segunda-feira, 30 de maio de 2011

Só isso

A energia da palávra "inédito"

domingo, 29 de maio de 2011

And Who Would That Be?

Night Musings

I want so badly to be me with "no envy, no fear".

Sincerely be me, authentically be me, authentically make my decisios. There is so much crap in between, so much interference coming from different radio signals.
I've been feeling angry and guilty and guily and angry and then depressed and then self-loathing way too often.
What happens when I lose count of the rivotril doses? My eyes are already drooping, I just thought I'd let one last word on this Sunday before giving in and being safe from myself once more.

(Is it really supposed to be this hard? )

Really, who am I? What kind of person am I? What do I believe it to be, at least?

Experience has shown me I am extremely sensitive observant of everything, which makes me a fast learner and very impressionable. Which also means very emotional. I know I have to express all this in some shape or form, it is something that is stronger than me. 
I am an artistic soul at heart. Not political, not intelectual in the more general sense of the word...not academic, not scientific...artistic. Impression and expression are more important for me than...everything.

I have passions in life, I am an not at a lack for that. I am at a lack of a pathway into these passions. Maybe I am blind. 
I feel guilty for feeling like an original in all this, I know most people go through some variation of the theme. But heck, I am here to write about me, so screw that. 
I am a writer, in my own hand with my own pen, I am a writer. I know that, at heart, I could not live without it. I know I love words. I know I could live working with them, reading, studying, writing, translating, etc.

I am not a good people person. I mean, I am, and I'm not. I am when I'm in the mood, the expansive mood. I can make friends easily when I don't have to, especially when I'm on my own and meeting new people. I tend to bring people together, when I'm not trying. It's a curious phenomenon, for here at home, this does not happen. I actually keep away from people and have no intention of being the leader of any crowd or the life of any party. 

Alas, contradictions...notorious. 

I work well with structure, to a certain point. I am responsible, I live up to expectations, I can be counted on...but only for a while, because then I start to be incredibly bothered by this. I hate being counted on, I want the expectations to let me loose and I want the freedom to be someone else other than that. That is the problem with the jobs I take on and inevitably leave. I do not fit in well into pre-fixed molds. I can do it, I'm good at it, but I can't take it for too long. I am far too leonine for that, and when I think about it, I prefer to be a leader or autonomous than to receive people's compliments for a job well done. I prefer to be a leader but then comes a time when I get tired of being responsible for others in such a way.

I'm not saying I know it all and am wonderful, not at all. As I said before, I learn well, I learn fast. I am confident in this position, of a learner and apprentice. But when the learning is done, I ache for moving on. That's where I usually break loose and then have to start all over again (apparently).

Can I live with this? Can this be some sort of start?


sábado, 28 de maio de 2011

Diary of an Infiltrated TA

For the sake of privacy and what not, pseudonyms shall be used!

Some field notes:

I love how Valentina now dances and smiles. She used to cry all the time, used to be so broke my heart. Now she hugs my legs in the playground and asks me to chase her. She has a special relationship with her shoes and is always taking them off, one velcro latch at a time. It drives us a bit crazy, running after her shoes. Her hair is also a bit of a mystery...I guess her family is trying desperately to tame her wild curls, but I say they should just let them be, they will be gorgeous someday...

The three sisters are lovely. They are some of the oldest ones and are so smart and independent, trying so hard to learn (which they accomplish effortlessly). Their little hands caress my hair as they "play" hairdresser and I close my eyes and almost drool. I love their little selves in my lap, looking in my eyes with impish grins. Olivia is such a perfectionist, a little Virgo in the making. She will give up her playground time in order to finish her snack, one little bite at a time, and will not rest until it's all eaten and cleaned up impecably so. Natalie and her cute little stuttering and her tomboyish independence. We call her Angelina Jolie, for her lips are out of this world. Her voice makes me laugh in a good way. Madeleine likes to "play teacher" and addresses the other students like we do, imitating us hilariously. It makes me be even more aware of how careful I have to be of what I say and do...they are taking everything in. 

