Friday, December 28, 2007

They say time heals everything...

And now for the first time I can say I'm no longer waiting.
Time has changed something just like I wanted it to and I didn't make a big deal out of it?
I'm an ungreatful person. It's been days, and I hadn't even bothered to mention it here yet. If I hadn't listened to Dixie Chicks' Not Ready to Make Nice yesterday I probably wouldn't and it'd be just forgotten. That's not good and it says a lot about my personality but anyway, that's not the point here.
Time [plus some painful efforts] changed something I've been waiting to be changed for the last four years. Four years! I'm 18, four years still is a lot.
And I think it was what kept her alive and now I hope she's gone. Because I did the one thing she never did.
I talked about how I felt.
And now it's gone. =)

Monday, December 24, 2007

The Boat

I think I need a project.
Not a God-told-me-to-do-it project on a Joan Girardi kind of thing. Just... something.
I need to do something not related to journalism classes or internet.
Journalism classes are driving me insane.
I can't read a magazine without paying attention to the number of columns or the font type or whatever that's formatting-related. I can't watch an interview and focus on the answers because I'm too busy noticing the questions and how much the journalist researched about the theme of the interview. I can't watch the news because I keep talking about which tv journalism mode was used, and my mom gets mad at me for talking the whole time. I can't start thinking about what's real and what's not, or what is reality in the first place, because I go crazy. My paranoiac tendencies [let's go euphemistic here] got a little bit problematic after the classes about George Orwell's 1984 and Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.

So I need to build a boat. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I wouldn't know how to start building a boat. I wouldn't know how to continue to build a boat after finding out how to start. I would never be able to finish a boat. Okay, Isabel, it's a metaphor, let go of it now.


[I wrote this ages ago and forgot to post it. And I haven't started building any boat yet.]

Whoa

_

Didn't see that coming.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Someday never comes.

- Let go.
- But... I can't, there's so much to consider, I can't just forget everything that happened, everything that was said and felt, I can't --
- Just let go.
- But what if I don't wanna let go, I mean, I almost have it, I can feel that I --
- You have to let go.
- No, I mean, I know it's not good for me, I know I've been crying because of it and depending on it for too long but --
- It's time to let it go.
- It is, isn't it?
- Yep.
- But it's not easy, I mean, I'm not good at letting go, no one taught me how to do that. No, it's not just an excuse, don't look at me like that. I really don't know how to let go.
- Nobody said it was easy.
- Argh, stop singing and help me out here, that song doesn't do me any good.
- What do you want me to do?
- Try to convince me that I have to do that letting go thing, be reasonable, that's what you're all about, right?
- You're too hard to convince. And you're too stubborn. You won't listen to me, even though you know I'm right. And then you'll get broken, cause that's what you're all about. There's no point in trying to convince you. Believe me, I've tried. And usually she lets me be stronger than you but this is your thing.
- I don't feel well...
- I know. You can't handle it alone. But you won't listen to me.
- I'm tired... And I have the feeling that she's tired of us, cause we don't ever agree.
- She is. She can't take it anymore. So try to be honest now: do you think it's worth it?
- That's the problem... I feel that it is. And... I won't be able to let go while I still think it's worth it, right?
- Right. But still you refuse to take my word. You'll get hurt.
- I can take the truth, reality too. I'll adjust to it, I've learned how to do that. What I can't take is not knowing.
- Because you're a dreamer and you always expect the best thing to happen.
- Yeah.
- But I still think you have to let go.
- I don't know...


And so mind and heart keep talking on and on. Maybe they'll agree someday.

Friday, December 14, 2007

São Paulo.

_


It feels like home to me
It feels like home to me
Feels like I'm all the way back
Where I belong


