segunda-feira, 28 de dezembro de 2009

Christmas' Suicide.

"It's Christmas Eve. She lays on the sofa, the same one she doesn't leave for three days now. All those silly old Christmas movies on TV, the snow and the lights outside don't let her forget that she's alone for Christmas.
She opens up what seemed to be the third bottle of wine and refill her half empty glass. - "Half empty..." - she says, talking about her life this time.
She rather see her life half empty instead of half full. All the dreams she achieved on the last couple of years, all great places and people she met, everything was gone tonight. - "What's the point?" - she thought and drank.

By her on the sofa, some pills made her laugh. Pills that once were used to keep her awake to finish the work during college (which, by the way, helped her to get where she was now), were going to be used for... This.

She grabbed the glass of wine, four or five pills, and swallowed everything with just one sip.
Her head was resting comfortably on the sofa as she waited looking at the tv. The image started to vanish before her and she smiled. She would finally be free.

The Loneliness left her mind, it knew it was over with her... At least until the next day, when the sleeping pills would not work anymore, and she would find herself alone on Christmas morning.

segunda-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2009

Talent. (Breathe)

"The clock shows 1:12am. I've been laying here for more than 4 hours now, trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. I already did all the rituals that normally works to put me down but nothing worked, so I decided to use this time and the thoughts that keep coming to my mind to do something "useful".

On the Ipod "Breathe (2am)" [Anna Nalick] made me think about this: some people are really talented!
It's not the first time that I come to this brand new conclusion on my own.

How can someone sit down for a number of hours (or days, or months, it doesn't matter) and after that have something so beautiful that speaks, no only for the one's soul but for other people's as well?
Like the song says: "2 am and I'm still awake writing a song, if I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to. And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd, cause these words on my diary, screaming out loud, and I know that you'll use them, however you want to." It must be amazing to realize that the way you put your feelings out can become a beautiful song, or dance, or act, or paint... And that, that particular thing will become someone else's inspiration for new songs, dances, acts, paints...

A friend of mine taught me how to actually see some of these beauties and I gotta say, it makes a hell of a difference.

Just wanted to share the thought. Now I'll go back to bed, dark, Ipod and talent until I'm not conscious to listen to it anymore.

Good Night."

quinta-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2009

A Personal One.

"Ela é o seu primeiro contato com o mundo aqui fora.
Ela é a primeira a te ter nos braços, e o unico lugar onde você se mantém calmo e se sente seguro.
Ela é a que passa as noites em claro, assistindo você dormir, depois de ter passado horas tentando vencer a febre que não cedia.
Ela é a que passa horas tentando fazer você se alimentar naquela fase em que não queremos comer, e é aquela que passa outras boas horas no telefone pra garantir que você tem comido direito agora que ela não pode mais te sentar no cadeirao.
Ela é quem te ensina a falar, andar, escrever suas primeiras letras, passar pela primeira decepção amorosa...
E é a quem briga por notas boas no colegio, por companhias confiaveis, por te ter de volta em casa antes da meia noite, porque esse e o unico jeito em que ela vai conseguir descansar, sabendo que você esta seguro no quarto ao lado.

Ela é aquela em quem você vai se espelhar, pra quem vai ligar pedindo a receita de sopa ou o conselho importante.
Ela é você, so que com menos erros e bem menos burradas.
é ela quem você vai querer ser quando crescer.



Mais um aniversario da pessoa que me colocou no mundo e eu não estou lá. Já que não posso abraçá-la pessoalmente, resolvi escrever um texto em homenagem a ela, desejando um lindo dia, muitos sonhos a realizar e mais uns 150 anos de vida.
Te amo Mãe, Parabens!!!

Temporary Home.

