A Árvore

Um tronco de árvore dividido ao meio. Tronco fundado em raiz que corre quilômetro embaixo da terra debaixo dos dedinhos longos da menina de cachinhos dourados. Ela molha as florezinhas amarelas que brotam aos pés do tronco. Ela sopra as pétalas com desejos suicidas de que elas se despetalem ao vento. Ela sopra suas vontades avessas. As flores resistem. 

 

A árvore cresce soberana, majestade de suas bifurcações. A árvore mora em floresta encantada por gigantes que dançam com o vento balançando os cepos que cantam em sinfonia com a brisa. Milhares de raios de sol desenham labirintos de luz entre as folhas e galhos. Milhares de raios de sol desenham labirintos de sombras entre as folhas e galhos. Luz e escuridão. 

 

Frio. A mente rasga ao meio e vira do avesso. 

Caos. Corpo suspenso e mar infértil, esperando ralo, válvula de escape, buraco, qualquer saída dessa esquina de mundo.

 

Menina, ela precisa atravessar, precisa tomar caminho construído com pedras tão pequeninas que podem ser confundidas com areia. 

 

Menina semeia desejos em gestos largos, joga os braços para o alto brincando com o universo.

 

Chega de pedregulho. Dá descanso para menina. Deixa ela em paz por um soluço de tempo.

 

A menina sonha sonhos de astronauta, escada pro céu, degrau por degrau. Ela corre em passos largos e para exausta nas curvas mais abertas. Ela se joga no chão e se espreguiça inteira, invadida pelo abismo em seu peito. Seus braços e pernas arranham o solo de algodão e concreto. Ela levanta e corre em cima de nuvem preta de chuva. Ela chove. Ela despenca lá do alto e freia em susto. Ela se estabiliza, suspensa à beira de desfiladeiro. Buraco negro cantando seu nome. Ela flutua.

 

Menina forte que morre de medo. E às vezes esquece de ser Amazona e vira passarinho sozinho no ninho. Ela fecha a porta e encara o rosto no espelho, “será que eu sou feliz?” Menina chora calada no banheiro. Ela se tranca no quadrado frio, senta na privada e chora quietinha. Ela lambe lágrima salgada com gosto de esperança e ri oceano, faz graça de si, chora mais um pouquinho. A menina se sente tão sozinha que chega a abrir o sutiã achando que é ele que causa aquele aperto no peito, né não, é o peito mesmo.

A árvore não para de crescer, se finca, seja vento, chuva, sol, se alimenta de luz e terra com seus milhões de galinhos que se multiplicam em milhões de vertentes, milhões de possibilidades. A árvore. A terra. Os galhos. As folhas. Raiz. A árvore transborda sua seiva entre cada ruga de seu corpo gigante, sangue de tronco pingando amarelo-ouro em folhas secas, folhas secas que já foram brotinhos e adultas verdíssimas banhadas de fotossíntese. Folhas que se nutriram dos galhos, do sol, do ar, da terra, e depois caíram, secaram, desintegraram, viraram poeira. 

 

A árvore e seus ciclos. A menina e suas estações.

 

A menina canta alto sozinha e gargalha ao vento. Ela quer abraçar o mundo. Ela corre montanha e conquista sua terra ao chegar lá em cima. Ela salta alto suando seus monstros secretos. Ela encara de volta. A menina corre sobre areia quente, respira partículas astronómicas, respira fundo e sente arrepio do pé a cabeça. E o dia amanhece e escurece e a noite invade o céu de estrela e a lua encara a menina de frente.

 

Menina, mulher, criança, velhinha.

 

E às vezes no banho, debaixo de água quase fervente, ela vê sua vida toda em flashes e filmetes. Ela deixa a água correr sobre o rosto e enxurrada de memória explode em bolhas de sabão e o corpo dormente desiste de brigar com o mundo por aquele instante e o corpo não mais resiste e se entrega a água corrente.

 

Ela vem pensando demais, e quando se joga cansada na cama, o corpo dorme mas a cabeça explode de questão. Ela fica horas e horas calada no escuro, frita em deserto sem miragem, rola de um lado pro outro, procura conforto onde só encontra desalento. A menina abraça o travesseiro para tentar tapar buraco. É que de noite a menina fica mais vazia, seu corpo não cabe em seu contorno. Ela abre a porta, quebra a casca do ovo, descama sua pele e fica ali, crua, nua, assustada consigo.

 

A menina está cansada de brigar, de batalhar, de pular obstáculo. A menina voa entre mil galáxias dentro de sua cabecinha de cachinhos louros, abre as asas e deseja poder engolir o universo antes de ser engolida.

 

Deixa a menina quieta. Deixa ela brotar. Enraizar. Deixa ela criar caminho. Deixa ela ser. Deixa ela estar.

 

***

If I leave I'll live

My Disney Princess Half

(Continuing "My Predator Half")

I've been punished for my honesty, punished for my rawness. I've been potentially banned from the lover's seat and thrown at the fuck buddy bench since opening up about my sexuality. I've been looked down as a desensitized woman with horny porn fetishes that sees men as naked shadows haunting legs around town. I've been mistaken for a cold stoned heart hunter that dismisses love.

What the hell??? I never meant that.

I do appreciate men as much as they appreciate women. And lets be honest here, a part of being single is the sudden ability to notice people around your world that you usually wouldn't take the time of the day to analyze. It's all so new; it feels almost like an anthropological study of a strange tribe. There is this undeniably open slot in my heart standing by to be fulfilled, and until I find the guy - and take my time to make sure it's right - I feel completely free to explore my perversions through observation.

I'm far from undressing every man I look at. Sometimes, whenever they forget the pressure to prove their masculinity, I catch myself intrigued and somehow infatuated by their vulnerability, that's when I watch them. That does not make me want to jump on their faces either to be fucked by them; it just makes me appreciate their manhood. Contrarily to what it may seems, I do not think about a cock when I look at a guy I like, it's actually the opposite. As my dear Manu says, my clit is on my brain; I see the charm, the wisdom, the personality first, the rest is all playfulness.

