Once upon a time there was a little girl called Maria Irani. She was the oldest child. The one responsible for the other siblings and for the house chores.
She used to live in a small town. Mostly rural. She worked hard since an early age.

Maria was a beautiful girl. With tan skin, blond and wavy hair and a dark shade of green eyes. She had a perfect body and the boys would fall over for her.
She had this sad look in her eyes and a wide, honest and shinning smile in her lips.
Nobody could turn their heads away from such a pretty girl.

On the other side of the same town. Used to live the youngest boy of his family. He lost his father when still a baby. Living on a farm, always working so hard to help bringing food home. He learned how to be rational and not ever let the emotions take over anything.
He wasn't the most reasonable person. But he had a special way to deal with animals. Specially horses. And everybody would come after him to ask for favors. As it was a mostly rural town. Horses were vary valuable at that time.

His name was Benedito. And he was a not so tall boy. Skin darkened from the exposure to the sun and the hard work at the farm. Light green eyes. Very expressive face. Mostly serious and impenetrate.

He was a cowboy. Used to participate on Rodeos and used to be very good at it.

One day, while on top of his horse, his light green eyes met the dark green eyes of Maria Irani.
The time stopped...

Benedito was back to his horse, which was jumping frenetically trying to take him down. But Benedito was too good to let it happen and won over the animal.

Afterwards...Benedito saw Maria Irani again. But also saw a few more guys trying to catch her attention and buying her goods. He soon got frustrated as he didn't have any money to buy anything to her and had nothing to say to start a conversation. He was shy and had such a pride to carry. He would never make a move at that moment.

Maria Irani went home thinking about the serious guy on the horse. And Benedito went home punishing himself for being such a coward.

Days passed by...and they lived in the same small town. An encounter wasn't impossible. It became very possible..and very often.
They couldn't believe everytime they walked by each other.

Benedito once tried a little greeting. Taking off his hat and looking her in the eyes. She responded with a killer smile. The smile that took his breath away.

Benedito thought "I need to win this girl."
Maria Irani thought "I wish he noticed me".

As they walked by each other, they sometimes would even talk shortly. Maria Irani thought he was such a show off, but she was in love. She already knew he was the love of her life.

Talking to her friends she used to say "I'm in love with him, but I'm just a prize for him. Just one more prize so he can show off to his friends."

Soon enough, he asked her to be his girlfriend. And sooner than that, he proposed to her.

Maria's mind said "No, he doesn't deserve me. He drinks too much, he is not serious about anything but his animals. I'm not for him." but her heart was such a fool. And she said YES.

Maria Irani was 16 years old when she got married to Benedito, which was 20 years old.

The marriage was always disturbed. A lot of fights, verbal and physical agressiviness, cheating, drinking and hard working and omission from Maria.

They had 5 kids. Fatima, Benedito Jose, Sueli, Alessandra and a long time after they had Marcus Paulo. Together with Fatima's first daughter Najara, that was born a week before Marcus Paulo.

They had a life full of stories. The kids say that Benedito was the most loving one and Maria was the most emotional distant one when dealing with them.

Troubles, problems, very bad behavior and a lot of omissions. The biggest loss of their lives happened when Benedito Jose, the second kid. Died on a car accident. Jose was Benedito's partner and companion. The one that learned everything from his dad. And the one that would settle Benedito's temper down. After this....Benedito was never the same. He wouldn't show how much he was suffering, but he started becoming a better person.

After 17 years, Benedito now is a loving and considerate husband and dad. And now he is able to cry over his problems, fears and guilty. And he is able to be the grandfather of 6 grandkids.

This is my tribute to my grandparents. The couple that didn't have time to be the best grandparents a kid could ask for, but the couple that on their best are the grandparents that I love unconditionally and am proud of.

I just got my flight back home request from the agency.
It made me get a little nervous. I feel weak...like I'm gonna faint.

I am super happy that I'll get to see my family, and eat the food that I love. But....I don't want to leave.

I've got this anguish now in my chest....that makes me want to burst in tears. They are so sttuborn and don't fall....so this feeling keeps growing and taking place everywhere.

I want to stay here........Brazil is not home for me. It's a vacation place. Ok...San Francisco is a vacation place also....but waaaaay better. Living here is like living a dream. Everything you want and need...you can find here. My dream is close to the end now.

There is no word....nothing...to describe the pain in my chest right now.
That's exactly how it feels.....empty....hallow......

Random Thoughts

Today is a beautiful day.
The sky is clear. A blue that sends me beyond my mind can reach.
I sit by the bridge, and I observe everything around. The trees are changing colors, the leaves are falling. The flowers are still open and they smell nicely. The squirrels are running all around looking for their nuts on the ground.
I watch the water flowing underneath my feet. I pick some little rocks and throw in the water. I like the sound it makes and the waves that forms around it. Everything is just beautiful.

I miss what once was happiness.

I wonder, when was it happiness?

I search, I don't find, I keep still.

I look to the horizon, I can't see the end.....there is no end. Then I think "there is hope,still".

As the world goes round, so I do. Maybe I don't follow this movements, it feels more like an "up and down"...the bottom is not fun at all.

I can't get enough spring to go to the top again, and I think I might be growing roots as I can't jump. If there is something that I hate the most, it's being stuck. Not able to move anywhere.

So I turn my eyes and my mind back to the place I am. And there is still peace. I'm waiting for my turn to flourish and bloom. ;)

Uuuggghhhh

I've been thinking about this a lot my whole life, but I never found the reason why.
Seriously....I'm such a good person. I have my faults. Like I'm very moody and impatient. Sometimes I can be very rude. But I'm always doing the good. And I wonder why bad things happen to me !!!
Do good people deserve the bad things ??? Why do the bad people are always achieving things and get things their way and don't even suffer ???

I don't know.....being a human sometimes is really tiring. Trying to grow, learn, be good, be perfect, be peaceful, be responsible..............

I am tired !!!!! I am tired of trying to be the best for everyone !!! I am tired of being afraid that if I'm not great, I'll be alone !!! I am tired of feeling guilty for every shit that happens !!! I am tired of overthinking, overfeeling, over reacting.....I am tired of counting with myself and not being able to borrow someone's else shoulder to cry my damn problems.

Can I please stop being a coward and accept people in my life? Can I just for one day feel that if I make mistakes, it's gonna be ok? Can I cry ??? Or is it too much to ask for ??? Because I find it very hard to cry...

Can I be a human ??? Because it's fucked up trying not be a shitty one !!!

O.O Hein?

Ultimamente, tenho notado algo diferente. Que alias, é a única coisa que noto.

Por onde andará meu cérebro?

Meu grau de autismo está além das órbitas. Não contente com um universo paralelo, ando criando mais. E isso está consumindo todo meu tempo.
Porque quando volto ao normal.....TCHIBUM.....cadê eu?

Nãããããão SEI !!!!!!

Outra coisa que acontece, é a minha tosse. Conversando com um amigo, cheguei à conclusão de que estou tossindo meu cérebro.

A minha tosse não vem nada do pulmão............achei que pudesse ser sinusite. Que as coisas vem de cima.....mas pode ser o meu cérebro. Já que ando perdendo memória, inteligência e essas coisas que já não lembro mais...

Eu sei que a linha do meu pensamento se foi, mas foi bom dizer OI. ;)

A bientot.

Just a clue...

"Where did you go? I've been missing you.
Where are you now? I just can't see.
Where do I look at? Are you still hiding under the bed as you used to? Or maybe behind the closet?
Are you outside? You used to love to just go outside and run free.
Baby, is it time to pick you up at school yet? Maybe I could help you today with your homework.
Do you remeber that special meal you were asking for? I'm gonna cook it tonight for dinner.
I hope it makes you happy.
Oh, I also got some new pair of shoes and a warm coat as winter is coming. It might fit you just perfectly. I got it on your favorite color, green....you love green, right?
Son ? My son? Can you hear me?....."

