Uninspired

An empty page.
It stares at me… I stare at it.
The ink in my pen is ready,
My hands await instructions to print the words that await creation inside of my head.

But I can’t find it… I’m uninspired.

Maybe I’m trying too hard… perhaps there is too little…
My mind wanders to places I can’t describe in words…
And writes the scripts I cannot read.

I wish the man in the grey jacket would stop and look at me before rushing to catch his train. Maybe he could tell me a story that I could write about…
Would he share with me the person he is and the places he’s seen –
Perhaps he’d take me there…
Perhaps he’d take me with him…

Empty.
I tire of avoiding the subjects that whisper in the back of my mind.
The ones thrown into the garbage of the thoughts to be forgotten…
I’m exhausted by the forceful programming of my mind to see the things that I should see; the thoughts that I should ponder and the things I should write about.

In the things I should think and explore – I find nothing.
Nothing that inspires me to write more than this page that I’ve seemed to fill with useless words that hold no beginning, ending or conclusions to a story that does not belong to me and I know not how to tell…
Nonsense understood only by a frustrated soul on the verge of losing control of the mind.

Where is that magic that colours the pictures in my life?
That gives meaning to the moments and definition to the words that create the sentences of a story worth reading – a story worth writing about.

Lost.
Somewhere in the thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking of.

The Perfect Saturday

A drive through the old part of Lisbon reminded me of the charm that had attracted me to it.
The small roads, the wooden doors and the washing hanging to dry that represented homes to the poorer of Lisbon’s children.
Urban decay also holds its charm and perhaps my fascination with it is somewhere between the parallel lines where irony sits.
Out of the corner of my eye, the sunshine bounced colours off a white curtained window – it was postcard perfect.

The road was accompanied by trees rather than the tall buildings I’m getting used to and for a moment the vast space reminded me of the dying town I once belonged to in another time; another continent.
When my thoughts finally returned to the present, I was standing at the border of a calm beach which God must’ve created on his most inspired of days, a scenery only described by the emotion felt by those who have seen it.
Yellow sand and a tiny pier romanticize a beautiful beach in Sesimbra.
The fisherman and his son who fit the picture so perfectly almost seemed as if they had been conjured by a storyteller.
And as I sat on a rock only millimetres away from the water; I pictured myself as a mermaid who had come up for air when the density of the water had gotten too thick to breathe.
The water that eventually reached my pants and jacket pulled me back to reality and reminded me that it was time to go.

Arrábida.
I was told about the foxes and the hares and the various species of spiders that inhabited what looked like an enchanted forest that had conquered me on sight. Its mystical energies silenced my soul in appreciation an I realised that it would take a lifetime to get to know it.
My heart sighed in mild melancholy sadness as I was reminded of similar places that I knew all too well from the island where I came from and somehow in silence, the surroundings of this place understood me.

When I thought it couldn’t get any better, I was taken down an old stairway that led down to the most beautiful cave I ever saw!
Inside was an ancient altar and a secret entrance that only the waves entered. They greeted me with a breath of salt and the warmth of the winter sunlight.
Beautiful – cannot begin to describe what my eyes witnessed and I wandered what the cave walls could tell me should they ever speak their secrets.

Perfect view – from any angle whichever way you saw it, it could only be described as flawless – pure perfection of God’s imagination.

Perhaps it was the long walk along the beach; the sound of the seagulls calling my name or the sight of my reflection upon crystal blue-green waters that had me enchanted into believing that somewhere on my flu-sick bed, I laid dreaming.
Perhaps it was too perfect, too beautiful, too unbelievable.
I stared at a canopy of shade made by trees who conspired with lovers to hide them from the world in a picnic made for two and wondered when I’d wake up…

The perfect day is spent when you look back and decide that you would change nothing.
The people you saw and the people you met – I would swear I were dreaming if it weren’t for the oranges in the bowl in the kitchen the proved me otherwise.
Lunch in the most charming of roadside family restaurants, where the music playing took me back through high school and old friends. Bon Jovi, Bryan Addams, Metallica…
Nostalgia.
I never imagined myself here… this far… going where I’m going.

Perfect images replay in my head:
A poem by a dead poet that was inscribed on a monument and ended with “all is achievable with love.”
A horizon as far as the eye can see;
A river that ran into an ocean and meandered into a bay…
A convent protected by a forest and
A quarry that plants trees…
Was I abducted by aliens and taken to another planet?
Perhaps I was merely lost in time…

In the castle of Palmela, I let my imagination run free. And even though I was told that there was little or no court in the given castle, I could still imagine life in the ancient rooms, light chasing away the cold and voiced whispering through the walls.
Maybe it was my fever that fired up my imaginations but I would’ve gladly spent the night surrounded by castle walls that even in ruins, stood the test of time.

A stop at a café where cinnamon cookies and lemon tea announced the end of a journey was our last stop before I was taken home.
In awe of all that my eyes had seen, my soul was silenced as I searched for the meaning of life…
A young boy with a diaper tied to his dummy gave me a glimpse of the answer:
We die and then we are reborn, and in all that while – life goes on.

There are days when you’re glad that you got out of bed;
There are days when you can see God’s infinite greatness surrounding you;
And there are days that are almost perfect…

Taking Responsibility

Santa should’ve bought in bulk and put into every Portuguese stocking a copy of Robinson Crusoe!
Those who read it will recall the lesson the hero learnt when he decided that he was going to carve a boat out of a tree and then head for the high sees.
The obstacles in the challenge lied in first chopping down the massive tree, then carving it out and finally in getting the boat into the water.
Our hero developed a plan for the first two obstacles but decided that he would resolve the last problem when he got to it.
After much deliberation he finally got the first two tasks done when he discovered that there was no solution to his third problem: the boat was too massive and too heavy to ever get it to the shore and into the sea.

