FALSO BRILHANTE - CARPINEJAR
Há o condicionamento de que amor mesmo, de verdade, é gastar metade do salário para a esquadrilha da fumaça assinar o nome da namorada pelos céus de Porto Alegre.
Temos uma noção de que amor mesmo, de verdade, é exibicionista. Depende de surpresas públicas de afeto como serenata na janela, carro de som, anúncios na TV, outdoors com pedido de casamento.
Mulheres e homens se desesperam por um amor público, encantado, de estádio cheio, e cobram provas mirabolantes de seus parceiros. Reclamam da rotina, da previsibilidade, e exigem declarações barulhentas para despertar a inveja do próximo.
O amor espalhafatoso recebe a fama, mas o amor contido é o mais profundo.
Ao procurar o amor empresarial, desprezamos o amor funcionário público, que atende às ligações e escreve nossos memorandos.
Ao perseguir o amor de cinema, desdenhamos o amor de teatro, de quem encena a peça todo dia ao nosso lado, sempre com uma interpretação nova a partir das falas iguais.
Ao cobiçar o amor sensual de lareira e restaurante, apagamos a delícia de comer direto nas panelas, sem pratos, sem medo do garçom.
Ao perseguir a aventura, negamos a permanência.
Preocupados em ser reconhecidos mais do que amar, esquecemos a verdade pessoal e despojada do nosso relacionamento. Recusamos o amor constante, o amor cúmplice.
Não valorizamos a passionalidade silenciosa, a passionalidade humilde, a passionalidade generosa, a passionalidade tímida, a passionalidade artesanal.
O passional pode ser discreto na aparência e prático na ternura.
O amor mais contundente é o que não precisa ser visto para existir. E continuará sendo feito apesar de não ser reparado.
O amor real é secreto. É conservar um pouco de amor platônico dentro do amor correspondido. É reservar as gavetas do armário mais acessíveis para as roupas dela, é deixar que sua mulher tome a última fatia da pizza que você mais gosta, é separar as roupas de noite para não acordá-la de manhã. E nunca falar que isso aconteceu. E não jogar na cara qualquer ação. E não se vangloriar das próprias delicadezas.
Buscá-la no trabalho é o equivalente a oferecer um par de brilhantes. Esperá-la com comida pronta é o equivalente a acolhê-la com um buquê de rosas vermelhas.
São demonstrações sutis, que não dá para contar para os outros, mas que contam muito na hora de acordar para enfrentar a vida.
sábado, 22 de outubro de 2011
quinta-feira, 5 de maio de 2011
...
Me perco, me procuro e me acho.
E quando necessário, enlouqueço e deixo rolar.
Não me dôo pela metade, não sou tua meio amiga nem teu quase amor.
Ou sou tudo ou sou nada. Não suporto meio termos.
Sou boba, mas não sou burra. Ingênua, mas não santa.
Sou pessoa de riso fácil e choro também.
Tati B.
E quando necessário, enlouqueço e deixo rolar.
Não me dôo pela metade, não sou tua meio amiga nem teu quase amor.
Ou sou tudo ou sou nada. Não suporto meio termos.
Sou boba, mas não sou burra. Ingênua, mas não santa.
Sou pessoa de riso fácil e choro também.
Tati B.
terça-feira, 12 de abril de 2011
Berenice é Clandestina e Ana tem açúcar.: Se me perguntarem o que pode ser o amor...
Berenice é Clandestina e Ana tem açúcar.: Se me perguntarem o que pode ser o amor...: "Eu sempre me julguei uma romântica independente, quase liberal. Não fazia questões de momentos colossais e programados, mas de grandes sacad..."
Me
Shes the girl
that believes that what comes around goes around.
The one that hopes for a better day.
The one that won’t give up on you.
She’s the girl that’s unlike the rest.
The one that spent her days smiling,
and her nights crying.
She’s the girl that would love to be loved.
The one that looks so damn strong, but feels so weak.
She’s the girl that picks herself up every time she falls...
that believes that what comes around goes around.
The one that hopes for a better day.
The one that won’t give up on you.
She’s the girl that’s unlike the rest.
The one that spent her days smiling,
and her nights crying.
She’s the girl that would love to be loved.
The one that looks so damn strong, but feels so weak.
