Na infância capturada em preto e branco,brilham os olhos que um dia veriam o Brasil com alma.Cada rosto, uma semente de verbo,cada sorriso, um prelúdio de páginas que mudariam mundos. Clarice Lispector, com seu mistério de dentro: “Liberdade é pouco. O que eu desejo ainda não tem nome.”E assim, ela nos ensinou a sentir o indizível. Guimarães Rosa, sertanejo de estrelas: “O real não está na saída nem na chegada: ele se dispõe para a gente é no meio da travessia.”E o meio virou eternidade. Carlos Drummond de Andrade, pedra no caminho e poesia no peito: “No meio do caminho … Continue reading Ode aos Eternos da Palavra Brasileira

I am free, regardless of the rules that surround me. If they’re tolerable, I accept them; if they’re oppressive, I defy them. My freedom lies in knowing that I alone bear moral responsibility for everything I do. I have no time for blind fanaticism, racism, xenophobia, or any ideology that humiliates others and poisons the world we live in. Life is too precious to be wasted on hate and ignorance. ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Free

Qu’est-ce que je ressens ?… J’ai acquis des références, un statut et une approbation, mais où est l’accomplissement promis ? Ai-je été mal dirigé en cours de route ? Mais qu’est-ce que je ressens lorsque les attentes sociales sont contredites ? Lorsque mes intentions sont dominées par la nécessité de prendre soin de toute la vie, pas seulement de la mienne. Pourquoi est-ce si paisible et calme, quand l’amour devient réalité, pas seulement un fantasme – quand l’amour est expérimenté et exploré, pas un désir plein d’espoir… Peut-être qu’il y a un nom pour cela, mais pour l’instant, je l’appellerai… … Continue reading La joie silencieuse

What kind of relationship you have is your choice, and one choice isn’t better than another. What’s important is that you make a choice. That even if you’re monogamous, vanilla, icecream, homo and heterosexual—you’re doing it because it’s what you want and because you and your partner have agreed to it, not because that’s what people do. What’s important isn’t what path you take, but that you know there are paths. Paths? Fuck, there’s an entire open world out there once you get past “man buys dinner, a woman agrees to missionary PIV until he ejaculates. (Or rather, a world … Continue reading It is not Nobody Business

The way I feel ordinary, a simple human being… My own very limited self kind of crushes me in a way. I’d know exactly, and I sort of feel haunted by unfolding while at the same time wishing for nothing more. And I get this feeling, and I understand all of it; it stands painfully clear and whole toward me. It simply makes me feel small sometimes, and words are lacking, to be honest. Simultaneously, that precise emotion is so utterly complete in itself that it floods me with awe, and I kind of get so lost in its essence … Continue reading Extraordinary

You speak of miracles and how the Sun radiates through him. How his skin is an anthology of love poems, each touch a stanza of eternal affection. His bones wrapped in honey, sweet and golden, a testament to the warmth he carries. His heart, an ocean, vast and profound, holding depths of emotions that ripple endlessly. And what of me, if he is the Sun? My body is the moon, reflecting his light, a silvery glow that dances in the night. My skin is a canvas of whispers, each caress a secret written in the language of the stars. My … Continue reading Togetherness

Enquanto me aguardo, visitam-me as palavras — como velhas conhecidas que chegam sem aviso, mas sempre no tempo certo. Elas se acomodam entre os silêncios e os suspiros, sussurrando segredos que nem eu sabia que guardava. Busco entre os meus versos e frutos, colhidos com mãos trêmulas e alma inquieta, alguma desavisada certeza de mim. Talvez um reflexo, talvez um eco. Uma distraída verdade oculta nas entrelinhas desta vida caótica, onde tudo parece ruir e renascer ao mesmo tempo. É nesse intervalo entre o que sou e o que espero ser que as palavras me encontram. Elas não pedem licença … Continue reading A Poesia que me Habita

I am not every woman. I don’t choose to be anyone other than myself. I am a woman comfortable in my own skin; in this body. Slowly, I am blooming in my own garden. I’m in no rush to become someone else or to compete with anyone. My journey is mine alone, unique and uncharted. I don’t aspire to be you, or like your daughter, your sister, or your friends. I am satisfied with the woman I’ve been, but I am still learning about the woman I am becoming. Each day, I discover new facets of myself, unfolding like petals … Continue reading I am not every woman

I hate explaining myself. The nuances of my thoughts, my actions, my art—they’re like the notes of a symphony that can’t be translated into mere words. I don’t want to dissect how I draw or paint, how I perceive the world. These processes are intimate whispers of my soul, echoing through the canvas and the paper, not meant for dissection. What I truly love is when people ask how I feel, how my art lives within them. That connection, that shared experience—it’s pure and unfiltered. It’s less about the mechanics and more about the emotion, the resonance. When someone lives … Continue reading Don’t Ask Questions

Does Love end? Yes, and what remains is memory. When immersed in Love, in that very moment, we are granted the words to vow it eternal. And to feel it eternal. In those moments, we know because we feel, and we feel that we will love forever. This is because Love returns us to the dimensions of the Soul where the Soul exists, but time does not. Love inhabits only the present time in which, whole and freed from the commitment to calendars, we can embrace destinies. Love temporarily allows us to know ourselves as timeless, granting us the grace … Continue reading When Love Ends …