Nowadays I find that most people are adopting the same attitude that leaves them eventually stranded: "I’ll see when I get there"...
What happened to thinking things out?...
Making plans?...
Making back up plans?...
Things don’t sort themselves out... you have to search and implement solutions for the problems in your life!

I read in the paper that Portuguese people don’t save, taxes went up last year, salaries are stagnant, minimum wages are a disgrace and yet 673 million credit cards were issued last year - an increase of 20%!!!
What are these people thinking? Buying on credit isn’t a free ride... if you don’t have the money in cash to buy things now what makes you think you will have it when the credit card bill comes in?!
Even those items that cost a little more than what you might have available, isn’t it preferable to save and buy it without any future worry (this way you may even get a discount) then having to remember to pay something during 12months that cost you more than the original price thanks to interest rates.

Maybe it’s just me... maybe it’s the "third world" education that I got back in 9th grade that taught me how to budget my life that makes me alien to what my Economics teacher would call irresponsibility and financial suicide... What scares me the most is that people are adopting this attitude in almost every aspect in their lives to avoid responsibility.

Talk to any person... when it comes to relationships, nobody wants to commit anymore. Most of today’s relationships start off with the "colourful friendship" or that fling that somehow carried on for so long that is now regarded as a relationship. Dating is non-committal and not to be considered a sign of interest (consider it more like a practice run) and going steady is unheard of unless you’re either engaged or married.

So maybe I’m old-fashioned but I like to know where I stand with the people around me. I like to know whether the person standing in front of me is my friend who will stick with me through thick and thin and be available when I may need his/her shoulder... or if they’re just someone I greet or have lunch with.
I’d like to know whether the man I share my bed with is the one who wants to build a home, a family and a future with me or if he’s there just to satisfy my sexual desires.
It’s only been five years since I’ve left school but have things changed so much that now there are crash courses on how to avoid responsibility?: If you can’t resolve it, leave it?!!!

Perhaps it’s my character that prohibits me from comprehending the concept of discarding responsibility, or the incompatibility lies somewhere in my perfectionism; whatever the reason, I simply can’t accept:
"We’ll see when we get there..."

Define yourselves!

I’m all in favour of faith but I don’t believe in walking blind by choice.
You’ll never win the lottery if you don’t buy a ticket;
Get an education if you don’t study;
Win a race if you don’t run
Or conquer love if you don’t fight for it...
Trust in God but lock your doors...
Have faith that he will provide food and shelter but don’t turn away the job he gives you in order to provide you with those things.

Take care of yourselves and teach those you love to do the same... remember that when all is gone and taken away, all that you’re left with is yourself.

Sex in the City

My own father gave me advice on how to “catch a man”
He told me:
“Take it from me honey because I too am a man, no man is searching for a commitment. Men just want to have fun. They only want the perks without the relationship. So if it´s a relationship that you want, you first have to give him what he wants and he will commit when he realises that he doesn´t want to lose you. Throw out the bait and reel him in...”

And though Daddy dearest has a point, I´ve chosen to play it like Frank Sinatra – My Way.

Sex in the City is not only for the boys. Women have also come to the conclusion that it is easier to keep and maintain a doll than a relationship.
No strings.
No hassles.
Great Sex... and yes, one might even keep the doll around as long as the maintenance isn´t too high and while nothing better comes along.
After sometime, one might even title their doll as their girl/boyfriend for antiguity´s sake.
But all a doll will ever be is a doll and the most a doll might ever become is the convenient spouse or DNA donor.

Wanting to play the game by the rules, I almost conceded to the “colourful frienship”. Due to the fact that his life was complicated, I would roll with the punches until he was sure that I was worth fighting for. We would would discover our compatibility in bed, tease discretely in the presence of others and eventually he would decide to make more room for me in his life. I´d deal with the excess baggage his life came with – all in the name of love.

No thanks – i´d rather bite off my own arm than be trapped into sacrificing in the name of the love for a man who sacrifices nothing in turn.

If a man can play the field then so can a woman.
I´ve discovered that you need not even touch a man to inflame his desire for you and with very little effort you can have various dangling at your feet.
Why shouldn´t I ? If I can and they´re willing?
I´ve never fooled a man into believing that he will get more than I offer though however much I warn, there are those who slip like some woman two tried playing the game and got too involved.
Because we all get eventually tired of playing with dolls...
And because there isn´t a living soul alive that doesn´t want true love.
Those who seek the pleasure without the pain of love either know not what it is, or are to scared of the pain that comes with it...
Most fall into the latter catagory.

No pain – no Gain. How else will we learn to appreciate something as precious and timeless as love if it never blew up in our faces?

I rediscovered my true worth.
I am not willing to sacrifice my integrity for someone else´s convenience.
A man who wants me in his life will have to know that he wants me and be willing to confront whatever loving me takes.
And if i´m a demanding woman, it is only because I am willing to give all that I ask in return.
I am not afraid of taking the first step but do not count on a second unless you step with me.
Don´t try to fool me – I will play you for a fool.
I don´t play by the rules so those seeking to conquer my heart better risk opening theirs... and guess what... there will always be someone wise enough to take the risk because those wise enough can see what I already know:
I am worth it.

Thanks for the advice Daddy – but I deserve better.

Self Betrayal

To say “no” when I mean “yes”
to say “go away” when I mean “stay”
To run away instead of towards...
It is beyond self-betrayal... it is pure torture.

I turned my back though you were all that I could see in front of me.
Before I even turned around, I had already recognised your touch.
And even though I willed my body to be still in your presence,
I could not prevent it from betraying me as it moved along with yours before I could muster the courage to break away from the dance you tempted me with.