She strokes her face with her shaking fingers. Her face looks sad, it seems like she wants to cry.

"Where are you son?........."

She can't hear him, she can't touch him. She is not able to pick him up at school anymore. She goes everyday to see if he is there, but he is never there.
A pain smashes her chest, it seems like it's squeezing her heart so hard that she looses her breath. It's unberable living not knowing where her son is now. If she just had a clue...

"If I just had a clue....my son, my love. Why are you gone? Why ???.........Why to treat a mother like that? I'm still hoping......I'll never lose the faith. I'll find you, wherever you are my so dear son !"

And she waits...looking everywhere. Crying all her tears, shouting all her voice for his name, praying all the prayers to all the Saints and Gods, living every moment for a clue....just a clue...to her missing son.

"My missing son...where ever you are, never forget how much I love you. I always will...always..."

Gimme a tissue, please.

_ Gimme a tissue, please.

A tear drops down her face.
And one after another bursts from her eyes. That's her soul crying.

_ What's the reason for?

Silently gulping all the aswers, she keeps all to herself. She suffers. And she now cries. And nobody can help, nobody ever will. Nobody will ever be able to.

_ Would you like another one?

She takes the tissue and smile gently to me. And then turns her face staring to nowhere, with eyes full of hope and a silence full of pain.

_ I'm fine. Don't worry.

God knows how that hurts not being able to do anything to help her. I try, and the best I can do is give her my arms and put them around her.
She drops her head on my shoulder, let a little sigh out and falls asleep.
I know she is ok now, dreaming of what she misses.
I'm relieved.

Café da tarde.

Era uma tarde como outra qualquer que eu passava na casa de minha madrinha. O céu estava azul, sem nuvens e o sol brilhava forte para amenizar o frio de inverno.

Na companhia de minha melhor amiga, prima...irmã, sentávamos à mesa para o café da tarde. A mesa oval, as cadeiras com estofado de couro bege. Sobre a mesa, o pão de sal fresquinho que minha madrinha acabara de trazer da padaria Requinte II, o copo de requeijão Poços de Caldas, a faca de serra para cortar o pão, a faca de manteiga para passar o requeijão e outra para passar margarina.

Ponho o café na xicara de vidro marron, arredondada. Com uma textura única por fora e lisa por dentro. Lembro bem do sabor do café nela, do vapor quente que saía e embaçava a parte de dentro da xícara e a fumaça que dançava diante dos meus olhos me convidando a servir.

Enquanto o café esfria na xícara de vidro marron, corto o pão verticalmente ao meio. E ouço minha madrinha reclamar:

_ Menina, não corte o pão desse jeito. Segura direito para nao cortar a mão !!!

Eu rio e continuo cortando o pão do jeito que eu sei. Segurando o pão com uma mão embaixo, cortando com a outra em cima, até que a faca encoste na minha mão que segura o pão e eu segure o pão em cima onde já está cortado, para terminar de cortar a parte de baixo.

Em uma metade eu passo o requeijão, na outra a margarina que derrete instantaneamente !!!
E o cheiro desse pão fresco com a margarina derretida !!!! Juntando com o cheiro do café que acabou de ser passado. Ah, que saudade !!!

E como uma criança, primeiro mordo a metade do pão com requeijão e depois a metade do pão com margarina. Decido qual metade está melhor e como ela por útimo.

E depois, termino o meu café.

Após terminar o café, como as migalhas de pão que caíram na mesa. E ouço mais uma vez a minha madrinha dizer:

_ Não coma as migalhas do pão. Deixa pobre !!!

E eu gostava tanto de sentir as migalhas da casca do pão se desfazendo entre meus dentes caninos e do barulhinho delas quebrando.

Com uma cara de quem pensa "Será que as que eu comi a vida inteira contam?".

Já estava pobre mesmo, então continuei comendo as migalhas do pão e coloquei mais café para tomar.