CK.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

...more words than I had ever heard and I feel so alive

As palavras me fascinam. O uso das palavras me deixa sem palavras. Péssimo trocadilho. A forma que as letras se unem para formar algo com significado me deixa maravilhada. Letras são... coisinhas. Risquinhos. E formam palavras. Palavras que dizem tanto. Ou dizem nada. Mas mesmo as que dizem nada, dizem.
As palavras são relutantes. E reservadas. Apesar de não parecer, já que elas aparecem o tempo todo. As palavras boas são sorrateiras. Não avisam quando vão chegar. São aquelas que atacam quando não se tem uma forma de anotá-las. As que acabam quase que invariavelmente no esquecimento, junto com tantas boas e más idéias. As palavras mais úteis são as menos pontuais. Elas nunca estão ali na hora marcada. São as que formam as frases de efeito póstumas: o assunto já morreu. E você deixou de dizer algo que mudaria o curso da história. Ou quase isso. Ou nada perto disso, mas hipérboles são legais. Voltando. Você deixou de dizer algo porque as palavras não estavam lá com você. Mas pelo menos estas não são medrosas, como as que estão com você o tempo todo, mas se recusam a sair, porque ficam preocupadas com o que as pessoas vão pensar. E ainda piores que as medrosas, são as impulsivas. São independentes, e incontroláveis. E quando você percebe elas já fugiram e fizeram todo o estrago que podiam. E lá de longe elas riem de você. Há ainda as palavras misteriosas. Divertem-se às custas de quem as lê ou ouve. Divertem quem as diz ou escreve. Elas gostam de metáforas. Gostam de frases pela metade. São más, na verdade. Mas parecem boas, se comparadas às palavras cruéis. Estas não fogem, não escapam. Elas são jogadas para fora em momentos de irritação. Elas machucam e sabem que vão machucar, mas não se importam. E deixam as outras palavras em situações constrangedoras. As palavras amigáveis, principalmente. Elas são sensíveis demais. E o mínimo de insegurança as afugenta.
Mas as palavras têm um problema: não sabem a hora de parar. Não sabem como parar. E isso deveria ser fácil. E pode ser. Pois uma palavra, que sabe ser tão assustadora, é simples assim: Fim.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Truth #2

.



Everybody lies.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

...well maybe I should just let go...

...but what if it all means something?


And I know it does.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

way-hey-hey

I've goot a smiiiile on my faaaace
and I've got foour walls aroooouund meeee
I got the sun in the skyyy and the water surroounds meeee, oooh yoou knoooow
I'll win noow but sometiiiimes I'll loooose
I've been baattered, but I'll never bruuuise
It's not so baaaad

And I say waay-heey-heeey, it's just an oordinaaary daaaay
and it's aaall your staaate of miiiiiiind
At the eend of the daaay, you juuust got to say
it's aaall riiight


Hm, vontade de cantar. Great Big Sea empolga demais.

Friday, November 09, 2007



Uhul.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Poison

What is this power in music? How can it make you feel better just by turning it on? How can it speak for you even when it doesn't say a word? How can it make you cry just because it's so beautiful? How can it make you feel closer to someone who's far away? How can it take you back in time to a different place from the past? How can it remind you of people and places? How can it remind you of feelings? How can it make you feel the feelings you remember because of it? How can it make you meet people because they have the same musical taste that you have? How can it tell you so much about someone? How can it make you forget everything else when you listen to it? How can it make you close your eyes when you're in the middle of the street? How can it make you laugh? How can it make you smile and just feel happy? How can it make a windy day even more perfect? How can it be playing in your head all the time? How can it be inside of you? How can it touch you so deep and make you face things you didn't even know about yourself? How can it poison you?

Compulsion

That desperate need to write, again.

Uh-oh.

Not a good sign. At all.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Forever

Time, where did you go?
Why did you leave me here alone?
Wait, don't go so fast
I'm missing the moments as they pass
Now I've looked in the mirror
And the world's getting clearer
So wait for me this time
I'm down, I'm down on my knees
I'm begging for all your sympathy
But you (I'm just an illusion)
You don't seem to care (I wish that I could)
You humble people everywhere (I don't mean to hurt you)
Now I've looked in the mirror
And the world's getting clearer
I'll take what you give me
Please know that I'm learning
So wait for me this time
I should've known better
I shouldn't have wasted those days
And afernoons and mornings
I threw them all away
Now this is my time
And I'm gonna make this moment mine
I shouldn't have wasted those days
I'll take what you give me
Please know that I'm learning
I've looked in the mirror
The world's getting clearer
So wait for me this time


Time and I have history. So do Chantal Kreviazuk and I.
When time hadn't gone yet and I hadn't wasted those afternoons and mornings and days Chantal was there already. And Time was there already. On the back of my booklet. Inside my head over and over and over. During that one perfect daybreak back in 2005. So many times making me cry, so many times making me laugh. So many times more making me forget the rest of the world. Being with me on my birthdays. Being my company on my alone moments. After almost three years it still has the same effect on me. The song I can't say "it's one of the songs I love the most" about. Because it's the one song I love the most. From the first time I heard Time until this time, and a long time from now on too.