My heart screamt against my desperate attempts to push you away
And wept when I succeeded.
And whilst prudence congratulated me – my heart mourned.

Can´t you see this isn´t a game?
Can´t you tell that it´s over?
There is nothing to salvage, all that is left over is hurt.

Forgive me for my deceitful reactions
Forgive me for my sharp words
None of which came from the heart...
Don´t come close because they are all I can give you.
If you ever cared for me at all,
bless me with your distance.

Ex-Player

He stands erect with a glass in his hands from which he drinks slowly.
Although around him the party is in full swing, his tie and jacket are still in place and he prefers to watch those around him rather than to join in the festivities.
He won´t be around a beautiful woman for longer than a small chit-chat and he allows no person to provoke him into dancing.

Shy guy? - Don´t be fooled, you may be staring at an ex-player.

Inside the tie and jacket is a man of all women who knows only too well how to dance, charm and play the field.
The kind that always played no less than two at a time...
A man who would make James Bond look like an amateur...
And although he may have retired from the game, you will find in his perceptive eyes that it still lives within him.
He may have given it up, but it takes restraint from the temptation of playing again.

I dare to tease..
Not to punish the player, not to torture him...
Just to remind him of who he is and the option he´s made.

I accused him of being stuck up, of no longer being the fun person that he once was.
Grinning, he reminded me that he was no longer free to be that person though I insisted that fun was still possible and faithfull within limits.
He looked away and then a minute later answered with the look of a man who pleeded with me not to tempt him.
Breaking the tension, I noted that he no longer held his glass of gin tonic and he replied defeatingly that the gin had finished at the bar as if i´d lost my weapon to convince him to let loose.

Two minutes later, I put a glass of gin tonic in his hands.
“Resourceful girl that you are!” he said admiringly.
“Not at all, I get everything I want and need with a mere “please” and “thank-you” accompanied with a smile” I replied defiantly.
He must´ve read the honesty in my eyes that let him know that I wasn´t after his heart because three minutes later his tie and jacket were off and we danced much to the horror of the worried glances around us.

As I was spun around on the dancefloor, I caugh the wink of another ex-player who smiled in recognition of my intentions.
I´d be dancing with him next...
But before I once again switched partners, my efforts were rewarded with a “thank-you” in an embrace that told me that he meant it.

As I approached an ex-student who had already learnt the lesson i´d just taught, I couldn´t help but sigh in self-satisfaction of a job well done.
Laughing, he pulled me into a tighter dance than the recommended for an ex-playerand whispered in my ear that I hadn´t lost my touch.
“Don´t you think you´re dancing too close to the edge?” I remarked as he pulled my leg firmly between his.
“No... considering that I know your true identity.” he replied teasingly.
“Which is?”
“Angel undercover. Though i´m guessing that at some point in your life you must´ve been quite a player yourself.”
I laughed at his fishing attempts.
“Perhaps in a previous reincarnation” I replied truthfully
“You must´ve been the Don Juan de Marco”
I smiled at the compliment.
“So what is his story? Recently married?” he asked
“Hopefully in the near future. She was an ex-girlfriend, engaged to be married. He has swapped her for others but woke up when he realised he was about to lose her. Chose his love for her over his player ways and fears falling into temptation.”
“What makes you think he won´t?”
“Same reason I know you won´t – he truly loves her.”
A sensual dance ended with a mutual smile.

We sympathise with the alcoholics who attend parties flowing with drinks and prudently avoid showing them the glass of wine that could cause the downward spiral of their addiction.
I sympathise, admire and respect ex-players.
In fact I sympathise, admire and respect anyone who stays true in the name of love.
However, I believe that all is healthy within it´s limits.

I was once again rewarded with a grateful smile as I watched my latest student leave unaccompanied. I know the freedom and joy his soul felt and that his heart conceded to. And I was happy for the woman he was going home to...Her faith in him is justified.

You Reap What you Sow

You, with your devious eyes...
You, with that deceptive smile...
You, who knows no boundaries to get what you want.
I can see you for who you are.

You measure, plot and plan every move you make
You play those around you like pieces on a chessboard
You who will try to fool your own mother...
I know what you want.

Do you honestly think he will love you after all your manipulation?
What respect can you gain from those you have defeated unmercifully?
Why should the world who any mercy unto you?
I recognise your signature on the unnecesary suffering...

You are the serpent who coils around the pawns you deem useful
You are the proud two-face that keeps her friends close and her enemies closer
No living being will ever take priority above your selfish desires
I figured out how you operate.

I pity the sad character that you are, who now has lost the power to fool me.
I pray for your soul that only knows faithfullness to itself.
I´m sorry, but I give up trying to rescue you, for there is little goodness that wants to be saved.
You, who has no friends – has no need for them.

One day you may even reach your goal.
You might conquer his commitment, have him in your bed, in your life and call him your own.
But you will never conquer the place in his heart that belongs to the true loves that you chased away from his life.
The warmth you seek will never come beyond his body
And you will always find yourself – successfully alone.

Cleaning Out the Closet

I asked my angel for good friends
but he began removing people from my life.
“What are you doing?” I asked tearfully.
“I´m making space for what you asked of me” he replied.

Don´t cry for those who leave your life.
Though no person is irreplaceble, some where only meant to stay with us for as long as it takes to make an impact on our lives.

It is only human to weep for those we lose
but accept that no person is ours to keep
and have faith that God has a new friend waiting for fill the void that the old one left behind.

I cry because I hate goodbyes,
Because there is no greater pain that the loss of someone your heart treasures.
Because there is no anaesthetic for when someone is removed from your life nor morphine from the emptiness of the pain that their absence leaves you with.

Those present in my life may not be tomorrow
but I know that long after the tears have ceased to flow,
I can still find the special friends in my heart
and keep them alive in my memory.