Lily has understood, early on in life, what it means to help and be a team player (I'm so grateful to her mother and her upbringing!). We call her our 3rd assistant. She likes to help cleaning up, taking things to their right places, helping the other classmates get to their places...with her wide black eyes and tiny bird bones, she is precious and sings all the songs. But she is also a whiner and cries whenever anybody rubs her the wrong way. We give her a little look as to say, "huh! enough already, right?" And so she stops and goes about her business, skipping along the way.

Peter is a deep soul. Taller than all the rest, he also seems to be struggling with deep issues. I see the word "conflict" stamped on his forehead. I don't know what he's dealing with at home, but I know it's confusing and sometimes painful in his 2 year old world.  His biggest joy in the classroom has been his friendship with his exact opposite, Antonio, a tiny little boy who is not at all fazed by the expectations of toddler world. Together they run and jump and roll around together and have fun, much to our desperation, cuz it looks plain dangerous and usually wreaks havoc. He was the first to use the potty, the first name everybody learned and always eager to be a "good boy". So much so that whenever we have to be firmer and hand him a no, he desperately breaks down in tears. It also breaks my heart. I wish I could make him understand that it's alright and the confusion will lessen with time (maybe)...but even more, that he's not responsible for making any of it better and...he's just two. I guess we should let him roll around more and turn a blind eye. 

to be continued...

quinta-feira, 26 de maio de 2011


It's almost midnight as I write this and will be long after midnight when I finish.

I'm not quite sure I understand what it means to be grown-up.
I know that many of us don't really get it...

Comingo tende a ser "tudo ou nada" - ou vale a pena ou não vale nenhuma pena. Dias mais ou menos são dias terríveis. Sei que cometo esse pecado de extremos. Às vezes um dia terrível é melhor que um dia mais ou menos. Aliás, dias mais ou menos acabam virando terríveis pelo vazio de sentido que me provocam.

Sometimes I look at the pictures on my mural...a collection of several life moments, a lifespan.....and I look at my young mother, at my all these different ages and years gone by and I think: you've left me a hole in my heart. You don't know how big it is, how hard it was to be away from each one. How hard it was to come to terms with the fact that being with one meant losing the other.

Sometimes it scares me to realize it will always be there and I will feel the pressure closing in on it everytime I have to live loss, no matter how small it may be.
Listen to this:

So today I wrote a song for you
Cause a day can get so long
And I know its hard to make it through
When you say there's something wrong

So I'm trying to put it right
Cause I want to love you with my heart
All this trying has made me tight
And I don't know even where to start

Maybe that's a start

Cause you know its a simple game
That you play filling up your head with rain
And you know you are hiding from your pain
In the way, in the way you say your name

And I see you
Hiding your face in your hands
Flying so you won't land
You think no one understands
No one understands

So you hunch your shoulders and you shake your head
And your throat is aching but you swear
No one hurts you, nothing could be sad
Anyway you're not here enough to care

And you're so tired you don't sleep at night
As your heart is trying to mend
You keep it quiet but you think you might
Disappear before the end

And it's strange that you cannot find
Any strength to even try
To find a voice to speak your mind
When you do, all you wanna do is cry

Well maybe you should cry

And I see you hiding your face in your hands
Talking bout far-away lands
You think no one understands
Listen to my hands
And all of this life
Moves around you
For all that you claim
You're standing still
You are moving too

You are moving too
You are moving too

I will move you 

segunda-feira, 23 de maio de 2011


When things go right for me, I tend to start spiraling.
My mood lifts, lifts, a helium balloon shooting up towards the
but then., suddenly, it's lost. There are no limits, there are no references or boundaries. It is doomed in eternal sky. It makes me lightheaded.

Until...POP! And the plastic pieces go crashing back down to Earth.

I am trying to hold the spiraling and maintain the balloon in hand.

Shrink It

I don't know what's right or what's real anymore
I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
Cuz I'm being taken over by the Fear.

I'm shrinking the school. Shrinking the kids, the bosses, the rules, the routine. I am making myself giant-sized, looming over it all.
Before it kills me!

quinta-feira, 19 de maio de 2011

Someone Else Talk

Let somebody else talk for a change...