She’s the girl that picks herself up every time she falls...
domingo, 20 de fevereiro de 2011
sábado, 19 de fevereiro de 2011
Patterns
It's funny how I usually respond to this situation with my same old behaviour. I call myself a screw driver. Easy to explain, I keep screwing things. Besides from my work(probably because I try very hard), I'm always trying to screw myself. Is like knowing that you should wait for the green man to cross the road but you like the danger. And you can bet I'll keep doing it until I get hit. When it happens I crumble and cry and keep asking what I did wrong.
So now I have been trying to watch myself, listen to my friends and realising that words do have a strange power. It's hard to keep watching myself 24/7 but I do also have angels that keep telling me how to and what for. Helps. A lot.
University is getting more difficult and because I'm in a really good group, the standards are set very high. Is good, make you work harder and is always a friendly competition.
Work couldn't be better. I lost a bit of the passion from the beginning but to be honest I work the hours that I want.
I met a guy. A really nice guy. And like when you are in your first trimester you want to keep things wrapped for fear, for self-preservation. What can I say? Is so easy to screw things that I want to keep all hidden. I can't really do, I have to talk and talk with my good friends and expel all the demons that keep flying above my head. And I need to process everything. Read texts messages 20 times, think 400 times before reply, and make sure my OCD behaviour possess me and make me do what I always do.
I met a guy, and he's awesome. He probably has thousands of issues like me but now I can't see a single one. So i keep myself busy trying hard, very hard to find one. Kind of sad. I got over my first pattern, he left his mobile unattended and I didn't check. Silly? If you are looking for, you will find. Simple like that. And when you don't find, you find strange why you can't find anything ( maybe he has a morse code or whatever-your-crazy-mind-can-think-of). Last night he experienced my first passive-agressive response to his text. I was right, he was probably being funny but because what he said push my buttons I had a kind of fuck-you-whatever-good-night-mr. And he called, and he said sorry and made me feel a bitch for freak out with something silly. So I opened up and shared a little bit why I was being so concerned. Scars, simple like that. Scars that I really can't pretend I don't have and prevent to get more. And (fuck me) he once again was amazing.
I could have hold myself but I didn't. I didn't go and fuck the guy next door but did something I'm no proud of.
Anyway, should I try harder?
So now I have been trying to watch myself, listen to my friends and realising that words do have a strange power. It's hard to keep watching myself 24/7 but I do also have angels that keep telling me how to and what for. Helps. A lot.
University is getting more difficult and because I'm in a really good group, the standards are set very high. Is good, make you work harder and is always a friendly competition.
Work couldn't be better. I lost a bit of the passion from the beginning but to be honest I work the hours that I want.
I met a guy. A really nice guy. And like when you are in your first trimester you want to keep things wrapped for fear, for self-preservation. What can I say? Is so easy to screw things that I want to keep all hidden. I can't really do, I have to talk and talk with my good friends and expel all the demons that keep flying above my head. And I need to process everything. Read texts messages 20 times, think 400 times before reply, and make sure my OCD behaviour possess me and make me do what I always do.
I met a guy, and he's awesome. He probably has thousands of issues like me but now I can't see a single one. So i keep myself busy trying hard, very hard to find one. Kind of sad. I got over my first pattern, he left his mobile unattended and I didn't check. Silly? If you are looking for, you will find. Simple like that. And when you don't find, you find strange why you can't find anything ( maybe he has a morse code or whatever-your-crazy-mind-can-think-of). Last night he experienced my first passive-agressive response to his text. I was right, he was probably being funny but because what he said push my buttons I had a kind of fuck-you-whatever-good-night-mr. And he called, and he said sorry and made me feel a bitch for freak out with something silly. So I opened up and shared a little bit why I was being so concerned. Scars, simple like that. Scars that I really can't pretend I don't have and prevent to get more. And (fuck me) he once again was amazing.
I could have hold myself but I didn't. I didn't go and fuck the guy next door but did something I'm no proud of.
Anyway, should I try harder?
...
I ain’t yours for no taking,
You must be mistaken
I could never look in your eyes, and stand …
And ignore who I
Well I found a boy that loves me more,
Than you ever did before.
So stand beside the river you cried
And let yourself down!
Look how you want me now that I don’t need you!
Adele- I FOUND A BOY
You must be mistaken
I could never look in your eyes, and stand …
And ignore who I
Well I found a boy that loves me more,
Than you ever did before.
So stand beside the river you cried
And let yourself down!
Look how you want me now that I don’t need you!
Adele- I FOUND A BOY
sexta-feira, 18 de fevereiro de 2011
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)