It's a double standard. It's ok for men to be ferocious and voracious; It's ok to want to eat women alive and to make open remarks about every skirt that passes by; It's ok to masturbate, to watch porn, to talk about sex disregarding true feelings, it's okay to be dirty; yet, we women can see through it and invest in them, knowing there is a much softer layer underneath the Macho Shell, no matter how thick they let it get. But for women...You are either the girlfriend material type or the depraved fuck, either the prey or the predator. Either or.

I truly believe I'm both.
I'm all in one.

Aren't we all?

My perversions don't take away my romanticism. My erotic fantasies don't overpower my yearn for love. My obscenity is fueled by intimacy and complicity. My sexuality comes along with the need for the right person to share it with.

It might be that I'm just unusually comfortable with my sexuality, but I'm as human as any other man and woman. I feel as lonely, or sad, or excited or melancholic or cheerful, or in love as anyone else. Ultimately, we all want the same things.

Love and happiness.

I want to be loved as much as any Christian girl would. I want to be two and one alone as much as any virgin with marriage dreams would. I want to be cared for and watched over, to be caressed and looked with tenderness as much as any Disney Princess would. I want to be the apple of his eye. I want to love and be loved and cry and laugh together. Tenderness and voracity, hunger and fulfillment, perversion and love, they all walking together.

I may be a liberal queen with family dreams, I just don't allow myself to fall under our society pressure to follow their format - I'm figuring out my own.

I don't look for strict definitions to my being. I don't fit in any specific profile. I'm good and bad, angel and devil, amoral and ethical, perverted and loving, I'm all of it. I don't have the need to restrict my margins, either to hide my perspective of this Human, All-Too-Human world. I accept my paradoxes and contradictions with a soul free of judgment. I welcome my humanity and the complexity of it disregarding acceptance.

Still, I want to be loved.

Tolerance

But, isn't finding the right person about how compatible you are with their imperfections?

The Elevator

When I walk in the hall he’s already standing there. At first, he dismissively glances at me, but it seems that his eyes are immediately drawn back. He quickly stares, he notices that I noticed. Our eyes meet and quickly run separate ways.

Then there is the mirror. It takes a second until we realize we are both checking each other out through the mirror. A smirk. I don’t know where to put my hands; I don’t know how to keep still. I push the button knowing that he has already done it, our eyes play hide and seek.

The door opens. He holds back motioning for me to get in first.
“thank you”, “it’s a pleasure”, “lobby?” “yes”

I’m looking away sensing his presence. I can smell him, I hear his breath. He puts his hands in his pockets, he is looking at me. Is he a hotel guest? Is he alone? Where is he heading? How does it feel to be in his arms?

Our eyes keep meeting back and forth, grasping details.

I notice his clothes first
Tailor quality silk black suit
Turquoise button shirt underneath
Purple tie with thin yellow stripes
Shiny black dress shoes
Breitling Watch

He’s tall. He looks fit. Strong but soft hands, carefully messed up hair. Dark complexions. Blue eyes, sterling blue. Thick bottom lips. He opens a smile, he’s sizing me up. His head slightly turns to the side, as it to look into it better. He notices I'm observing him and turns his head away. The elevator stops. I sigh. We both motion to get out and our shoulders touch softly bouncing each other back. The door opens.

We touched, it reminisces. Our eyes rest in each other.

Two people stare at us trying to get into the elevator. We step back to opposite sides. Our observed voracity flows through the air openly, you could feel it. The four of us stand in a silence that could crash thin glass.

I look at him, he looks back, I look down. I get shy, very shy. It hits me how timid I can get when facing strangers that I’m attracted to, I simply tend to shut down and scare myself away.

He’s now openly watching me. I glance and his eyes linger for more. I motion to search for something in my purse. I feel silly for faking it, I stop. I lean against the wall and look up. He’s staring right into my eyes. I’m trying hard to escape from his hypnosis. What if he could be The One for me?

The door opens, the couple leaves first. We stand motionless for a split second, our eyes meet one last time. I wonder.

I walk away in large steps pretending purpose. I’m actually just a scared cat.

He says something to me from far. I don’t look back.

15 Minutes Of Fame (Fitting Day)

I’m left in this windowless room
Me and Vi in each corner of this long table
Both in silence
Lost in our tasks
Lost in our minds
While the city wheels run full blow

We glance at each other here and there
We bond in our loneliness and patience
We stand by to stand by
We run to wait
We dance to the biz’s music
Going from forgotten to suddenly highly demanded

We can hear our circus on the room nearby
We hear the Polaroid snapshots
The incessant phone rings
The stressed voices overpowering each other
We hear the gossip whispers
And the models complains

I close my eyes
I can picture every one of the thirty or so faces hanging in there
Hanging on their hang ups

I fill up my empty minutes with Bukowski’s words
Between text messages, emails and radio transmissions
I look busy
But there is a huge slot of pulsing energy ready to be requested
I’m alert on the starting line
Yearning to feel useful
But they move in their own flow
They play their own song
It looks like a slow day

I stare at the blank screen
I surf the Internet
I read my book
I take small sips of water

I feel haunted by the thousands of clothes
Hanging on this sea of wardrobe wracks I’m surrounded by
I see them alive
I feel sorrow for their fate


They will soon be filled by pale skinny bodies
They will be running around Page Street and Seacliff Beach
Arranging themselves into their hangers curves
Resting their fabric into live skins
Searching for the right light
Posing for the cold lenses of a fancy camera

They will be live and colorful for the photos
Glamorized by accessories, hairstyles, make up
Each piece will have its own important denomination
Their names will be heard over and over again
With an entire crew running after them
Frazzled and screaming if any piece sneaks away for a split second

They will be fundamental
Ultimately, the show is about them
But human ego tends to often overshadow that priority

We’ll be seating around
Running into our overtime
While waiting for the fights to be over
And decisions to be made
They will make, the clothes will
They will be seen in Fashion magazines
And freeway billboards
They will stand tall on the stores walls

Legions of young girls will stare from close
Following their trend
Eager to look just like the girl in the picture
Thousands of young boys will stare from close
Watching their trend
Yearning to be with the girl from the picture

The hero clothes will be then just flat images
They will be turn into dimensionless portraits
Hoping to be seen by the piercing eyes of the fashion world

Their actual lives will be shortly lived
They will expire after the three shooting days
Mindlessly folded on their way back to their cardboard coffin
That will be buried on a dusty stock room of the headquarters
They won’t be worn again
They will be left alone in their melancholy
Remembering the golden hours of their fifteen minutes of fame

The Elephant

She comes out of her steel truck
Moving her sovereignty slowly
She walks calmly
Like she was one of us

She doesn't bother our mindless presence
She doesn't mind our differences

She is there quietly eating
And we suddenly walk in like a sect
Poking her
Taking pictures
Standing around like curious monkeys
Interrupting her peaceful world of instincts
With random commands and stupid orders
all it matters is our shallow satisfaction

She doesn't mind our hostile humanity
Dipped in sorrow and infatuation

She is there
Simply being

I watch her awareness
She looks distracted with her meal
But every civilian move is noted with a head nod

She's gentle
She subtly chooses to allow us being around her

I'm lost in her
Fulfilled with respect and curiosity
I feel her power
Her age
her wisdom
I feel her patience and peace
Massive as she is
Taking her time

She is here and only here
There is no past or future but instincts
All the years she's been on this earth

I'm standing in eerie
Intrigued by the life she leads
Wondering the world through her eyes and paws
I think about every single one of the scars she carries on her thick skin
I wonder how does she feels
How much she knows

There she is
So foreign to this movie crew
There right on top of her
Taking their Kodak moments with the elephant
While not seeing her at all

Humans
Don't they know
Don't they understand

I'm fascinated
More compelled to her than any human in this crew
Wishing I had a little more of her "elephance" in me

I'm left here
Wishing it was just me and her
Learning our similarities
Without intruding our differences

Me and her
Just here and now

Me and her
Just being

Spell

You know what it's the fucked up part
I truly know that you ought to be part of my life
There is no way out of this certainty
It simply is
I can feel it right here in my gut
I can't run from this knot in my chest
It's freaking intense
It's like a spell

I've tried to deny it
Fight it
I've tried to erase with replacements in every level
I've tried to talk to myself out of it
And find the origin of this feeling that must be mad
Must be unfounded
Must be some kind of a rejection complex or something like it

But then, underneath all my self battle
There is this storm brewing in my core every time I think about you
And lets be honest here
It happens all the time
Everything brings you to my mind

I just want to turn the other way
And move on
I want to say the hell with all this bullshit
Truth is he must not be into me
It's just all crazy shit in my head
I got to walk away
But then, when I'm almost starting to believe it
The feeling comes back even stronger
Compressing the entirety of my body from within

See, it's right here
I've been feeling it
Since the moment I started
Thinking about writing these exact thoughts
Here in this blank screen

I lose my breath a bit
My heart beats faster
I feel uneasy
My whole body squeezes
It's physical
Still, it's not painful at all
It just feels like a deep sense
A knowing
A certainty

It makes me wonder if that's the kind of feeling
A psychic has about things
It's a clear intuition
It doesn't recite words
It's not a voice in my brain
Either makes a logical sense of any sort
It's just is

And even if time goes by
And people come and go through our lives
Even if we forget each other
And life takes us into different paths
Somehow I know we'll eventually be part of each other's lives
And it will be sooner than later

We are bound to be together

My Predator Half

I've been feeling like a predator going through my 1/3 life crisis
I've always looked at men with perverted eyes
I take an incredible pleasure from observing them
I can feel their grips and how their hands run through a woman's body
I can picture their smile when in love 

and all the tenderness flashing out of their lingering eyes
I can feel their pain and happiness
Their cries of broken heart or broken dreams

I can see the child in them, and also the tiger within

I imagine how they whisper when making love
Their hoarse voices in the morning
I watch their calves going up and down the streets
Their forearms holding tight to steering wheels
I picture them naked
I imagine them jerking off in their dark bedrooms, living rooms, showers
I think about what kind of horny thoughts trigger their minds
How their bodies shiver when they cum
I love men and their details

I can now tell from far the thrivers from the complainers
Those who shut down when hurt
Those who go right back into their teenager fighting tools
Those who use their sorrows as character builders

I can smell their methods from miles away
But I've been arrogant in my wisdom
I may soon get broken in 

from the high I'm getting off this pseudo knowledge

And this is where my 1/3 life crisis begins

I want to eat and be eaten by them

I want to explore and discover men like promise lands

I want to possess and be possessed

And all that sounds great

Problem is that age and, consequently, experience (blah)

Has brought this extremely high standard 

As if there were no men perfect enough for my imperfections

He's not smart enough

He's not handsome enough

He doesn't like his job

He's not creative

He's too artsy

He doesn't have a twisted sense of humor

He jokes too much

He's too proper

He is not philosophical enough

He's too trashy

He's too trendy

He dresses badly

He's too metro

He's not cultured enough

He's a snob

He's not sexual enough

His kiss is not my kind

He's too sloppy

He's not bad ass enough

He's just a bad ass and nothing more

He's not affectionate

He's too into me

He's not into me enough 

There’s always a red flag to be found not allowing me to fall enough to at least get some ass out of it, I mean dick. It's been almost a year or so since I’ve had fallen for one, and it's not like I'm looking for a boyfriend, or maybe I am and I'm just too cynical to accept my own romanticism. 

Paul has warned me, I still insist on acting on a mindset that no longer matches my level of maturity. I keep denying I’ve grown up. I try to fool my brain, but my body stops me. I don't even get wet anymore, and, I mean, I'm attracted to the men I go out on dates, but not enough to take it to the next level.

 

I went on a road trip full of porn fantasies excited to turn my masturbation dreams into action. There he was, hot and available, eager to jump all over me. I couldn't even get a hard on, and by that I mean myself. He, on the other hand, stayed hard all weekend. I didn't even try, one thing there is no way I can do is the charity fuck (not anymore). 

I got back from the road trip not only hornier, but with frustration added to the hot pot. So what now, am I waiting for the right guy, even if just thinking about this kind of bourgeois mentality makes me puke a bit in my mouth? Am I the suburban princess with marriage dreams? Have I been brainwashed?

 

I got a fuck buddy. A man who serves me whenever I feel the need. He's as hot as it gets, lives nearby, one call away. In fact, I heard something about him the other day that made him even hotter — apparently, every vanity girl in the industry has been trying to get under his pants, so far, no one has won the trophy. I’m secretly the lucky one, although I treat him solely as the obscure object of my desire. Yes, yes, I must admit, I considered him for the boyfriend post for a second, but he was quickly demoted to the boytoy level since I’d given him a chance and he didn't managed it well.

Back to fuck buddy basis: he walks in the door with entrée and dessert. We drink wine at my little dinner table and laugh under dim lights. He washes the dishes and immediately gets naked in one smooth move, all his clothing falling off in a matter of seconds. I find it endearing. He stands bare in my living room with a bright smile and emerald eyes full of tenderness. It makes me love him for the time being. I take him by the hand and lead him to the slaughterhouse. We spoon and watch a few episodes of Family Guy. making out while still paying attention to the TV show, long kisses interrupted by laughter. We eventually get lost in our bodies, turn off the TV and fuck for a while. It used to take longer. He couldn't cum for a while We eventually figured out that Planned Parenthood condoms sucked, with the new upgraded Whole Foods Japanese condoms we are done in half hour or so. 

I used to have more fun with him, it's now finally getting old. His ripped body has been looking dull to my predator eyes, his smile doesn't soften me as much anymore. I guess, back when I considered him as a potential boyfriend it had more to it. I used to feel a buzz around him, now it's just a hard dick who kisses really well and comes with a smoking body, a delicious laughter too, he does have a very sweet child-like streak. See, when I put down on paper, he's great, everything I could ask for, but I just don't get the thrill from him anymore.

We used to spoon, but lately I've been only forking him.

Farewell

I spotted him first thing in the morning. I approached him randomly about some parking matter and we simultaneously had that split second that runs for what seems to be hours, when you first look into someone's eyes that you can feel there is a storm brewing your way.

The five day traveling job suddenly became exciting, and it was still 4am into a foggy first day of shooting.

Initially, I ditched the dirty thoughts with reasonable explanations to my reservations about dating coworkers. I avoided looking. I kept myself busy. I noticed him again. And again and again and again. He would seat right next to me and look straight into my face and chuckle while asking me something. I was trying to focus on the job. I tried to be short on my answers and not look at him too much. I looked.

He was gorgeous. He had taken out the beanie and the jacket since we're inside the location, by that point. His jaws had a strong square angle and his puffy lips hugged his almost childish smile. His teeth were slightly crooked, what made him even more endearing. His scruffy dirty-blond beard looked so soft it begged to be rubbed against my lips and his emerald eyes pierced through my thoughts. He was stunning. Every muscle of his body was the right size; his posture neared a Greek God. He did have his share of Greek. He was Croatian, from a far far away Island of the Adriatic Sea. He was built and tall, and genuine and somehow even pure. He was a grown ass man. A men's man, malicious and flirtatious; tender and dangerous. He was enigma.

I needed to hear him. I needed to get to know him and look out for every red flag I could find to excuse myself from falling into another precocious relationship.

We ran into each other at a convenience store after work. He tried to scare me from behind an isle but all he could get was a huge smile popping out of my face. There was no way out. This train was bound to glory.

We kissed that night. I've run into a different coworker at the hotel elevator after the convenience store encounter and ended up heading to the room everyone was hanging out. Soon, I came to find out that the room belonged to my Greek Statue. He came out of the shower in towel and stopped for a second startled that I was right there hanging out in his room. He chuckled. He had that "you know what I'm thinking" look, I'm pretty sure I had it too.

Everyone eventually left, and as predictable as it gets, in about ten minutes we are all over each other. I liked being under his body weight; I liked his kiss, his taste, his smile. I decided to head to my room before it got out of hand, just so I could save some anticipation for later. I didn't want to have it too easy; I didn't want to lose my curiosity that quick, not with him.

The job went as well as it could get, even though we went through some heavy rain and even hail, all it mattered was that he was always close by to inspire my naughty thoughts.

Every spare moment it was all about watching him work
Him carrying his Art Department heavy shit around
Him with a screw gun or a chainsaw working on wood projects
Him driving that 5 ton monster truck like a Mini
Everything so small compared to his scale of man power

His masculinity intimidated me
And that couldn't be more of a turn on
I've never expected to get wet watching a man chew and spit tobacco
He made me. Again and again and again
His voice on the radio
His interaction with his coworkers
His way of just being
Everything about that man was a massive turn on to me

So it comes out that he's my neighbor
No, seriously, blocks away kind of neighbor
Which makes it that much easier to turn it into a weekly basis thing
Escalating to a many times a week kind of deal

We have fun
We ran together
We had brunches in cool cafes
And dinners we cooked for hours and hours
We love desserts and we were always hunting for a new one
We watched Seinfeld and Family Guy like we had never watched it without each other

We traveled separately
And missed each other like crazy
But we shared that with each other very subtly

We fell for each other but we played it
We longed the same things but we hid it
We wanted more but none of us brought it up
We secretly knew it
But we were too cool to be the first one to give it away

Then our time expired
The games and the lack of sincerity ripped us apart
We built a dull routine
Of no first-hand answered calls and late callbacks
We became unavailable and cynical
Eventually, all that was left was the reminisce of what it could have been

It's too late
We both know
We don't want to let it go
We don't want to let it go
We still see each other

It's been almost six months
It's been too long
I now want to let it go
I still have fun being around him
But it's not enough anymore

So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye

BOYS

He is trying to impress me. I can tell by his always halfway-open eyelids reinforcing his cocky way of letting the words come out of his mouth; it is all part of his mating technique.

He knows from the start he can’t actually ever have me, so he avoids, as best as he can, wanting me. Still, I can see through the smoke he insists on blowing; he wants me. Or at least, he wants me to want him. I have fun watching him playing me. He complains about my proximity but keeps himself around at every possible occasion. He disdains out loud the things he is secretly compelled about me. He stares when I’m not looking. I’m looking. I make him nervous; he moves faster when I’m around and often makes clumsy moves.

I enjoy the twisted power I have over him. I let him believe he owns me. I almost wish I were into him just so I could fall into his amateur trap and fulfill his macho fantasies. I wish I could build him, but I’ve been over that “saving men” part of my life for a while. I’m not into him, but I like being the obscure object of his desire. It takes me back to my younger days when men were admittedly boys and I was naive enough to believe I was smart enough…just like now. We never are smart enough.

He throws angry elaborated sentences out in the air totally uncalled for. He moves things around in the truck and shifts his balls from side to side consistently. He lights a cigarette intensely and blows the smoke slowly, looking into nowhere. He’s choosing his moves. He feels rough. He busts out a blazé attitude not convincing enough to overshadow his concealed enthusiasm. He asks things about me indirectly and every comment I make echoes in his brain; he keeps bringing them back.

He picks up a six-steps ladder from the gate of the truck and throws over his left shoulder in a quick move; the lit cigarette is mounted on the side of his mouth, smoke coming through the other side straight into one of his eyes, which is now squinting. He holds the ladder with his left hand, squeezing the cigarette between his right hand index and middle fingers while pulling it away from his lips. He rearranges the ladder on his shoulder and about two inches of his midriff sneaks out of the shirt. I can see his pubic hair running up into his abs. I keep checking him out through his whole train of actions. I know he knows I’m watching. I allow him to know. I like feeding him.

- I’m used to this kind of shit…

- Showing off to chicks?

- Caring ladders.

- Fireman?

- ACs installations, had to carry a lot of heavy crap.

- Oh, wow… – I chuckle within.

- Yep... I’m a cop though…I mean, I could have been.

- How did you end up on a movie set?

- I went to the Police Academy, you know. - The words "Police academy" announced in surround sound - I did it for over six months… I almost finished...three months and I could have been done.

He starts carrying the ladder away to set, and right before disappearing
behind the working trucks he shouts:

- And I was a Boy Scout too!

Intuition

You got to trust your body
To pay attention to the things you know
Even before you're able to understand them

You must follow your gut
That tight knot in your core
Squeezing all you insist to convince yourself
That is too early to believe

It's within
It's right here
Listen to it

Road Trip

Lets go to a Hotel
Fuck
Hike
And eat well

Backdrop

So I'm here staring at a set being built, watching the process of prepping a project and thinking about our process, our project.

First, I must say, it feels so good to have you as the backdrop of my days. You are always around my thoughts, constantly intruding the live animated foreground of these singular scenarios I float around. You reside in my brain, dancing through the seven holes on my head, swimming freely through my currents.

Still, I'm once again, a bit uneasy about your up coming visit. Never worrying about if things go well, but dreading the possibility of lacking chemistry. It's almost like I'm resting on the taste of you in my mouth, so pleased with the idea of watering this garden of giant sunflowers, that just considering the idea of looking at you and not clicking into all my perverted thoughts makes me cling. Chemistry does hit right away.

There is a lot to do with life baggage and past experiences; it has to do with opening my vulnerability and investing my heart into someone that I don't even know how it feels being around. And honestly, it has a lot to do with the longing for sexual compatibility - which is major- , because a friendship is obviously already here.

I'm afraid of picking you up at the airport and wanting to run the other way and not knowing how to walk away, if that's the case, without creating an awkward situation.

Jeez, I feel silly for over thinking, and I'd love to freeze these fearful thoughts into ice cubes, but I guess it's natural to hesitate due to the circumstances.

There is much I haven't told you and time will come to share those thingies, only then you may finally grasp where all these cloudy feelings are coming from. In the mean time I'll keep welcoming you into my sea.

Let it be!

Long Distance

Seating aside, picturing me and you laying in bed, getting lost into each other's eyes; me and you just learning each other's tides, gently peeling our layers.

I'm here yearning the texture of your touch; the sound of your laughter rippling through my ears, the taste of your tongue in my mouth.
I've been wondering how warm is your kiss.

I feel that certain rawness of an infatuated soul. Getting truly involved requires vulnerability. I've been drunk of you.

In my brain I save vivid portraits of your expressions, mannerisms, your ways of being you. I think about you floating around your world, riding your bike through rails, walking up the hills, talking to your peeps, focused in your classes. I wonder what color shirt you're wearing, how does your jeans seats into your legs and hips, what kind of shoes are hugging your feet.

30 more hours until I duck dive into your arms.

Preceeding Love

What if I could free myself from the longing for love
And if I first, could truly look within
Taking care of the present I have facing me

What if I could focus on the things I already have
And the qualities I want to improve

I want to be the best I can be

Read more
Write more
Create more
Run bigger mountains
Swim with the current

I want to be a more dedicated worker
And allow myself to learn everyday

I want to forget routine and an tired eye
I want to see everyday for the first time
Paying more attention to the sun
To the people around me
To this world that reveals more and more of itself every second

I want to sing along
And transform every bad feeling into flower or production
I want to use every neuron of my brain and every muscle in my body
I want to be useful
And sincere

I want to never stop
Never get tired

I want to forget rules and conventions
And live my own path

I want to be independent but tender
Strong but vulnerable
Tough but fragile

I want to be enigma
Morphing every day
Transforming
Transcending into the best of me

Great Love

Longing a great love
Longing that feeling of devastation
Yellow butterflies flying around my stomach

I want to love
I want to love and let go
And be one but also two
I want to be his accomplice
His partner in love and crime
His woman

I want passion and dreams
Sweat and tears
Pleasure and laughter
I want his taste in my mouth

I want to live together
To grow together
To one day have little ones

I want to improve and inspire each other
To be there for each other
To never forget individuality

I want to have my life
But also a life of two

I want to know his smell from miles away
And lose myself in our sex
I want to be passionate
Affectionate

I want to be the apple of his eye
To have the chills just thinking about him
To French kiss him for hours and hours

I want to share my last piece
And nurture him when needed
I want to accept his flaws
I want to earn him

I'm ready for a great love

Recomeço mais uma vez
Tudo de novo
Nada de novo
HUmildade escarrada em meu rosto
Andar para trás para andar para frente