Those who I can no longer remember are merely part of the trash that got thrown out when God decided to clean out my closet.

Puppet on a String

There are those who love us,
Those who want us in their lives and are willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to be with us.
They practice understanding and patiently wait for us to open our hearts to them.
They are the friends who want to be more,
They are the puppets that we leave hanging...

We keep them hanging...
We recognise their qualities and atributes but to do commit because we do not love them... but one day we might.
Or so we tell ourselves that we might...
because we fear that there will be no one if true love doesn´t come along and that it is better to be with a puppet who loves us rather than to be alone.

Let Go.

Maturity gives us the tools we need to cut the strings.
Because those who love us have the right to find those who truly love them.
Because time cannot find love where it never existed
And because there is no greater and more selfish crime that to leave someone hanging.

The Passing of Another Year...

Human beings are born with the necessity to be understood.
It´s what keeps us from solitary isolation.

Loneliness is a self imposed punishment.

I complained to my angel that I could not feel his arms around me when I needed comfort and that I could not hear his words of consolation to my hurts. I asked forgiveness for as a human being, feeling the need of physical support. The kind that I could feel through my body into my soul. The kind only felt with a hug or a squeeze of hands.

He sent me a woman whom I met through the choices of those dear to me. Brought together by uncomfortable circumstances, we somehow found comfort in each other´s understanding of the world.
When the truth is met with courage, a friendship can be found even in the most unlikely of circumstances. Once again, I was reminded that friendships are not based on age, backgrounds or culture... it may not even require affinities, common interests or even time. All a friendship requirees to get a start is the desire to understand another individual and respect for both them and their opinions.
The future may have it that perhaps one day society shall call her my step sister, although to me she´s simply the special friend I met through circumstance. She´s the comfort and understanding my angel sent me in substitute of his physical self.
Inspiring, understanding and with an incredible capacity to live and love, this woman embarked with me on a parallel journey of self discovery and enlightenement.
Together we found stength in the courage to our convictions.
I felt especially blessed to have met and spent time with her and proud of the energy we inspired in each other. Despite whichever differences our lives may define us by, we have the ability to reach out and touch and comprehend the people life introduces us to.

On the passing of the year, I stood a few minutes before midnight with twelve raisins in my hand wondering what to wish for. Every year, it´s a tradition to ask fate for something good in our lives.
I though it unwise to ask for love as it had brought along with it heartache that year.
Considering that I was still healing from it´s side effects, I decided to give it at least another year before investing in that particular blessing.
I considered asking for money, as it would without a doubt facilitate the success of the projects I planned to accomplish. But wisdom has taught me that happiness lives a short marriage with money and I decided that success would be worth more if I entrust my goals to my efforts and my financial obstacles to my capable angels.
It came to me with a smile and I didn´t think twice before taking the bite... what I asked fore this year is for good friends in Lisbon.
He who has a friend in his life already has all he needs to be happy.

Last year was the year of change. It was every person´s opportunity to make a big change in their lives. 2006 is the chinese year of the dog and I believe if will be the year for honesty.
Sincerity with oneself and truthfulness with others.
Being in the year of my chinese astrological sign, i´m hoping to bring some of my hopes and dreams into reality. All it takes is the faith.
Faith in yourself and faith in the angels around you.
Friends are the angels God puts on earth to look after us, comfort us and support us when our own wings lose the strength to fly - make as many as life gives you.

I stand anxious to see what the new year will bring for me an those I care about.
May this year bring with it more love in people´s hearts and the courage to recognise, fight and live by it.

Happy New Year to Everyone!

Scorpian Night

It had been quite a long time since i´d had a Scorpian night... it´s one of those nights that promises intensity and the danger of hurt should you not handle emotions well...
A night impossible to forget... the kind that you need skill and control to survive.
On a night like this... the air feels cooler, the atmosphere sharper and the world seems clearer...
You´re faced with the choice of whether or not to embark on a wild rollercoaster ride... the kind that you could lose yourself on, if you don´t hold on tight enough.

The challenge of coming close to the heart of a Scorpio is equivalent of trying to tame a tiger... no matter how tame or educated he may seem on the surface, his sting has the speed and poison to make a strong soul ill and kill the weaker of spirits... a Scorpian sting is the kind that doesn´t heal easily and I knew that prevention was a wiser choice...

Perhaps it was the air of the night and the pull of the moon...
Perhaps it was the erotism of being hit on by a lesbian a while earlier that had sparked my interest to play...
It could´ve been the sheer magic of the night or prewritten destiny...
or maybe I was just bored...

Black blazer, neatly dressed and sharp look of the eyes... Young and therefore easier to handle, prudence nonetheless told me not to underestimate his sting and so I proceeded cautiously.

Logic... they love it... they thrive on it and they seek it like bees seek pollen.
Don´t try threaten these boys with poetry of love, they´ll just sting you and disappear quicker than they appeared...
To dominate a Scorpio, you have to give him the impression that he´s in control...
You don´t need to show him the way, just ask him where he´s headed and you´ll find that he´ll catch your trail.
Be honest always - any false move that they pick on will be the death of the connection you make.
Dare to push his buttons... and you´ll find that he´ll press yours, he may even find buttons you yourself didn´t know you possessed.

A Scorpio will never make the first move, but if you open a space for him... he´ll step into it.
Be wary of the space you give him - he might slowly back you into a corner.
Then he´ll move in close... almost too close for you to breathe.
He´ll whisper in your ear and brush your cheek with his so to imprint you with his aftershave...
His lips will always be close enough for you to possess...
but he won´t put to end your desire for the kiss you unless you take the initiative.

