week.end.in a seashell.

friday:

changing


outside

inside

around.
in everything.

saturday:

back to the future

by bus
in turism and self-discovery
around my london























































on foot
in me
around
its
- my own -
camden













































and in its old
- my new -
space and nest of mine.

sunday:

calm and comfort

given
























taken
























































and shared.

















at the end
of the end
of the week,
from the flower picked from the floor
at its beggining
- left there
with no wind or care,
kept as a souvenir
in a diary that does not take count of the past -,
this (re)birth,
nurtured in water:

flowers within

in front of his house there are poppies.

red.

loud.

free.


i was once earth
with them,
and they are now what i am as a flower.
a poppy.
red.


not to be bought
or sold:

brave.

corageous.

life.































sold or bought,
although never,
the rose.


i was once a planet with it,
the red rose:

blood.

truth.

within.






























within me,
as if a planted seed,
the red carnation.


that shouldn’t be bought
or picked:

it should bloom from us.










































(1st image: poppy blossom #1, by daniel beauvais.
i’m afraid none of the others had an author mentioned on the page where i found them...)

open dream

the day is born.


i leave the house wearing my sleep clothes,
red and blue,
and dive into the green in front of me.
catching rain drops as if they're fairies
i make a neckless of feelings
that the wings will take to those who.


i am light
in light.


i am the universe
and the universe is me,
alive as the wind,
each day,
each second,
in a smile blown with love.


i reborn.
kindness shapes my gestures,
freedom paints my life.


i am happy.
and each being sings in my ear
the colour of this world of everything.






...
















when i wake up, i will be under bloomed roots,
with a smile that flies and knows.




















..












and the pain won't be any more real
than the peace of knowing i am me.

































(image: turning point, by brian wiles)

nigth bird

we were lovers in the dark.


when all were adreaming and time was our own,
we left our nested corners of life and distance
and loved eaech other in what we were.


i kept words and feelings
- all of them,
all together,
all ourselves -
as if they were just one
and waited for the end of the day to give them to you in my own nudity.
of what i am.


i discovered your body,
each milimetre,
as if on a first time.
that i don't remember.
that i reinvent at each touch
each kiss
each heart friction.


when morning came with the truth
i went back to faraway from you,
from what we were,
what we are now,
in our own secret;
kept by ourselves
from what is given,
as if.


as if at night,
only at night
- unknown night -
i loved you.
more than what i know.
more than what i can.
more than what i am.

now.

rose thorn

i'm sick of not being able to rest my heart on you.









(image: embrace, by robinson tuon)

foreign morning.

(in love and sadness)




" for i know with the first light of dawn
i'll be leaving,
and tonight will be all
i have left to recall. "































...




in-between fear and words there was always the refusal of love.

always,
in this unreal and true time
you created for us.

you've condemned love and time as if they are one
and it's as if you didn't know that,
now.
as if the inflicted pain
the disappointment
of the disbelief
the surrender
to giving up
could be washed away
by this sea of distance.








.....










but no.


like that word of yours.


so many
and other
times.


"no".



...






..






.






now all we have left to do is close our eyes
hugging what used to be
and pretend that we dream.
that we can dream.
ourselves.
still.

beyond.


until tomorrow.






















(images taken from the book Love, Sex, and Intimacy - Their Psychology, Biology, and History, by Elaine Hatfield and Richard L. Rapson)




(..."the morning is just a few hours away"...)

(re)start.

"even when we moved to the rooms that the sindi friend had recommended, i was still not feeling comfortable in london, i was missing home and my country. i kept thinking of my mother's love and, at night, tears would come to my eyes, and i couldn't fall asleep. it was impossible to talk to someone about how i was feeling and, even if i did, what difference would it make? nothing would ease my anguish. (...) i was, therefore, between the cross and the wall. (...) now that i was here i should go until the end of the three years, an inner voice said to me."

(mohandas k. ghandi, "an autobiography - the story of my experiments with truth")


i restart myself from scratch.

i build
myself
only
one more time.

i travel
inside
and out
of who i was
and now am.


no matter the strength of what i left behind
- all that, with pain on the lips,
lived its undeserved death -,
i now
now
open
way:
i smile at the future and return to myself.


" i shall not regret it, what is gone is gone
i am leaving, my time is done
i have a lot to discover
i'm sorry but i have to go

i'm going to the world cuz there's nothing left for me here
it's the end of the show
and don't be hurt because i'm leaving
that's just how i am

changes
here comes my train
come my train
i'm going and i'm gonna be fine now
changes
here comes my train
come my train
i know it's time and now i'm gonna be fine
- always onwards, never backwards

nothing much to it but i'm gonna have fun
while life allows it
i'm gonna try and make good friends only
if needed, to help as well

and now freedom and the horizon
only you didn't get it
new york, ipanema or hong kong
that's where i'll be


changes
here comes my train
come my train
i'm going and i'm gonna be fine now
changes
here comes my train
come my train
i know it's time and now i'm gonna be fine
- always onwards, never backwards

free
i feel sublime
people more people
the sun and the blue sea


changes
here comes my train
come my train
i'm going and i'm gonna be fine now
changes
here comes my train
come my train
i know it's time and now i'm gonna be fine
- always onwards, never backwards
- always onwards, never backwards

(lyrics by seu jorge)


....



for ALL your strength,
my people
from different networks,
thank you
so much.