It's been a while since I last came here, I've been working on some things to return... And as I'm here laying in bed, ready to sleep, I started to listen to Carrie Underwood's "Play On" and I found this song.
This is not something I want to turn into a habit, post songs and other people's texts, but I decided that this one deserves a spot.
Anyway, here it is:

Carrie Underwood
Temporary Home

Songwriters: Laird, Luke Robert/ Maloy, Zac/ Underwood, Carrie

Little boy, six years old
A little too used to being alone
Another new mom and dad, another school
Another house that’ll never be home
When people ask him how he likes this place
He looks up and says with a smile upon his face...

This is my temporary home
It’s not where I belong
Windows and rooms that I’m passing through
This is just a stop on the way to where I’m going
I’m not afraid because I know
This is my temporary home

A young mom on her own
She needs a little help, got no where to go
She’s looking for a job, looking for a way out
‘Cause a half-way house will never be a home
At night she whispers to her baby girl
Someday we’ll find our place here in this world...

This is our temporary home
It’s not where we belong
Windows and rooms that we’re passing through
This is just a stop on the way to where we’re going
I’m not afraid because I know
This is our temporary home

Old man, hospital bed
The room is filled with people he loves
And he whispers, “don’t cry for me,
I’ll see you all someday”
He looks up and says,
“I can see God’s face”

This is my temporary home
It’s not where I belong
Windows and rooms that I’m passing through
This was just a stop on the way to where I’m going
I’m not afraid because I know
This was my temporary home

This is our temporary home

quarta-feira, 18 de novembro de 2009

If... The Difference.

"You are alone if you decide not to go to that kid's party, with the clowns and magicians, and children running around... You're lonely if you miss having a place like that to go.

You are alone if your family left to go to that cousin's (who you hate) wedding and you did everything to lose your invitation so that you would be free to stay home... You're lonely if after the wedding, you find the pictures on the internet and spend hours looking at them trying to find a friendly familiar face.

You are alone if you spend Saturday night on the couch 'cause your best friend went out with her new boyfriend... You're lonely if you think that you'd do anything to be with them, even though you would be ruinning their one month aniversary.

You are alone if you decide not to spend the New Year's Eve with your family and instead, be in front of the computer at midnight... You're lonely if all you can think about is that you wanted to be able to hug each and every one of them.

If is a choice you are alone, if it's destiny, sorry pall, you're lonely."

sábado, 14 de novembro de 2009

Let the Music Play

"She was going to school. Walking to the bus stop with her headphones in place. She was listening to the singer saying how much she missed someone.
The air of the morning was cold, hard to breath and left a hole inside her lungs, as if something was missing. The red, oranges and yellow leaves falling, gave a sad look to the desert street.
The girl sang along with the music.

The track changed. The singer talked about the guy that made her happy.
A thin light of sun appeared between the clouds and the wind stopped, so that it wasn't cold anymore.
The girl sang along with the music.

The bus driver was in a bad mood, so was the singer who was now coursing the guy who ruined her life. The girl stare for a second at the boy, and when he looked back, her sight went in a different direction.
The girl sang along with the music.

Hopes and dreams were fulling the girl's head, as the singer described how amazing she felt when she achieved her goal.
The bus driver said "have a nice one", and the girl smiled back walking toward the school.
It was the last year and soon she would be leaving to college. New dreams, new challenges, new life. She hoped for the best and something was telling her that the best would come.
She felt good, and once again, the girl sang along with the music."

sexta-feira, 13 de novembro de 2009

The Jump.

"Every night she would lay in bed and think, almost in a prayer, about the dreams she had.
Even though all the signs pushed her toward the dreams, she would hold them in and just allow herself to live them at night.

If she tried to share them, people would say she was crazy and so were the dreams, and somehow she would let those people slow her down.
She even learned how to fake smiles and pretend she didn't want any of that anymore. But she knew her life was leading her to it, she could no longer hide, that was the way to change everything, to "break the deal".

She got on the plane, after a long talk with her sister, who tried for the last time to convince her not to do it, but it didn't work this time.
She looked at the city down there, with it's cars ant-sized. She took the first step. She Jumped."

segunda-feira, 9 de novembro de 2009

A Girl Got to Dream.