"Patients often contact me for therapy in the throes of a difficult decision. They want to know if they should get a new job or change their child's school, move to another city or leave their spouse.
When they can’t make a decision, it is usually not for lack of relevant information and advice but because of all of the unknowns. The future is certainly unknown. Making a decision can be risky; we might make a mistake.
Patients often lay out exhaustive lists of pros and cons at this point, weighing the potential risks against odds of success, hoping their therapist can tip the scales in one direction. If, after this exercise, they still can’t decide what to do, it is usually because of an inner conflict; something that a person may not wish to know about themselves.
Unfortunately, when we don’t want to know things about ourselves, there is a good reason for it. Either it would be too painful or too emotionally disorganizing to know it. All we have, at these times, is a lot of confusion and anxiety.
In fact, confusion and anxiety are excellent indicators that an inner conflict may be brewing; inner conflict is qualitatively different from fear of the future or of the unknown -- precisely because it is much more intense and emotionally gripping. If you find yourself perseverating about your problem, dreaming about it, feeling close to reaching a decision only to find yourself reeling back to indecision and confusion, and otherwise feeling like you are involved in some kind of emotional struggle, then you know you probably have an inner conflict about whatever decision you are trying to make – something you may not yet want to know about.
Trying to make a decision when inner conflict is at play is wildly difficult. It is almost like asking a mother to decide between two of her children. She can’t do it, even if one of them is obviously smarter or better than the other. Friends or family members can get very aggravated and annoyed and impatient when a rational decision can’t be made at these times. Inner conflict is difficult to comprehend and to resolve.

There is no formula for how long it takes to resolve an inner conflict so that we are free to make decisions and stop feeling gripped by a clenching anxiety. The world of emotions is not cut and dry like the world of logic; it’s murky. It requires patience. It can be frustrating and disappointing for all.
If you are ever faced with a not being able to make a decision, try to remember that you may have an inner conflict brewing. Then, put your list of logical pros and cons aside for awhile. Take out a blank sheet of paper or schedule a session where you can talk freely. Write, or talk, without thinking; free-associate. It may even work not to think at all about your problem at all for awhile; answers sometimes come to us like forgotten words, unexpectedly. If you can, try to wait for the right decision to make itself known to you. Eventually, it will."

quarta-feira, 18 de maio de 2011

Just look at the lion

grumble grumble grumble growl!

Me's a lion today, a roaring angry one, sort of psychotic.
Sort of tongue out sort of biting people's fingers off.
The last's all true, but at the same time, it's so false! it's so...just look at the lion. You'll get it.

Getting Somewhere

Some things take getting used to. 
For some people that might mean a week, two..maybe a couple of months. 
In Maya land, that means almost a semester doing the exact same thing and only NOW, NOW, almost JUNE, I've gotten to a point where it's coming (more) naturally, time actually goes by without much ado and I can have a life outside this "new thing". 

I know I've said this before..but every week my relationship with my job changes, grows, morphs...It's intensive adaptation in many, many, many senses. 

Go beyond the obvious, the "actual job and routine". 
That's not what I'm talking about anymore.
It's more like...
Adaptation to what I thought I should be doing and what I'm actually doing.
Adaptaton to what the "bosses" believe I should be doing and what I feel is best (and eventually end up doing).
My adaptation to the kids and theirs to me. To the coworkers...
To people's moods...ideologies...
To my moods and fears... 
Sounds is, pretty much. 
What fascinates me in all this is the novelty of the idea that I'm sticking it out. That I'm doing something normal. Me! Normal!
Of course, I'm considering when to get out...but it's different from before. I'm dealing with the panic of it, and not taking the straight route of bailing. I consider bailing - I go into total and outright crisis - but then I'm able to go back to middle ground of level-headedness and considering the other option. 

That is the fascination in play. I have a budget, for christ's sake, I have long-term plans. The crises don't stick to me like superglue...don't stick to my stomach. So yes, I have fledglings of long-term plans...And more, I'm actually curious to give them a shot and see what happens, how it all turns out.