If you´re distracted for half a second... he´ll sting you.
If you lose courage for a moment... he´ll take control.
Be wary of your limits, to tease a Scorpio is to be painfully mutilated by his wrath.
It takes a strong personality to get close to this man´s heart without getting hurt...

And how do you know when you´re close?

When he backs you against a wall and tells you in his own words that he doesn´t want to get hurt... When you look into his cold eyes and see a heart that is willing to fight it´s suspicious nature and surrender itself to you completely... The scary moment when you feel the power of all the world in your hands.

I pulled out the capacity and desire to love from a Scorpio´s heart. Intense yet fragile, the love of this man is immeasurable... the woman who handles it will, will be loved and protect beyond the strength of her comprehension.

He says that he´ll never forget me and I know it´s true. There is a woman out there whose fate with this man will be greatly enriched from the hours that we spent fighting each other´s barriers.
I taught this Scorpio that passion won´t feed the heart and love can be accompanied with the intensity he seeked... lest he had the courage to believe in it.

I touched a Scorpio´s soul and survived unscathed... I was reminded that every heart harbours the capacity for great love... one merely needs the desire and courage to find, believe and fight for it.

Spending Christmas Solo

He sits staring at the full glass of whiskey.
There have been many changes through the years of his life but not the way he likes his whiskey.
He still pours it over a mountain of ice, filling the rest of the glass with water.
Some things should never change... the way he likes his whiskey is one of them.
He tries concentrating on the things he has do to. There are still DVD´s that need to be copied, covers that need to be printed and movies to be downloaded. He hasn´t yet put onto a CD that new movie that he downloaded about the haunted house. She´d like that movie for sure! She always liked things to do with the supernatural.
A lump comes into his throat as he remembers his daughter, she´d asked him to smile this Christmas but he was finding it hard to answer to her wishes.
A whole year has passed since he last saw her smile yet he sees it in his head as if it were yesterday.
A pile of the latest games lie on his table, they are copies that he made for people who ordered them to give to their children as Christmas gifts... All he wanted for Christmas was to see his boy´s face as he saw all the games Daddy would give him.
But neither of them were there.
It´s Christmas and all he´s got is the memories of the Christmas gone by.
He wanted to smile but all his face could give were tears of emptiness.

Dearest Daddy,
I thought of you all day, not just because it was Christmas day but because today, like any other day... I missed you.
I wanted to remember you with a smile of the wonderful memories you gave us last year but instead, I remembered you with a broken heart.
I would´ve smiled if I imagined you in the kitchen making our special magic stuff, the fig cake and the roasted chicken...
You would talk about Christmas in Madeira, the traditions and the memories you lived and I would feel you rememebering the same moments I was reliving with my brother.
I would´ve smiled knowing that you would smile everytimes you remembered me, every moment we shared as a family.
I would´ve smiled if you´d thought of me with a smile.
Instead I cried because I felt you crying... I felt empty because you felt empty.
Surrounded by people, I somehow felt all alone because I could see you, sitting in your chair reminiscing on your solitude; retracing all the steps that got you all alone in a big house. Bitter are the memories that once were sweet and the thoughts that once brought joy now are no more than painful reminders.
I cried because you cried and couldn´t think of you with the smile that I intended.
I miss you Daddy, not just today, not just on Christmas but everyday...
Everyday I wish you were with me;
Everyday I long for your presence.
I´ve learnt to miss you with a smile, instead of a tear because you are too special to be thought of with sadness.

Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.

If you make the effort you will find there there are those who want to hear about how much you love your children, who care about you and who want to spend time with you regardless of what is on your mind! You will be happy and I will feel your love from across the ocean.
Please be happy so that I can think of you with a smile rather than a tear.
Even at this distance, time will never change how much I love you Daddy.

As Tight As It Gets

Sometimes when you least expect it, you find yourself in a tight spot and end up thanking the hand of fate that decided to have some fun during rush hour traffic on a dull Tuesday at your expense.

Sunshine says: Enjoy every misfortune for in there somewhere will be a reason to smile or laugh about it later.

I once again began cursing the mob that began pushing their way into the Metro about to once again reduce to me a Sardine sandwich in an economy pack tin can.
But before I finished, a pair of huge blue eyes accompanied by a warm smile caught my attention. It was heaven’s justice that he should head straight my way and I wondered if my angels hadn’t taken my quick prayer too seriously when they began squeezing him up against me.

Pushed by the crowd there was very little either of us could do to prevent getting closer and by the time the doors shut, I could feel his breath on my neck and hear the beating of his heart. I couldn’t quite recognize the cologne he was wearing except to identify that it was suave but lasting – the kind that robs your senses slowly and then intoxicates you completely. I couldn’t help but let my imagination get the better of me as I realised how incredibly erotic it was to be pressed up against a wall by a good-looking man. The slightest movement was a forbidden pleasure. I wanted so badly to take another look at his eyes but at the same time I was glad that neither of us could turn our face to look at each other – our faces would without a doubt touch and even if they didn’t – I’d die of embarrassment if he saw the colour on my cheeks that evidenced my naughty thoughts.

Perhaps he did fell the heat from my cheeks after all, or he read my mind because when the door closed at the second station he whispered in my ear that he liked the way I smell. The sound of his voice took me completely off guard but I still managed to reciprocate the compliment with a steady voice.

Unusually daring, I moved my hand from where it lay and discovered that his hand wasn’t too far apart. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel him smile as our pinkies intertwined.

I wonder if I’d find the courage to find his whole hand but before I could muster the courage, the doors opened for the fourth time and the mob dispersed to the train station. There was breathing space again and I could once again breathe the oxygen as he moved away.

Slightly disappointed, I looked at the door that would open next where I’d get off and felt satisfied for the moment past regardless of how brief. As I positioned myself in front of the steel doors, I felt my arm being pulled and saw for the first time a shiny ornament of the stranger’s hand.

