It’s about the weight of insignificance, the feeling of being a mere speck in the grand scheme of things. It’s about the journey, the tracks stretching into the distance, leading to an uncertain destination that we call home. It’s about fading away, blurring into the background, leaving behind a hollow space that once held laughter and warmth. It’s about the longing for light and love, the desperate gasp for air in a world that feels suffocating. It’s about the struggle to hold onto words, to poetry, to meaning, as they slip through our fingers like sand. It’s about the ache … