A Bola Adormecida

But I have a talent, a wonderful thing *

Night, pub, two friends, a recently met boy, a guitar.

The silence set itself in to listen to the magic he did when his fingers soothed the guitar strings. He wanted ideas and help.

For a brief moment, when the lyrics for a brazilian song she hadn't heard for years popped into her head, the duet came out as if rehearsed. And she could feel in the eyes of that stranger the twinkle she had missed for a long time. She could still do her own magic trick and needed nothing more than the vocal chords.

The seduction felt great, knowing that no one had noticed it, felt even better. The smile they exchanged when the song was through said it all.

* Thank you for the music, ABBA

Were you? Ever?

(If you don't want to put up with all the conversation, go directly to minute 1:47.)

Scared of the raven's saying

I let you slide, once again, out of my arms.
I tell myself I had to: it wasn't right - not there and then - there were more important things to think about - people we shouldn't disappoint.

If all that is true why do I feel empty and terrified of having had my last chance?

I don't need to talk to you, because this conversation has occured so many times in my head I know exactly everything you'll say. No excuses, no problems, no dramas - no dialogue.

My rationalizing (and keeping myself busy) is the best help I have no to think about the stupid things you do and say to me.

Don't ever feel sorry for kissing me, I know I'm not.

I'm just not that into you anymore

There was once a day (a week... a year... a whole life) when your every move was of most importance to me. I used to dream about you - sleeping and awake -, I used know your smell, your smile, your walk and your hands by heart.

Now, you still make me tremble, I'm still weak at your slightest touch, but there's something different about me. I know I'll always be nervous just by catching a glimpse of you - that's a fact I cannot change - but I'm also aware that there is a world without you. I could never do that before.

I still expect you to call sometimes, I continue to be drawn to you when I feel you near, I can remember in detail all the times you touched me.

But now I'm stronger, older, wiser. You kisses are still the best kisses but not the only ones, your skin is still glued to mine but I can imagine someone else's now and then, I don't want to read into your "signs" anymore because they're misleading and I don't feel like believing a lie all over again.

The best thing about you is you don't make any promises, so I don't have anything to look forward to, ever.

Today

It has already been five years... who could have imagined it?
It has been a great ride!

Congratulations Jess.

Contratempos

É a areia a voar lentamente quando quero que ela fuja depressa. És tu a assumir o que pensas quando eu já encerrei o assunto. Sou eu a avançar pelo escuro quando tu decidiste apagar a luz. Não estamos de acordo. Descubro que as coisas podem mudar quando tu confessas não estar pronto para outro rumo e creio que nunca estaremos em harmonia porque me dás medo. Tropeço em mim quando te procuro por aqui. Mas os vazios que nunca preencheste continuam estranhamente à tua espera. São os gestos que não valem mais que mil palavras. São as palavras que não se esquecem apesar dos gestos. Somos nós em dissonância com o que queremos. És tu a fugir lentamente quando eu só quero voar depressa.

Hoje, em dois segundos fui dos Bombeiros ao Liceu há 12 anos atrás.

(Já não me lembrava que não há nada melhor que fazer rappel.)

Sobre a felicidade

Estas mãos pequeninas são perfeitas. Desenham girafas e jardins, casas e estufas, espantalhos, vendedores de gelados e carrinhos de supermercado. Escrevem todos os nomes com todo o primor, escrevem o que for preciso com as letras do alfabeto. Estas mãos pequeninas abrigam o mundo. Guardam carinhos e sonhos, palmas de alegria e projectos audazes, tolices e o futuro. E são o lugar mais seguro para guardar também a felicidade.

New found best friend

When you're feeling lonely and consequently sad, you need something to make you escape the reality outside and put a smile on your face.

Lorelai does that for me. She keeps me company, she makes me laugh, she helps me practice my English by speaking astoundingly fast, ... I think, I laugh, I cry, I feel alive watching the Gilmores.

Of course every character is amazing in its own way. Kirk is the unexpected, Luke is the reliable one, Emily and Richard are the protective (grand)parents that make it imposible to breath, Lane and Sookie are inocent and kind. But Lorelai is Lorelai.

You can relate to her in every aspect of her being, you feel her as a person and not as a character - and that's so hard to achieve. Even when you know she is wrong, you search for ways of saying she is right, because you don't want her to suffer, you don't want your friend to make mistakes that can cost her in the future.

I'm addicted to the Gilmore Girls, and I only have one more season to go, but I'm sure this show will be on rerun on my DVD player for a long time.

The one

How can the right one be so wrong for me?

The only skill you need to be a good teacher is to care

Acabaram-se os meus truques. Não tenho de onde tirar mais coelhos que pulam entre magias. E no entanto, não sei desistir.

Keep on keeping on

Copenhaga? Códigos de barras aos milhares, corações escondidos por toda a parte, as confusões entre a Central Station e Kobenhavn, centenas de bicicletas a pedirem um passeio e aquelas pedras onde descansa uma sereia.

You gotta have faith

I don't believe in you. Not in your smile, not in your witty comments, not in your music, not in our invigorating debates, not in the way you look at me all the time: sighing, without saying the truth.

This is probably the best situation in the world and we'll never go a step further but I have to admit I would really enjoy knowing something more - I'm just afraid of not knowing what to do with so much information.

Why now?

Her: Do you want something?

Him: I do.

Her: So...?

Him: I just don't know what it is right now.

Her: There I can't help.

Him: You know what I mean. I don't know what I was looking for, but I do know what I want... in life.

The damaged wishful look he gave her made her feel uncomfortable, though sure for once.

Her: You can't always get what you want. - She started to sing.

Him: Why don't I try?

Her: You're afraid to get what you need, maybe...

Him: I have what I need. - Silence. - But that's not what I want anymore.

The tension became unbearable and the hundreds of running horses inside her chest pushed her to storm out of the room.

May

For a month I'm turning into English mode. Studying just isn't enough, it is practice that makes perfect. And I can't take anything less... right?