I think I might be getting somewhere.

segunda-feira, 16 de maio de 2011

Petit Homicides

A few years ago I came to understand why people do any kind of drugs or have any kind of vices.
I came to understand how people can get lost and can give up on life, on many different levels.
All of this because I came to understand these potentials in my own self.

But there were other things I didn't quite get. One of these things is violence.
Now I get it. 
I understand why people can resort to it, I understand the utter hopelessness of violence, the feeling that takes over when nothing else seems to work. I understand this potential in me.

Jesus sure had it right, don't you dare judge somebody, for ANYTHING. You can never hope to vouch for your behavior put under extreme circunstances. You can never say, "but if it were me, I would never..." Don't. Just stop. Stop judging, just stop, stop, stop.
God, we are so ignorant.
So fragile.
So finite.
So hurtful and hurting, out of pure ignorance, prejudice, etc. etc.
And most of the time, lost.

Childhood is such a fragile thing as well...children taken care by adults who were children themselves just yesterday...and the children can't fathom that this grown-up who supposedly knows it all is so fragile himself, so full of fears and flaws and limitations. How deluded we are, as kid, how protected in our own little worlds. The loss of innocence is tragic, but also necessary

domingo, 15 de maio de 2011

Make a Move and Stay Awake

You say you wander your own land
but when I think about it I don't see how you can

You're aching, you're breaking
and I can see the pain in your eyes
Says everybody's changing and I don't know why

So little time
I try to understand that I...
I'm trying to make a move just to stay in the game
I'm trying to stay awake and remember my name,
Everybody's changing and I don't feel the same. 

You're gone from here
soon you will disappear,
fading into beautiful light
Cuz everybody's changing
and I don't feel right.

So little time...

quarta-feira, 11 de maio de 2011

The Experiment

"Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long"

Not sure what will come forth tonight.

"Set me free, leave me be, I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am.
And I stand
so tall
just the way I'm supposed to be"

I have a proposition.
An experiment.
I shall write and am forbidden to erase anything, anything at all. So if I change my - there will be a dash - and the writing will continue - but I can't erase. Just spelling mistakes, ok? Is that allowed? I say ok, so there we go.

I chose the star image tonight for its greatness, nothing - It transmits something I want to transmit - that was redundant. Yes, for the greatness it inspired, the deepness of feeling and the bafflement before the size of me compared to the size of THAT. The size of us, all of us. Doesn't life just baffle you?

Sometimes I search for pieces of paper and pens laying around in order to write something down, because it will make things better. For as long as I have known me, I have been writing. When I learned to write, I wrote stories and illustrated storybooks. I always had the urge but it was never really well organized, I didn't finish much of the books, for the ideas rapidly became greater than my ability to write them down. Frustrated, I would abandon the project. I wanted to write like the authors of the books I devoured. I knew it was in me, but I didn't know how to get it out. I still don't, and I still feel it in me. 

I've been considering my bf's remark that maybe I lack some self-discipline in my worry processes. As in, I should get it together and no let myself worry about things that I can't do anything about. True that, I understand the concept. It's just - I'm not obsessing about the color of my dress and my purse, I am petrified, deep down and not so - and also at skin level, aura level, petrified that I am not going to be anything in this life. That my life will resume itself in an endless search of a phantasmagorical goal. I'm scared of never being able to stick it out in anything, of being my worst enemy and not allowing myself to "- no erasing, ok. Not really of being my worst enemy, that's not what I meant. I meant it in the sense that maybe ME, my entire person, is the problem in this kind of world. Maybe there isn't - maybe- it's too scary to write down, even. Scary also because I know someone will read it and will judge it. That's scary as well. 
Do you think Friday will ever get here? 
Do you think July will " " " " "?
I have a good feeling about a translation career. About jobs, about being good enough, about studying it.Part of me is - doesn't want to start because I'm afraid I'll be disappointed again and then the problem will really, really, in reality,!

terça-feira, 10 de maio de 2011


Things I miss

- Us, during our Spanish class breaks, having "café con leche y tostadas" at a nearby café, in the sun of Granada autumn.
-  Sitting in the sun in May at EAB with Raquel, shaking off the coldness of Brasilia May mornings

- the last month of senior year...hanging out at school and just letting things end

- Assistir a novela das 8 com todo mundo da Animax

- As tempestades de verão brasilienses e a falta de luz da minha infância

- o primeiro ano do curso de psicologia, minhas amigas e muitas músicas e risadas no carro e entre aulas

- Sleeping on an airplane and waking up for breakfast, almost arriving...