"15 years old. Orphan. Living in a small city, south of Alabama.
She was seating on the wooden bench, looking at the little stage on the center of the city square, stage that held her firsts victories when she was still a little girl.
She was writing on her journal, making the list to be sure she wouldn't forget anything.
1.Work all summer.
2.Have enough money.
3.Buy tickets to New York.
4.That friends phone number.
5.A coat, a dress, some underwear...

She would get there. Find every Dream she had. Be the bigger person she wanted, bigger than that damn small town.
She would go far!

A girl gotta dream..."


"Was born in Los Angeles, close to all the celebrities everybody wanted a piece.
Went to college, had her own little line of clothes, keeping mom's work going.
Never left home, she was happy that way. Life was comfortable and easy. She couldn't want more than that, could she?

At night, new places came to mind. Forests, beaches, wild animals, the sea... She was living a whole new life. In her mind...

'Cause a girl gotta dream..."

"Come and Save me."

"Every new morning was a nightmare, something to show her that she had survived another night. A bad day ahead to be lived, and she wished she could leave, get lost and never be find again.

All the yelling and the fights echoed in her head over and over as the tears were falling down her face.
She couldn't see, but she knew that things were being thrown on the room as the noises got louder.

She set on the floor by the bed, with the notebook and a pen to work a letter, wishing that someone would read it and come for her.
The same five words repeating 'till the end of the page: "Please, come and save me..."

No one never saw the letter..."

quinta-feira, 5 de novembro de 2009

About a guy.

"There was this guy.

New in the town, new at school. No one knew where he was coming from, his history or his father's name.

She used to seat on the chair, just staring at him, wishing she could guess all his secrets and mysteries. He was the reason for her to get all dressy to go to class and to shake and burble during the politics debate.

All she knew about him was his name and his gentle way with the words. She could listen to him talking about economy as if he was singing her a lullaby. Just listening, staring...

He was her knight, the chosen one, the prince...

She knew all that because of the one hour classes, his critical words, his dirty jeans and a sarcastic smile he had everytime he made her blush and lose her thinking on the subject.

Ahhh that guy..."

terça-feira, 3 de novembro de 2009

Got to lose some pounds.

"There was a perfect place.
A place where boyfriends didn't cheat, kids didn't have to leave to college, nor get married or grow older than cute little babies.
A place where war didn't exist, hunger was not known and death never had to happen.

You didn't have to leave your loved one, neither they you.
Your job was wonderful, such as your boss, and you'd make enough money to pay the bills, vacations three times a year and still have a little bit to buy a gift for yourself, just to be spoiled.

You didn't have your heart broken a million times, didn't have to cry alone while writing on your diary.
Didn't have your first time ruined by a fresh, young (and fast) boy, and didn't have to fake orgasms years later (because the guy was still fresh and fast even though he wasn't young anymore). Meaningless sex was always about you.

You could eat a bag of cookies and send the fat to that bitch who stole your boyfriend.
Could just seat and watch the gym classes instead of sweating your ass off, or you wouldn't even need it, 'cuz your fat was already with that bitch from before.

You would not feel alone, you wouldn't be scare, wouldn't worry, 'cuz everything was just perfect...


Then there's you, living miles away from that perfect place, with the thought of the first change you gotta make Monday morning, repeating continuously on your mind:
"I gotta lose some pounds...""

segunda-feira, 2 de novembro de 2009

The Loneliness

"The extra pillow on the bed was decoration during the day and company at night time, something to make the bed smaller.

She was laying there, on a Saturday night, at 9:30pm, thinking about the people in this side of the world, the side where was still Saturday night, that was getting ready to go out for the long night that was coming ahead of them, while she was there already ready for nothing."

"It was her birthday. She was turning 21. The celebration: going to bed at 10:00pm after watching some mexican soap opera with a lady that had passed the day yelling at her.

"21" she though, "Yay" said quietly, laying on the uncomfortable sofa, as one single tear fell..."