Menina

E o mundo parecia montar de bloco em bloco embaixo de seus pés. Não importasse a direção que ela tomasse, seus pés jamais ficaram sem chão.
Mesmo porque, fosse onde a vida a levasse, ela sempre estivera feliz.
Com um sorriso, que da alma brotastes, contagiando a quem esta menina encontrastes.
Era um conforto que ninguém soubera explicar, um alívio que todos procuravam roubar, uma sensação de paz.
Ela achava que dava sono nas pessoas. Quem ninguém a suportara, que entediante ela fora.
Boba ela, essa menina. Que o sono era de calmaria, aquela paz que as pessoas queriam.

E se perguntastes, tua felicidade, de onde viestes?

Com um sorriso nos lábios e os olhos brilhantes de quem sonha alto, tocando dentro de ti, ela sempre respondestes:

_ Felicidade, não se pode encontrar em qualquer lugar. Toda busca será em vão. É um sentimento que contigo estás desde que ao mundo viestes. Fica cravado dentro da alma, jamais te abandonas. É preciso se deixar sentir e deixar a felicidade agir. Quanto mais bloqueios colocares em teu caminho, mais difícil será para deixares a felicidade fluir. Tudo que te rodeia é felicidade. Estar vivo é a maior delas!

E com passos de como quem dança, ela segue seu caminho com a leveza de uma criança. Parece semear o caminho por onde passa, deixando rastros que nem o tempo apaga. Pois para ela, o tempo não existe e tudo sempre fica em seu lugar.

Company of Thieves

I've got the pleasure to see my favorite band, also a new band from Chicago called "Company of Thieves", play for the first time in San Francisco last night (08/05/2009).

They played just a few songs, which blew my mind away !!!!!
It was AMAZING !!!!

Living in Portland for more than 1 year I never got the chance to see them play. Every time I looked at the calendar it was too late. :/

But yesterday...it was a mixing of feelings. I was excited and happy to see them. I was honored to get to talk to them for a while. I've been swiped off of my feet listening to them play. And at the same time I was soooo nostalgic !!!! They are a GREAT band...I've never been such a fan as I'm theirs, but besides that, they bring up the best memories I have.
Their songs bring me all those feelings I carry for Portland and for life. Yes, for LIFE....because that's why I love Portland so much....this city brings me the meaning of life....at least my life.

They are fantastic as individuals. They were just so caring and sweet when we were talking. Thing that you hardly ever get with other bands....

The best songs you must listen to: Oscar Wilde, Even in the Dark, Pressure, The Fire Song, Around the Block and Tallulah. Those are my favorites !!!!

And I "Raise a toast" to Company of Thieves !!!! o/

Keep Portland Weird \o/

Well....to start off this new blog, I wanna talk about something that is really important and means a lot to me.

It is hard to find a bridge that connects your inner self to your external surroundings.

I didn't have to find this bridge when I got to Portland for the very first time...there are already 14 of them. But I could also see beyond the fog after the middle of the bridge inside myself. I didn't know where the hell I was going to......when finally, I could see the end in Portland.

People outside USA usually don't even know the existence of the Oregon State. And people in the USA asks me " What the heck do you like there ? It rains 365 days a year."

Actually....I try to find words to describe this feeling all the time...but I can only use "magic" or "fate" or even "serendipity" (Completely cliche...I agree).

Portland has the right "mix" of a big city and at the same time a small town. It's alternative and kinda trendy. But it welcomes all kinds of people and culture. Believe it or not (for Portlanders readers, if there's any) it's clean, safe, beautiful, calm, green (all matters), polite, friendly and the public transportation works. (Gosh....you should go to Brazil before complaining).

This is a place that I might never go back, but it's where my heart will always be settled. This is the place that "feels like home". The place that makes me feel part of everything. I've always missed something I couldn't find....but now I did. The most important wasn't finding the place Ive been looking for, but finding the best of me while I was there. It's the City of the Roses and the city of all other lives.

It doesn't matter WHAT you are....but WHO you are. Words will never be able to describe what it means to me, there's not enough of them. But for me, being there is enough.

I hope someday I can come back and settle my life there, because my heart and my soul had never left.