Have I ever mentioned that one of my life goals is to prove that Chantal Kreviazuk and I are related? Kreviazuk, Humenhuk, go, ukrainian last names!

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Time

I was sad and kinda desperate and in the middle of a crisis and then in the middle of a crisis for being in the middle of such a stupid crisis but then I realized that now I can finally sing along with Chantal Kreviazuk on 'Wonderful' without having to make a pause when she says "well, I'm not seventeen" so yay!

Friday, May 18, 2007

Bon Voyage

I wake up on a Sunday morning, turn on the TV and there's a girl dressed up in geeky clothes telling a big man that she wants to go to Fez. That was six years ago. There is no way I would have known that this particular moment would affect me and change my life forever. I couldn't possibly have imagined that it wasn't just another scene from just another tv show I'd end up forgetting. It was Gilmore Girls. And it did change my life. It did affect me. It wasn't just another tv show. It was Gilmore Girls.
Six years ago I couldn't have known that on May 18th, 2007, I would be crying in front of the computer after watching the last Gilmore Girls episode ever. I couldn't possibly understand the effect that the words 'last Gilmore Girls episode ever' would have on me. Maybe I would have laughed if someone told me I would feel empty and like someone I love died when Gilmore Girls ended.
And now it's over. I couldn't explain the feeling I had when I finally realized what it meant. The feeling I have now that I watched the last episode is even worse and more unexplainable. No more new episodes. No more witty dialogues. No more Friday Night Dinners. No more perfect songs playing on a perfect moment. No more Lorelai Gilmore. No more Gilmore Girls. It hurts me so much, too much. The best way of explaining how I feel is to say I'm empty and incomplete. But even that explanation is empty and incomplete.
And I know it was time to end. I know it wasn't the same anymore. I wanted it to be over, it was time. I kept blaming whoever for screwing up the show. And now it is over. And I realize I could keep watching Gilmore Girls until the day I die, even if it weren't great. And I realize I wasn't ready for it's end. And I no longer want to blame anyone for this.
Gilmore Girls means more to me than any other tv show ever will. I was 12 when I started watching it. I'm almost 18 now. I grew up with it. I watched those characters grow up. It's a part of my life, a huge part of my life, I can't remember what it was like not having Gilmore Girls in my life. I think it would be actually weird if it didn't affect me this much. And I wanted to say something touching and... I don't know, something. But I can't think nor talk now. I can only feel. And I don't want to say goodbye. It's too soon.

I hope after these six perfect years I have in me at least a little bit of all the perfect Gilmore Girls' characters I so love and can't live without. That would make me happy.


I try to say goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near


Because I don't know how to say goodbye to you, my Gilmore Girls.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Failure to communicate

...when we're together.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Little Things

Why don't people appreciate the little things? I mean, the details, the little, sometimes appearently insignificant things that happen to us everyday and have the power to make us feel so much better if we just pay attention to them. You read a book and you just know that's going to be your favorite book forever, no matter how many books you read after that. You meet someone who likes the same things you like. You listen to a song that fits perfectly with what you're feeling. You get to run under the rain. You go to the bus stop and two minutes later you can catch your bus. The clothes you feel like wearing are clean and just waiting for you to wear them. You find a glove you had lost years ago and it doesn't even fit you anymore, you grew up. You find out you mean something to someone you never thought you would. You know there's someone who will understand what you mean no matter how confusingly you say it, or even when you don't say it at all. You watch a perfect movie. You finally understand what "yellow brick road" means. You download the brand new Chantal Kreviazuk's album and it's perfect. You eat pizza three nights in a row. One of your favorite TV characters makes a reference to your favorite writer. You go to bed and it's raining and you get to listen to the rain until you fall asleep. You're an only child but there's someone who's like a sister to you and you love her. You find a letter you wrote and never sent and you know why you didn't. You find out that your favorite high school teacher still knows who you are and where you are and what your dreams are and she's hoping you're the happiest person in the world. You realize you changed more than you thought you had and at the same time you didn't change at all. Your mom gives you something she knew you'd love. Someone tells you that they dreamt of you. You know you can count on your friends even if they're miles away from you and even if you've never seen them face to face. Someone you miss tells you they miss you too. You have a perfect moment, even if it lasts five seconds. Your dad buys you a book. You get to listen to your favorite song without being interrupted. Your dog looks at you with an you're-my-hero face. Someone besides you was addicted to Birds of Prey. Your favorite college teacher says he's proud of you. You learn the word 'inconspicuous'. You see a really cool car plate. You listen to Eisley's Lost at Sea while going over Hercílio Luz bridge. You see a stranger reading an Agatha Christie book. You meet someone who loves green. You write and you feel better. You like your last name. You listen to Shelby Lynne's Wall in Your Heart and it reminds you of a friend you love to remember. You see an IMC sign on a store and you smile. You find out the name of a song after six months looking for it. You wake up to a windy day. You realize that the list of little things you appreciate is endless and you'll never be able to finish it. And you're happy.