"Four monhs had passed, she was still hanging there.
Even the new season didn't cheer her up. But she was stronger than that. She had learned how to be.

The days were paassing fast enough for her to care. Just nine other months, a Christmas here, some birthdays there, no big deal.
She was hanging there."


The Loneliness...

sexta-feira, 30 de outubro de 2009

...And then she went away.

"The couple fought everyday. About the laundry, about their pet, about the way they made love.

He wanted her to be the maid, she wanted him to be the man. He wanted her to listen, she wouldn't stop telling him to shut up. He wanted kids, she, that he was able to stop playing the "Damn video Games".

They weren't alike, didn't have the same goals in life, even the taste for food was different. Sure there was love there somewhere, but the "Mr. Love" knew how to find a good place to hide like no one else in the middle of that mass of fellings.

They started to work late, travel for business, have important family dinners at the same time, with both families. They were never together anymore. It helped.

But one day, she came home early from work, he was already there. They talked, without arguing, and decided what was best.

...And then she went away."

domingo, 25 de outubro de 2009

Where do we go from here?

"She was the oldest daughter, the one supposed to be the whole model, the one whose everybody expected the most not to fail.
Had all the opportunities to be big: traveled to places in order to learn and grow, had the fanciest classes, private teachers, had everything...

Suddenly, one day, she realized she didn't want any of that, it didn't felt right... Then, looking a little deeper, she noticed she didn't know what she wanted. All the knowledge, the experiences, were not good enough anymore, she didn't know what to do with all of that, she felt lost and afraid of what was coming.

So, she started just to be, to exist, waiting for the voice inside her to call and show her the way.

Days passed, years, and she was still stuck in that cycle of not-living. She was wasting the life God gave her just waiting.

Then she packed. Not much, just enough to survive, grabbed the backpack and some little money she had and left. Not knowing where to go or what to do, she left, just for the urge to move and to fell the felling of doing something, looking after the calling that couldn't "talk".

Still, she didn't find anything, still she's looking for something she does not know how it looks like, but now, after some time on the road, she's learning to keep the eyes open, to enjoy even the wrong way, to enjoy just the felling of living the journey..."

terça-feira, 13 de outubro de 2009

Sweet Dreams

"The girl lived in a farm.
For all her life she saw the same places, the same faces, the same sun rise and set.
She was as happy as she could be, with her big family dinners and crowded Christmas mornings. But she still had her dreams, where the lake was not part of the scenario.

She wanted to see the world, go to the famous places she saw on TV late at night, be the model she's been practicing to be ever since she started to walk.
So one night, right after she turned twenty-one, she packed her bags, kissed her siblings goodbye, received her mother's blessings and left.

On the big city she found a job in a restaurant, found someone to share the rent, learned how to drive... Her dreams were so close now.
That life was not easy, but everything she had was paying off.

Soon she started to model, went to the famous places she wanted to go, traveled the world, met interesting people, found love, had kids... She made all her dreams, and more, come true.

Late in life, when she thought she had everything, a new dream found her and she saw herself back to the beginning.

Then one night, right after she turned seventy-one, she packed her bags, sold the apartment on the big city, held hands with her love, and left.

She went back to the farm, where the lake was part of all the scenarios.
She gave to her children and grand children big family dinners and crowded Christmas mornings, knowing for sure that now all of her dreams were finally true, and - oh, she was happy for that."

domingo, 11 de outubro de 2009

Gotta Learn to be Myself

"She was staring at the phone waiting for it to ring, waiting for someone to tell her the next step.
Two days passed, nothing changed.

She was running out of time, and the destiny that seemed to be the right one for her was slowly slippering between her fingers.
It only depended on her, she was the one to save the day, for the first time, she was her own angel and demon, the one to help her to find her way or lose it completely.

It took her two weeks to finaly get the nerve and go for what she wanted.
She got off of the plane and breathed deply the air she new she missed. She was home. After a long vacation, that's how she was felling: safely back home.
Unfamiliar faces all around, faces that she knew she could trust. This time was for real.