Otimismo fundamental
Tenho que ser positiva

Começar de novo
Mais uma vez

Mind Game

Same planet
Different ground
We still share the same moon
Even though different stars align our skies

Weird dynamic this long distance thing has
The lack of communication brings drowning consequences
If we don't talk for a day
Or if it's just petty talk with no love
It feels really ordinary
And I slowly drift away from it afterward

What is left is a feeling only nurtured by memories
By the day, they turn more and more yellow
The drawer where you reside gets dustier
The voice on the phone gets less familiar

We've been lacking romance
Sometimes it feels like an old friend
That I keep insisting not to forget

I don't want one more friend
I don't want a mild relationship simply to take away my heart

There is no longing for someone just to fulfill that space
Someone to bottle up my sexuality and love
And take no sips out of it

The joy becomes questions
The certainty melts into thousands of little wonders
And I begin to ask myself what am I doing

It's that recurrent thought that keeps coming back when there is no excitement
Why am I holding on to so little?

When this all feels just ordinary
I end up trying to relive the days we shared
To refresh the way I felt with you
I keep trying to remember how you feel against my skin
How you taste
How you smell

I could bear not knowing your smell anymore
Even not being able to draw your face in my eyes
But I can't bear lacking on excitement
I don't want to become oblivious

You become a distant voice through the phone cord
Unrevealed words on my phone screen
An electronic reminiscence of the man I chose to see

What's the point
Better just uncommit
And let it be

Cultural Influence

Aging has been changing my character profoundly
There is a new "giving" side of me rising

lately I started this thing of voluntarily helping random people
Despite of my up-bringing by a proudly politically incorrect dad
With his remarkable statements such as "nothing worst than doing favors"
I've been very surprised by my change of behavior

It'd be ok if it was only that one single case of helping wasted Britney Spears puke in a Hollywood bar
I know, I know! She is still a human being though...I had to
But anyway, this past Friday I caught myself literally car chasing a thug that had just mugged and old man which I'd probably never be able to find again

I'm serious

I was coming out of a parking garage
Out of the blue, I saw a man running out of The Grove letting stuff fall from underneath his shirt
Security was all over the place running after him
And a shocked well dressed old man checking his pockets hopelessly

I couldn't believe I was the only one actually with the sight of the thief
And even though I was doing an important run for work with very limited time
I surprisingly decided to put my tasks aside
And go catch the bad wolf

After driving through narrow alleys
Doing all kinds of illegal turns
While relating every detail to 911
Which - weirdly enough - advised me to keep chasing him
Despite the fact that I am just an ordinary civilian
Unarmed and alone
And we had no idea of how dangerous he might be

After watching him changing clothes while running
And eventually noticing me
The crazy girl in the little Civic
Following him like a mad cow
After telling 911 that I eventually would have to give up
And move on with my daily tasks
And being intensively advised not to stop the chase
I finally see a cop car
Which I repeatedly try to stop while they pretended not to see me

Eventually I had to jump out of my car and run after the cops
While I potentially could have had lost sight of my dear thug
I was then told by them that they couldn't help me

"But wait, there he is, see, can you guys please just catch him, he's 20 feet way"
"Are you still with 911 on the phone?"
"Yes Sir, They told me to chase him while waiting for you guys"
"Well, you're doing a great job, just make sure you keep chasing him and don't hang up with 911. We can't help you, but have a nice day"

And just like that, the so-called heroes drove away with no qualms
Eating their sugary donuts
laughing at the funny immigrant
that probably inspired by her border crossing skills
Was now running after the bad guys

They left their task to me
Just like I was the one supposed to serve and protect
To drop my ordinary life
And spend my Friday afternoon catching a thief with my bare hands

I was shocked
I sat back in my driver seat
Watching my beloved friend drift away into the streets of Hollywood
With what was left of the old man's belongings under his shirt
While I felt so important and impotent at the same time

I began wondering since when this Hero conduct
Started building inside me
And more importantly
Why???

Coming from a 3rd world country
Watching violence through my little eyes since early age
Having been mugged at gun point several times
Car jacked,kidnapped and all the violence one can think of
Having always behaved like a fragile and friendly victim
I was very surprised with my gut reaction

It felt that being in US
Having safety as one of the biggest reasons
That I feel better here than in Rio
I felt like I couldn't allow impunity
To shatter my "American-way-of-life"

Perhaps, since living in such a citizen-oriented culture
Where people actually respect each others rights
And impunity doesn't work as well as in Brazil
Perhaps, I've been becoming more caring

I now let cars pass in front of me even though they are skipping the whole line
I respect the majority of the traffic rules
Even not crossing a red stop light at 4 in the morning
I don't honk
I tell a random peasant that a $100 fell from his pocket
I think twice before having some PDA
I give 25% tips
I cordially say "Hi, how are you?" to people I don't know
I say "excuse-me" and "thank you" for any given reason
I don't bump into people while walking on the street
I actually respect the arm-length rule of personal space
I even helped and old lady cross a busy street the other day
Strange, man
So unlikely coming from my sly/only-care-for-your-ass cultural background

Here I am, voluntarily becoming an exemplary citizen
What the fuck?
I can hear my dad saying
"Are you trying to be on the News????"

Sorry dad, I'll try not to disappoint you too much

Cresci
Amadureci
Mudei

Não tenho mais tempo para desperdício
Para joguinho
Palhaçada

Sou mulher para caralho
Pacote completo
Cheia de possibilidades
Flexível

Mas não me empurra
Não se faz de desavisado
E não tente me confundir

Não sou de meio termo
Mais ou Menos não vale a pena

Quero tudo ou nada
Então sai do muro
Fode ou sai de cima
A fila anda

Vai se fazer de gostoso
Vai sobrar a pangarezada de audiência
Eu pulo fora rapidinho

Quando menos viu
Cadê Teresa?