- Watching Universal Channel marathons with Laisa (actually, watching anything with her!!)

- Reading book after book after book when I was 8-somewhere after I graduated highschool

- Broa da casa da Raquel (with milk!) depois do cursinho para o vestibular

- Quando minha mãe era tudo para mim

Estou triste hoje, novamente.
Vem aquele sentimento de sufocamento, vem a vontade de me encolher e sumir.
Eu fico pensando, de repente, e se eu simplesmente não dou conta de certas coisas? Assim, como uma deficiência mesmo? Tem gente que não tolera lactose, tem gente que precisa de ó preciso de certos cuidados também. E se for isso? E se eu me perdoasse??

Grr. Je n'aime pas tout cettes choses. Je ne sais pas le français.

quinta-feira, 5 de maio de 2011


Today I don't feel good.
It's the type of not feel good that the best thing (and only, really) to do is just be still. I don't feel like talking it out, I feel there is nothing to talk out. It's just one of those moods and I have learned through many many many experiences that one must not try to thing logically or make any life altering decisions in these moods. So there.
It's the kind of thing that I know what each and every person will say to me, but I won't be satisfied with any comment for the truth is, I don't know how to express the problem in the first place. I just want to be still, that's it.
It's the shape of not feel good that if I told my psychiatrist he would scrunch his eyebrows and wonder where it went wrong and quickly proceed to elevate/alter doses.
I've been very tired lately, just all over, generally and all over. Tired as in no energy, tired as in worked a lot, using energy that was generated, tired as in using resources that sometimes are scarce, tired of boredom too...many kinds of tired. Backbone tired, feet tired, eyesight tired, knees tired, voice tired, ears tired, brain tired.
I miss the rain!

segunda-feira, 2 de maio de 2011

Pequenas variáveis

Se tem uma coisa da qual não posso reclamar no trabalho é que nenhuma semana é igual a outra. No mínimo, tem a mudança dos temas, atividades...e ai tem a mudança em cada aluno, na presença, na doença, no aprendizado.
Sem falar das  minhas mudanças e variáveis de semana a semana, dia a dia.
No último mês tem sido dinâmico - fiquei doente, de atestado...aí foi páscoa...aí tive a tradução simultânea....agora temos reuniões com pais...e depois, who knows...cada semana vai mudando algo.
Uma pequena variável faz muita diferença num mar de rotinas repetitivas.

domingo, 1 de maio de 2011

A Frog Pondering Ctd.


Nada como um dia após o outro e uma noite no meio, já dizia uma antiga terapeuta minha...
Hoje estou blergh. Um blergh sem muito pé nem cabeça tendo em vista todo o progresso sendo feito.
É curioso, mas ao mesmo tempo previsível, pois nada se transforma tão completamente da noite para o dia. A sensação de ontem foi-se para não sei onde e hoje volto a me sentir como tantas outras noites, sentada aqui escrevendo.
Não se foi completamente no sentido de que eu lembro do sentimento que tive ontem e lembro de sua clareza e de seu sentido.
Ok. Nem todo dia é maravilhoso nem tudo tem que ter um porquê tampouco.
Também imagino que tenha um dedo da famosa síndrome de domingo, especialmente de final de domingo, envolvido aqui no meio.
No final penso o seguinte: os extremos não se sustentam por muito tempo...acontrecem, fazem parte, mas o dia-a-dia é esse mesmo, e´a preguiça, são apequenas alegrias, os pequenos momentos de superação, os pequenos de derrota, e assim vamos...até que esses mouitos pequenos viram um acúmulo e o resultado é um sentimento generalizado de poxa, como estamos bem, ou poxa, tá tudo errado.

Hum. Quero "a noite no meio" logo!