She smiled the biggest smile she had had on her face in quit a time, picked up the bags and loaded the car.
The new city was her home now, and she felt it would be everything she was waiting for her whole life.
Finally she was sure where she belonged, finaly she took the step by herself, finaly she realized she had found the person she was looking foward to meet ever since she was twelve, and then she knew she was complete.

In a house that was not hers, in a citty she didn't know the streets, in a strange country with a different language... She knew that that's where she was supposed to be, and once and for all, among everything she was sure she would live... She knew she would learn how to be her real self."

quinta-feira, 8 de outubro de 2009

By That Time Tomorrow...

"He was nervous, hardly breathing, even shaking a bit.
He was passing the plan one more time with the so called friend who proposed that to him:
They would come the next day, around that time in the midle of the night, nobody would be there, they wouldn't have security or people to worry about. It was going to be easy and fast.
Nothing would go wrong and he knew it, but even though he was sure of that, something inside of him was telling him "Don't".

The friend said "Relax dude, we'll be fine" and laughted at him for being such a wuss. He forced a smile and walked away, to the opposite direction.
He was in his teens, fifteen, sixteen maybe.

He went back home, where his two baby brothers and his mom were now sleeping, after a long day where the kids had to share something to eat once a day, and the mother had to hide in the room and cry by herself, holding tight to a cross, praying...

Even though he was not sure of what he was going to do, he knew: that would be the last day he would see that. His family needed him.
So he thought that By that time tomorrow...."


"She was sitting on the dark room. Her eyes were green but the red surrounded it due all the crying. The little package was safe in her hands, as if something could happen if she let it go for a little second.

She started to think about her short seventeen years lived so far and a movie started to pass in front of her eyes, even though she was not on her last moments of life.
She saw a pretty little girl, that had all the attention she needed, and that could not be happier than she already was.
She went to the best schools, learned to play the piano, had dance classes...
By the age seven, trophies took the dolls places in the bedroom decoration. When she was eleven she already knew how to speak french and dutch. At age fifteen she was accepted to join a very competitive course at college, and they knew she was underage.

When she was sixteen, she fell in love.
Everything seemed not to be that important anymore and for the first time she felt truly happy. She had everything she always wanted and everything was just one thing, so simple, so small, but still everything.

Now she was holding on to a litte package, that could change her life forever if she was allowed to keep it. But she didn't get to chose it. It wasn't hers anymore. She was supposed to take the plane back home and leave it behind. She didn't want to, but that's what she was expected to do.

She grabbed the phone, and for the first time she made the choice for her own life.

By that time tomorrow..."

There you go.

I finally did it. Created my blog!
Will I use it? Who knows?
I might just end up writing this first post and never remember to come back again... Or not. I might write every single day, as if my life depended on it... Or not.
This is just the beginning, and I decided not to worry too much about what's gonna happen next.

Why in English? I don't know. I think it depends on my mood. Today I'm in an English mood and tomorrow might bring an Italian vibe and I might google the whole text and just "ctrl+v" in here. Who knows?

LIAOR = Life is an Open Road, isn't it? You just have to chose which way you wanna turn and drive passing through the obstacles and traps you might find.
The credits for the name are of a Gloriana's song (The Way it Goes) and I promise I'll try to be as good as I think the song (and band) is.
I chose this name because I'm about (or maybe not) to write things about every road I take in my life, talking about the turns I make and the bad holes I stuble and fall into. I wanna talk about the choises in life (or with icecram flavors) and the innumerous possibilites you have to pick among, what fits better for you.

I don't know if it's going to be good, and interesting, and funny or any of this stuff I like to read in a text, and I don't even know if someone, someday will read this, but the goal in here is to feel better everytime something bothers me, or to remind myself of a lesson I learned that day, or whatever else I think it's important. If it happens to help other people, than YAY!

I just wanna have fun...