“I’d ask you for your number if I didn’t belong to someone else” he explained sheepishly.

Smiling, partly at him, partly at me mostly at destiny… I wasn’t sure whether I was angry or relieved that fate’s pawn was married. I’ll probably never see him again but if I do, I’ll ask him for his name so I know which kind of guys I should look out for.

Life is about the journey, not the destination.

Moment of Weakness

When your heart is broken:
You can’t see…
You can’t breathe…
It’s like watching your life in grey scales from a dark corner of a stuffy theatre.
People around you laugh and occasionally you manage a smile or two… though it never truly reaches your heart.

I believed that I was strong…
That I could overcome anything… but repeated disappointment exhausts me.
Too many goodbyes…
Too many tears…
Too many promises to myself that I could not keep.

I suddenly forget the goals I had,
The dreams I pursued and the reasons that kept me fighting.
I find myself having to drag myself out of bed,
Every morning searching for the courage to lift my head from a wet pillow and live out the life’s projects that now make little sense.

I wipe away my own tears and manage a sincere smile.
Broken but now defeated, the eyes in the mirror remind me that as long as I’m breathing, I’m still living.
Maybe not today,
Maybe not tomorrow,
But someday… I’ll wake up and see a rainbow in the sky and God will send down all his angels to paint the world in colours for my eyes to see again.

The pale face that stares in the mirror has red blood beneath the bleakness that haunts it.
It’s reflection reminds me that stars still shine…
The sun will rise in the morning…
And butterflies never forget how to fly.

Midnight Rendezvous…

There are days that you wake up in the morning expecting nothing more than just another regular day... And then life happens.
The phone may ring and someone that you haven’t seen for a long time may unexpectedly invite you for dinner.
Those who play it safe would assess the risks, recall the reasons for the distance and cover all possible scenarios before either turning it down or accepting the invitation. I confess that I didn’t think twice and was glad that the adventurer in me was returning to her full potentially impulsive self.

Moments that aren’t planned usually make for better memories than those that are well thought out. As I felt my feel sink into the sand, I knew that my destination was due to an angel that must’ve heard my heart’s calling to be near the ocean. More on a whim than for any other reason, my companion and I decided to go feel the water’s temperature and somewhere along the way we created a moment worth remembering…

On a deserted beach in the cold of the night two adults acted like children as they played in the sand, got their shoes wet and sand in all sorts of places. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to be spun around and to dance on the sand to the sound of laughter. I’d forgotten how good it feels to be tickled until my sides hurt, to be pulled close and to be touched… even cold hands can feel good if there is heat in their touch. It’s hard to stay indifferent to warm breath on your neck and the sound of sexy words mixed with the ocean’s waves. Intense eyes pulled one another to the limits, pulling back before falling off the edge. Each time they pulled away… they knew that it wouldn’t be too long before they got pulled back in.

Two old friends dismissed the cold midnight air with hot chocolate. They spoke of things in the passing and they spoke of things in the past. There are hurts in life we can only exorcise with the words of those who helped put them there.
It’s easier to deal with the pain of the truth than the anaesthesia of an answer not given. Even lies cause less damage than a blank uncertainty. When the answers aren’t given and things are left to say, people feel the need to fill in the blanks by jumping to conclusions. These are the conclusions that cause the most damage because no matter how logic may one day correct the mind, it somehow never manages to reach the heart once the truth’s opportunity has come and gone.
Steamed windows, intense looks and deep confessions… There are conversations you spend a long time hoping for and then they surprise you when they finally happen.

A long road along a coast line that changed from river to ocean… a GPS that didn’t function well… a ring that got stuck (more than once!) falling in a strategic spot… a black hair elastic that got lost… two different mugs of hot chocolate… a table that almost lifted… a seatbelt that served its safety purposes… nails that didn’t scratch… stops on the highway… cold hands mixed with warm skin… there are moments that your whole body remembers along with your mind.

How easy it is to push the buttons… how excruciatingly tempting it is to exceed the limits and drive another’s soul over the edge… out of control, in your control and vice versa… one needs to be very careful how you press another person’s buttons, never push them farther than their limits unless you’re prepared to take the plunge with them.

Moments come and moments go… as I lay my head to sleep I wondered if I would have to wait another three years for the honesty of all those who let me walk away without the words I need to hear. Some truths come too late…

In Love Again...

My lover is patient.
He welcomes me in subtle breaths and gives me the space to get used to his ways.
He speaks very little of himself yet allows me the freedom to discover him.
The more I know and with each passing day, I feel myself succumbing into his world – into him.

At first I gave him very little attention, even though I knew he was there: watching me, observing my every more.
He followed me to work in the mornings and accompanied me home at night. It took a while before I recognised his scent, which now follows me wherever I go.
He gives me control of my life and power to my decisions, yet he robs me of my senses and forces me to face my feelings raw.

A gentleman with cultural background and the spirit of the youth, those who observed me with him warned me of the love I’d surrender to…
And I have…

On a cold night where the lights of the city shone through me, the sound of him filled my ears and the mature scent of him intoxicated my senses – I surrendered to his passion and fell in love with him – in love with Lisbon

I’m in love with Lisbon.

A feminine voice and a masculine silence – Lisbon enters the very heart of your soul. Love him or hate him, no one stays indifferent to his influence. And when there is no once there to be with you – he’s there, standing by your side so that you never feel lonely in the city of lost souls.

He is everywhere that I am. I feel his spirit in the awakening of the city, in the energy of its ambition and the surrender of its exhaustion. He forces me to my limits during the day and embraces me at night. And though I do not belong to him, I simply could not walk away from him.

My lover is patient, he feels my hurt and recognises my needs. He asks nothing of me but motivates my potential – giving me the reasons to move on. Whatever happens in my life I know that ours is a lasting love. My goal in the relationship is the making of a positive difference in each other’s worlds.

May the intensity vary and may the passion never die.

Reading the Signs

I don’t believe in coincidences.
I believe that everything happens for a reason and that most of what happens in people’s lives are either consequences of their decisions or the road signs representing the path that they’re on.

If fate is the checkpoints we must all go through, then destiny is the road we choose to get to them. As an adventurer, someone who takes risks in life and enjoys travelling the narrow and less travelled upon roads; I nonetheless am cautious and do my best to pay attention to the signs that life gives me. I don’t always see them, I may even misinterpret them, but I know they’re always there guiding my way or confirming my decisions. It’s easy to take a wrong turn in life but very seldom can one truthfully say that the signs weren’t there…

I woke up this morning from a dream I couldn’t control and decided to start they day putting it out of my mind. The memory was gone by the time I brushed my teeth but it threatened to submerge with the desire to have Philadelphia cheese on bread for breakfast.
This wasn’t the sign – It was the mental association one makes between things and people and I only allowed it a minute to prevail.

By the time I sat in the metro, I was in a fantastic mood ready to take on the world and decided to scan my surroundings for an interesting face. It was at the second station that we stopped that a man with a brown leather jacket walked in, jolting a spark of recognition within me. His face wasn’t familiar but the way he concentrated all his attention on his palm top reminded me of someone who was.
This wasn’t the sign either – This is the mental registration caused by a resemblance between someone you know… or knew.

Work! – The marvellous distraction in life that allows you to succumb to your talents and ambitions, drowning out all of the ego’s influence. Self-satisfied and absorbed in my tasks, I’d given very little attention to any signs that may have surrounded me. So much so that by the time I looked at the watch on my computer, I realised that half of my lunch hour had been lost. Grabbing a sandwich and a can of juice from the vending machine, I sat on my chair for a quick snack and allowed my body to relax and my senses to rein free…that’s when it caught me – the melody playing on the radio. My lips began repeating the lyrics flowing into my ears by Phil Collins. Closing my eyes I was suddenly in a very green place where the air was fresh and my cheeks were pink and I was staring at a face that was incredulous that I’d never heard the song before. In too deep – the song and the lyrics with the power to overflow me with all the emotions of the memory.
This wasn’t the sign – It was the painful reminder of things past and the automatic link that the mind makes to a memory.

Once again, fully concentrated on my work, my mind was so preoccupied that I almost missed the sign put up for me:
The colleague who sat in front of me had fallen into the misfortune of falling in love with a man who was not interested in her. Driven by her obsession by him, she was on the phone to a friend describing how she’d followed him at lunch to see who he was having lunch with and to my utter horror; I overheard her asking her friend who must work with or near him, to report back his every action. She hung onto the most insignificant of his movements that must’ve occupied every second of her thoughts.
That was my sign!
The mirror of what I might’ve become if I hadn’t made the decisions I made when I once felt a love that wasn’t returned. It was a confirmation of my decision, a cry for a help that I could give and the beginning of deeper friendship.

It was a sign and I’m grateful that I saw and embraced it.

We’re once again at a festive season where bad feelings are forgotten and we spend time with those we love and care about the most. It’s been a whole year since I felt my father’s arms around me, and the joy of a family Christmas. I couldn’t hold back the tears that fell as a Christmas tree and the making of a Christmas liqueur reminded me of some of the happiest moments of my life… it feels like they were just yesterday…
These aren’t signs – They are reminders of the blessings God gives us and the reasons why life and fight to survive.
My will was to retreat into the privacy of my room where I could weep my father’s absence but instead:
I wiped my tears and made myself useful in the kitchen where my cousin and I exchanged jokes and memories.

The signs of life are only there to pinpoint our location, remind us where we came from and warn us of the path ahead. We can choose to heed or ignore these signs, decide what to make of them and which direction we want to go.

Have a safe journey.

Metro Blues

A friend of mine once claimed that I was working with the wrong company considering that my slogan should be “connecting people”. Truth is, I thrive off the desire to comprehend people, that drive me to make that connection and lately I’ve found myself once again drawn to strangers.

It’s on my daily Metro trips that I’ve been getting my latest kicks!

Living on the fast lane implies that no time should be wasted. In the twenty minutes that takes me to get to work, I can either read 8 to 9 pages of a book or plan my day going through shopping and to do lists or all those phone calls that I still need to make. At times I’m tempted to drift off into a daydream or allow myself to think about the unresolved issues that have been stored in my mind… on some days, twenty minutes is all I need to write the best columns in my head…

I used to think that the reason that I preferred the bus to the metro as public transport was due to the scenery I’d enjoy on my way to work. Recently I discovered that it had very little with what was going on in the outside world and more what was happening inside. Vulnerable and feeling a little lost, I’d given up my travel time on observing others to tend to my own wounds… now that I’m back on my feet, suddenly I feel that the answers are once again “out there” rather than “in here” and I found myself returning to my favourite pastime: observing others.

I find that most people are too engrossed in their own thoughts to realise that you’re watching them. Never mind… I try to connect with whatever they might be thinking and even though I can never truly know or guess what goes through their minds, it doesn’t hurt to ask an angel for a blessing or two in aid of a stranger. Often I notice young girls who hide behind their coats, their glasses and avoid any if all eye contact – to those I pray for a little self-confidence. Humility is what I desire to do those whose nose is above eye-level and courage to those who’s eyes look as if they’re about to spill a stream down their faces. It can’t hurt to wish a stranger well.

It’s easy to make a connection; all you have to do is to hold eye contact. It isn’t hard or provocative; you simply choose not to look away when your eyes connect. I met my future hairdresser this way; a Brazilian woman who was on her way to a job interview when we met in the Metro. I wished her luck, she told me that she’d let me know how the interview went and suddenly two strangers weren’t so alone in a big city.

Warning: If you look too long at a cute guy on the Metro, chances are that he’ll ask you for your number as you leave!

Of course not every connection you make is the kind you were hoping. I discovered that not all old men are “sweet” old men so don’t be surprised if a friendly smile results in a wink and a pinch of your bottom! – Take it from me, smile at a distance!

Even though my destinations are the same each day, I discovered the voyage in the journey. No two trips are the same and I hardly run into the same face twice. These strangers give me courage to be more of myself, the desire to connect to more people and the awakening of my adventurous spirit.Next time you cross-eyes with someone… Smile… you never know how far it reaches.

Goodbye

I went to see him.
Not for any particular reason other that the desire to look into his eyes and see the smile upon his face.
Time grows short… and so I take in as much of him as I can, before it’s all over.

Feelings are eternal even if relationships are not. Some relationships are doomed to carry a biological clock with an expiry date that determines the point which two souls drift from each other. They take with them only the memories and the feelings… it’s all that I’ll be left with soon.

In life, there are those relationships which we know where they’ll end… death and distance takes away the people we care about. Others are determined by the hands of fate, which either surprises us or gradually takes a person away. I’ve read somewhere that each relationship either lasts a moment, a period, a season or a lifetime depending on what we stand to learn from it. I believe that every lesson life chooses to teach us is given a deadline and many times, we pass it by due to our own stubbornness or distraction… when life is kind, the opportunity may come by again. With people however, it seldom does… we have to wait another lifetime.

When your soul quietens and you drown out the sounds of the world, shutting out reasons and opinions – you hear it… that voice that speaks along with the beat of your heart and speaks to you of things past and things to come. Often we drown out the voice that tells of the things hard to overcome even though it is often the hero that pulls us through. Some call this voice your instinct, your spirit or even the voice of angels as it tells you the secrets of now and the future. The voice that speaks to your heart and encourages your faith… that feeling that you simply know…

I know…
I know our time is short…
I feel him slipping away…
I don’t want to lose him… but it’s not my decision to make.

There are so many things I could try to prevent it…
But I know it’s unavoidable…
I know…

Does he feel it like I do? Know it like I do? Perhaps he’s accepted it the way I have or perhaps he’s chosen not to take heed. Most people react with denial, refusing to believe or believing that they are capable to changing the inevitable. Perhaps I too should fight… but I grow tired of fighting alone in a game for two. Naïve are those who think they have utter control, for we are but fortune’s fools… there comes a time when we all surrender leaving the lesson for another lifetime… taking only the memories and the feelings with us.
Standing on the deck before the ship hits the iceberg, I know now that there’s nothing more I can do to prevent it from sinking so I make the most of the short time I have left. Taking a look at the stars in the sky, slowly saying goodbye although still praying for a miracle – tomorrow morning the sun with rise again with or without the ship afloat. One I’ll board that ship again, but not on this ocean… not in this lifetime.

Butterfly

I finally got my tattoo fixed.
Perhaps the timing has to do with the fact that my ruling planet (Mars) is closest to Earth now than ever. At 69million kilometres, it will only be this close again in 13 years.
Truth is – I didn’t plan it… I didn’t choose the time, the timing chose itself.

Unlike my first tattoo… there was no fore planning; no hours on end over the Internet searching for that right image… just a feeling of what I wanted and fate at hand. Walking into the parlour, my only intention was to pass the time and take a look at future options. It was a pair of green eyes so much like mine that begun creating the possibility. The artist decided to play around with the design I wanted that before we both knew it, I had in my hand the exact image of what my soul commanded. Fate made up my mind and before I knew it, I was preparing myself for the needle…

“Why the sad face?” the artist asked.
I guess that I always imagined that this time around, that someone special would be there holding my hand.
Angry with myself for thinking such things, I reminded myself that my tattoo was an expression of my individuality, needing no other input other than my own.
It will still be there after Love has come and gone; time and time again.
That is what she represents after all, my butterfly – My capacity for Survival. I shall never require a special reason or person in life as long as I maintain faith in myself.

My butterfly – her colour representing so much more than it did when I chose it and her wings big enough to fly any distance. Her four tips reminding me of the four defining years of my life in Madeira and the tribal background reminding me of my spirit… part of the design ironically contributed by my best friend, there to remind me that friends are our special angels which bring out the best in us.

I winced at the prick of the needle, swearing under my breath for having such intense ideas and desires. Before a tear could fall I closed my eyes and allowed the walls around my heart to crumble. The cruel reminder of my tattoo artist echoed in my mind:
Nothing happens per chance – Everything happens for a reason.
Phil Collin’s “Groovy kind of a Love” started playing on the radio and I gave up on fighting the signs and reasons falling into a meditative state where I felt nothing else besides the music. By the time Mariah Carey finished her “we belong together” it was over and she finally looked the way she should.

A butterfly is one of God’s most fragile creatures, yet she survives the pouring rain, the scorching sun and all sorts of predators. Able to travel great distances - needing no guide and no map. The cruellest way to kill her is to grab her by the wings, incapacitating her ability to fly free.
She reminds me of what a worm is able to develop into given the time and opportunity, never going back to its original form. A butterfly might stop to rest, but she’ll never forget how to fly. She’s a survivor – I’m a survivor.
I thanked the artist and both our angels for organising our calendars. He asked me if it had hurt, a curiosity considering he’d assumed it wouldn’t hurt as badly as the first one. I merely smiled and told him that in life there are worse pains that a person has to endure and the butterfly was there to remind me of that.