When life happens!

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When we talk about our life and death, everything changes and even being naturally strong becomes unnatural. We are all unaware of our own limits until we are tested. We evaluate and put all in perpective, when it´s no longer up to us to decide. We are weak sometimes, specially when being strong does not apply. It can happen to anyone. It can come out of nowhere to remind us of some tiny big details we have been putting off. It is real and it is often not possible to postpone.

When we talk about our life and death, it means we can actually die and it is no longer a thing of the  future, it´s reality striking. When we don´t care enough for our own time, wasting it, we realise there´s so much to regret resenting us for non-decisions and wrong ones. When we feel that feeling down and miserable will stuck to our skin and bones, we understand that there are bigger forces and uncontrolling wills. When we are down we can really fall deeper and simply stay there...


If you´re gonna break my heart...

If you´re gonna break my heart, just break it. If you´re not ever gonna love me, just say it. If who you are can never meet who I am while I´m just loving you, please don´t fake it...

We never pick and choose who to keep inside. We hardly ever find a way to escape from the only feeling who actually makes us feel alive. We wonder around running away from reality, choosing to pretend and lie. We don´t make up our minds when we´re supposed to and are supposedly wrong. We tie knots that won´t be untied in a life time. We make so little in so much time and ask for too many words when not using the right ones.

If you´re gonna break my heart by not loving me, just say it now and save me.


A true mix mash, I am...

Minimal, Street, Glamour, Haute Couture, Luxury, Fashion, Chic, Style, Designers and more.

I sometimes have a quite huge difficulty in reading who I am actually being. I tend to see the days and absorb them as they come, but I also evaluate too much, too deep and too conscious of my role, the one I have to have here.

My life is a BIG mix mash. I´m either a precise woman, with exact figures, or a mumble jumble of a person yet to be identified. I´m either over productive and loyal to myself, or a sell out, giving bits and pieces that serve no one but me. Selfish? Well, I can, and need to. Strange? I have days, but hide nothing from anyone, I just let be, feeling in an extreme way, all the way.

I can go on despair on wether to move or change pace. I can soften or embarc on an endless voyage, taking nobody but my cargo. I can smile in wisdom, or cry of shame from all the bad choices. I can love over and over again, or simply decide not to, ever.

My dreams overwhelm me, but I never discard a single sign, because I´ll use them all until they acctually star to make sense.

This is me...


I don´t know who you are!

Kate Winslet

Your fear is as big as mine. You don´t know who I am, and curiosity almost kills you, but you don´t want to ask. Who goes first? Who wants to risk being rejected, or even worst, disappointed? Which one can assume the other feels the same, and wants to start something?

I can sense your fear, and how eager your eyes are when you search for me. There´s never enough time and no time alone. There´s always too many questions popping out and no answers yet. I could tell you a few, but I still don´t know how much you want to know. 

Love can be a pain in a neck, a tuff one, specially when a lot more can come along, weakening our will to start an adventure, all over again. I don´t know who you are, and how heavy your load is, but I´ll keep holding every will back, I have to, I´m too tired of hurting. I don´t know who you are, and I am not able to read between the lines. There´s so little of your days I can use, and so much of me alone.  I don´t know what to do, even when I think I´m doing something, but maybe there´s nothing to be done. Maybe there´s no us. Maybe it´s just me asking what may never me aswered.

I don´t know who you are, but I can feel your fear and it is as big as mine!


What are women doing?


Is it only me, or women are really drinking their lives out? We can check it up in movies and in real life, too. They are everywhere, with no limits, drowning themselves in big bottles of reds, whites, rosés, you name it and they can´t be stopped, apparently.

So what exactly are women doing? Is it a pattern? Is unhappiness spreading or do they simply love it?

It´s hard for me, a non-drinker, to understand, mainly because I like facing life, grabbing the bull by its horn and surviving catastrophies, even the small ones.

I´m not a judgemental person, but the message underneath really scares me. Nobody seems strong enough to endure simple problems, and the answer always comes in a shape of a bottle.

What are women doing? Probably trying to ruin their eggs for good, or simply wandering, with little answers and a ton of wrong questions...

Writing alone sucks...

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It is a fact that writing alone sometimes sucks. I would love to have people around, at the same page, knowing all there is to know about words and its impact on people. I mainly write about and for women, so having them close enough to understand wether I am really getting the point or not, would be SO good.

I miss friends, women friends, the opiniative type, the ones who are always involved in making us better, and crashing us down when we make bad decisions, althoug maintaining the same true love. I miss genuine women friends, someone to talk about anything and anyone. I miss longer hours of crazy laughs and common dreams. I miss being just a woman.

Writing alone keeps me away from others. I get the distinct feeling of self inflicted loneliness. Maybe I would love to have a voice of reason close by, someone to keep me from vomiting feelings so deeply, and someone to instigated me to being out there, not just behind scenes. Writing alone sucks when I really feel alone!
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