Que pena

Pet Phones

Weird relationships people establish with their phones

The other day I woke up and my phone was pitch-black,
unworkable and seemly un-fixable
I desperately tried to turn it off and on
I took the battery out and put it back in
I connected to my car charger
I watch the little red light go on - hopehopehope
And immediately off

Heavy dark-grayed clouds stormed over my little spot on the freeway

I felt my whole world falling down into a gray blurry
I wondered if the boy-toys called twenty five times even though it wasn't even weekend
I wondered how many work calls I missed
How many e-mails I wouldn't know I got until I get to the office in 20 endless minutes
What if something happened to my family in Brazil
What if I get into an accident, how am I going to call someone????
I felt an immediate urge to call all my friends
Acquaintances
All the people I haven't talked in years were now suddenly a necessity to be reached

I felt lonely in my car
Unreachable
I got stressed out

After many frustrated costumer service calls and all kinds of different procedures to follow
After listening to the hideous automatic voice giving me every option I don't want
and listening to old kylle Minogue electronically singing badly out of my lousy speakers
After even contemplating sending the broken-english representative to hell
I decided to plug my phone charger into the wall outlet as a last try
Just because I had to know I done it all under my power

At first it tricked me for a second
The light went on and off again as the first time
I got so disappointed that I left right there
Connected to the outlet
Simply having given up
And all of a sudden
No shit
There it was the bright and shinny little fucker ironically smiling at me
Perfectly functioning

I realized that I'm so obsessed on having it handy that over the whole year that I've had this particular crack-berry I'd never let it completely run out of battery
It was the first time that my phone ever died

I then realized that
I feed it better than I water my plants
I maintain it better than my shaving schedule
I sleep with it right next to my head
Hoping to sleep deep enough not to wake up with its notifications
And it's the first thing I look at when I open my eye in the morning
(Am I lacking a romantic relationship in my life???)
It's better taken care of than my ex-boyfriend's cats
It's more valuable than my wallet (really????)

I can hear from miles away the first vibrations before the ring comes out
Excitement pumping my chest
Who is it?
Who could it be?
Sudden hope of don't know what

I get the news
I share my pics
I e-mail my dad in Brazil
I sex-text the loved one
I check my calendar and say no to jobs I want
I play video games waiting for my Starbucks
I conference call/Video call/Ichat/Mapquest/save passwords/set alarms/file people's personal info/Google anything I can think of
I live through this little technological brick on my hands

Walking around tinseltown I watch random people speaking out loud to no one
Too involved in their blue-tooth conversations
Lost with all the different voices in their heads
Having their calls dropped
Three people on call-wait
E-mails running into text messages into peoples messages into live people words
Bombs over Bagdah in their ears
Every little sound coming out of it announcing possibilities
All through that tiny hole
All at once


I spend more time on my phone than with anyone else
Fucking modernity
So connected to people's gadgets
So far from their live presences



P.S.: How ironic life is, guess which job I'm working while I write this: Iphone...

A job went away

Reciclagem
Mudança
Transição

Corrente estagnada atrás de pedregulho

Não é verdade!
Perspectiva é a alma do comportamento

Oportunidade que vai para nova porta poder abrir
Cada chave uma decisão

Faz da merda adubo
Encara problema com solução
Entende que da crise vem a oportunidade
O crescimento

Respeita a calmaria
Aguenta a instabilidade

Poupe
Seja sensata com dinheiro
Aprende!

You

In my chest
all at once
Revolution

Two souls evolving into phenomenon
Every particle in communion by osmoses
Together we are empowered

You full moon changing my tide
Sterling ocean-blue eyes shining my brain's sky
Pipeline wave pleasantly breaking into every grain of my sand ground

You massive earthquake
Endless aftermath

Your voice Bossa Nova in my ears
Each syllable smoothly resonating through my cells
Jazz Sax playing in my soul

Our rivers merge into an ocean
Disregarding edges
Unforgiving limits

Too early for expectations, plans, ideas
Great just because of the intensity of such an easy feeling
Disregarding agendas and possibilities
Forgetting distance and realities

It doesn't matter tomorrow
Either any possible prospect

I feed you in me just for the sake of your taste in my tongue
I write you now just because i enjoy you swimming through my mind

I'm not scared either anxious
I'm just desiring you for the pleasure that comes with it
Desire that immediately becomes production

And if tomorrow we don't see each other anymore
If life draws us separate paths
It worthed enough for me to feel all this to the point of
Inevitably shoving these words into a blank paper

I write you because it wasn't enough keeping this golden storm in my body
I'm writing simply because I have to

Namorar Melhor

Chega de repetição
Quero fazer tudo diferente
Cansei dos mesmos ciclos

Quero amor duradouro
que chega para ficar
to exausta de enjoar, cansar, desanimar

Quero aprender a alimentar mais amor menos paixão
Crescer juntos coisa e tal
gerar história
construir estrutura
Compartilhar a vida

Quero namoro para anos
para vida
Quero tesão que não vai embora
Cansei de infinito enquanto dure

Quero amar muito
Ser cúmplice
Parceria
Quero admirar meu amor
Amá-lo
Nos inspirarmos um ao outro

Quero aprender a me comprometer melhor
A aceitar
A sobreviver o difícil

Cansei do "homem do ano"
Do homem da hora

Cansei de descartar
Jogar para o alto
Deixar para tráz

Quero reaprender a amar

Fuck Buddie

Somos um para o outro dois putinhos
Nos vendendo nossos corpos
Por prazer promíscuo
Tenho idéia vaga do que reside por baixo da sua superfície
Meus olhos te traduzem em carne fresca

Quero seu gemido e corpo
Quero seu gozo e só
Quero você sem conseqüências
Sem amanhã

Depois de meia noite te vejo abóbora
Te uso
Eu, usufruto do teu prazer

Quero você pelado
Rasgado
Se esfregando no meu corpo suado

Quero você inteiro só por hoje
Sem sobrenome
Sem parentes
Sem história

Quero seu sexo extravasado em perversões
Quero pensar duas vezes antes de dizer teu nome
Quero você sem nome

Te vejo lindo
Dourado
Escaneando da sua altura a mulherada perdida
Te vi lá do outro lado
No pedestal que você constrói toda vez que sai da toca
Se achando o famoso que a carreira condiz

Não quero saber da novela passada
Nem da mulher famosa com que foi casado
Não quero sua glória
Menos ainda sua fama
Só quero teu corpo pelado gritando pelo meu