For the first time the title isn't a tv show episode title because it was... well, who cares, it's my blog and I'll do what I want [and I'm sooo mature].
But it's a perfect Chantal Kreviazuk song.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Time Will Tell

Time sucks. It just goes on and on and shows no respect for anyone. Time doesn't care if you want it to go or not, or if you want to go along with it, it just goes and goes and never gives you a break. Time won't slow down for you and it definitely won't hurry up. But I don't mind waiting if it takes a long, long time. Time drives people apart after getting them closer. It's a sadist, and you'll never guess what it's doing because in time time will show that it was something completely different from what you thought it was. But I don't mind waiting if it takes a long, long time. Time demands that you get more and more responsible, and it doesn't care if you're prepared to do so or not. And you know when people say that time heals? Well, it doesn't. It just forces you to 'forget' some things until, ironically, time will make you face them again. Yeah, time is a sadist. But I don't mind waiting if it takes a long, long time. Time can make you love things [aka people] you used to hate, or hate things you used to love. And "what happened?", people will ask, and the only answer that actually will make sense is that time happened. And time is silent. Sometimes you don't even realize it's going and going. Sometimes you could even swear time stopped for a little while. But eventually you'll find out that it didn't stop at all, it was actually going and you'll never get it back. And it's sad, but true, and you'll have to live with it. But I don't mind waiting if it takes a long, long time. And time will continue to go and go for all eternity. And I'll be sitting here waiting. And someday someone else will notice that time is still going. And time will go and I'll wait. I don't know which one of us is more stubborn. Probably me.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Written in the stars

It's been one year. Today. Too much happens in one year. Too much changes in one year. Well, life changes in one year, and life is way too much. 365 days ago I was scared. Was I making the right decision? My God, that would affect not just my life but other people's also. I didn't mind screwing my own life up but I'd never forgive myself if I ended up ruining someone else's life. "It's just a ride", the song kept saying. Was it? This simple ride lasted for one year already. But it doesn't feel like one year. Sometimes it feels like two months. Sometimes it feels like forever. Too hard to decide. Uh, decisions. I hate decisions. But I hate it when someone decides something for me. Though no one has done that lately. I wanna be 9 again. No, I hated being 9. I wanna be 8. I don't want anything actually. Everything is perfect now. Because of this one year. So I did read the right stars. Flashbacks to a long gone night now. I love flashbacks. Even the sad ones cause I like to remember things from the past. One year ago is considered past. So is yesterday. But not the same past. One year ago is a scary past. Everything was a mess. My room was a mess. Well, it still is a mess but an organized mess. The word 'mess' lost it's meaning now. And it's a different room now. I liked the other room. No, I loved it. It knew more about me than anyone else. That room is what I miss the most of my one-year-ago life. The walls. My name written on that corner. Funny flaskbacks, smile on my face. And the notebook. Just the two of us up all night. It never told me anything about itself. Told me a lot about me though. I miss that notebook inside that room. One year ago. Yeah, too much happens in one year. People happen in one year. Places too. I forgot some of them, both people and places. Or maybe I refuse to remember them to protect myself, I don't know. And I don't want to know. All I know is that one year ago I was in my room writing. And now I'm in my room writing. So yeah, too much changes in one year but too much just stays the same. And I hold on to that. But I did read the right stars. Silly me for doubting that.