa nor Madeira.
I'm in Lisbon.
Truth is, I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad about it.
During the day, I tell myself to focus more on my grammar in order to improve the Portuguese level I need for varsity. At night, I scold myself for not immediately remembering the English translation for some or other particular word. I panic on catching myself thinking in Portuguese and it breaks my heart that all my brilliant results in the English language have gone to waste.
My South African upbringing tells me to walk into every situation giving the benefit of the doubt, my Portuguese experience tells me to walk into things with one foot back…
It's not wonder, sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy.
I have my Portuguese friends… I have my South African friends…
They don't mix.
It's not a form of racism, they simply don't identify with each other and I identify with both… or do I?
I don't allow my surroundings to influence or dictate my personality.
And yet… lately I ask myself… who is it that I want to be?
If I already am the person I want to be, where do I fit in?
Perhaps I'm not meant to…
Being an immigrant is a culture all on its own.
It implies to live with the longing… of never truly fitting in.
The mind is never at peace when the heart longs for it's other half.
I was challenged to write a post in Portuguese. The challenged part of me wants to try, yet the other half reminds me that this blog was created to honour my “native” language. The language I was educated in, the language in which I think in and the language I don’t want to forget. I've never written a post in Portuguese nor do I have the desire to maintain two separate blogs… I'll have to think about it.
There are days, where the longing is so desperate that it drives me insane and then there are others where I near forget about it.
One a day I nearly went mad, I was grateful for the comfort of a friend that said “You're literally a teammate” it made me realize that I do belong in somewhere, somehow.
As long as I'm this or that, I'm not all things.
Divided, am I still a whole person.
I am who am I am and make no apologies for I wouldn't want to be anyone else.
I may not fit completely in anywhere,
But as long as I'm not defined, it means I can't be catalogued or copied.
I'm comforted by the fact, that I'll always be the person I want to be.
If that makes me the odd one out, it also means I'm an original.
Those that truly care about me know that what makes me deep down who I truly am isn't defined by time, place, distance, age, language or culture…. Those are just the surrounding pieces to the heart of the puzzle.