Não precisa se fazer de inocente
Nem de ser Querido sem ser
Esqueça palavrinhas dobradas
Promessas vazias
Só queremos nossos contornos

Talvez estejamos subestimando um ao outro
Mesmo até estejamos desperdiçando amizade
Saudade
E tudo mais que dois humanos podem acrescentar um ao outro
Pouco me importa

Sei seus motivos
Limito os meus aos mesmos
Não precisamos de caridade
Falsa ternura

Venho procurando um homem objeto há um tempo
Parece bom encaixe

Me pega safado, apertado, me morde
Me devassa e me amassa
Me arregaça em fantasias eróticas

Quero você jogado em minha cama
Sorrindo cansado
Olhos dois diamantes latejados

Somos um para o outro puro fetiche
Pura possibilidade
Seu corpo pesa gostoso sobre o meu

Quero desejo sem necessidade
Sem compromisso
Quero seu beijo por horas sem freio
Sem precisar saber da sua infância

Não me confunda
Estamos no mesmo barco
Queremos a mesma coisa um do outro

Então se deixe
Se largue em meus braços só por hoje
E para o amanhã
Só o que sobra são boas lembranças

The Question

Monday, September 10, 2007 – Immediately after the shock

The Question


I had to ask

He told me there is someone new
Someone that fits better
He said they have more in common
It's an age thing he said
It's too early for him to say he's in love

I was joking when I asked about a new love
He answered yes
My body chocked up in a tight knot
I was kidding
He wasn't
I fought the massive heartbeat with kind words
Not really kind
More like a blazé - far from blazé - inquire
I saw my heart pouring through the seven holes in my head

I had to shut myself

I got utterly curious
I got utterly hurt
I have no right to be hurt
I just wasn't prepared

I'm seating here battling against my brain
Battling to let it go
I stare at all the frivolous work in front of me
Everything looking so secondary
Floating around my table
My brain is everywhere but here

I was still thinking about him
I've wondered if I was still in love
The conflict between reality and potential getting me stuck in the middle

I was in love with the man I saw on him
It wasn't a mistaken idea of who he is
But a very clear notion of the man he hides inside

I got driven away by the waste of that great man
That for so long has been left alone in an old dusty drawer

I couldn't bear not having the best of him
I wasn't settling for the reminiscences of a Viking warrior
Turn into a sad kitten

It's like going black - so they say
Once you go there you can't step back

I wanted to do the best for him
I wanted to be the best for him
It wasn't enough
Perhaps it was too much
It just wasn't right

It's been a long farewell
I haven't gotten completely over
It embarrasses me to admit it
But I haven't

Until now I was still swimming on "ifs"

The other day I watched a movie called Dedication
It turn me inside out
For a second I forgot all the facts
I felt overflowed with an empty hope
It filled me up with wishful thoughts
Since then, I chose to remember the best of us

I remembered him full of himself
That one night he met my friends
He was so freaking well put together
Blue sweater, "Italian pure silk" beige blazer, new jeans…
Tanned
Happy

He was eleven feet tall that night
Golden and self-assured
He stood quiet through dinner but he was transpiring confidence
He was shining
He is brilliant

He was on his peek during those weeks
We were eating out, beaching, taking especial photos
We were even talking about dancing naked

I was so proud to see the improvement
I was so stunned with the new layers
I was so happy with us

I had the best intentions


Suddenly everything became blurry
I didn't see it coming
I couldn't tell what was going inside him
I only learned it when it was all already blocked
It was all already gone
I tried every way I could

I couldn't take it
I had to leave

I admit I got caught up in the forecast
Everything I felt we were becoming together pushed me in
I was astonished and happy with the You
With the Us I believed we were living
And I pushed it hard without noticing
Too hard
But I refuse to take sole responsibility

The other day, while complimenting an ex-boyfriend that had such great influence in my life, I was told by him that he refused to take the credit
He said

We all influence each other
One chooses to take it positively or negatively


I wanted Erik to be on his best
It felt like I wanted more than he did


Love is not enough

Divino

Quero céu aberto
Sem pirambeira nem murada
De onde posso ver todo hemisfério que carrega meu chão

Vez em quando danço em circúlos desatados de braços abertos brincando com o vento
Fazendo do ar meu namorado mais antigo
Sei então que sou feita da mesma terra do mesmo céu do mesmo ar que respiro
Água corrente que nossos corpos são

De cabeça mergulho em parafusos nesse oceanão azul
Viro água-pedra-peixe
Esqueço dos limites da pele que proteje minha carne
Ignoro minhas fronteiras

Sou fluído divino das mesmas partículas que formam toda matéria
Sou planeta
Somos Universo

Somos todos um só organismo pulsante
Transbordante de dor e alegria amor e guerra luz e escuridão
Somos uma série de eventos afortunados
Um causando no outro e no outro e no outro
Num dominó infinito de afetos e consequências
Desencadeamos um ao outro tempestades e correntezas planetárias

Com isso todo humano é divino
Tudo que constítue esse mundo é por sí só um componente da mesma célula gigante
Dessa misteriosa galáxia
Desse Deus sem forma exata que mora em cada coisinha desse mundão

Venho encontrando o Divino em mim
Deus mora na gente

E me desculpe vovúxa amada
Isso não tem nada haver com religião

Amor Crescido

Amor é comprometimento
Amar é compreender
Readaptar
Aceitar

Hoje amo diferente
Paciência escapoliu do esconderijo
E virou dona do tempo

Amor todo amudurecido
Se amadurecendo

Te amo tranquila
Balanço de rede em praia deserta
Não tem correria de mundo moderno

Amor simples que sabe de si
Que não tem medo de estabilidade
De segurança
De consequência

E todo passado virou paixão sorrateira
Tudo que foi fica meio vazio
Palavra que não cabe no conceito

Venho aprendendo a amar
Nos vejo
E arrepio diferença

Formamos raíz
Regamos
Somos sementes

E cada dia nossos márgens ficam mais amorfas
Somos Um que forma dois indivíduos
Somos dois aprendendo esse Um paralelo
Sou sua
Deixa vir a correnteza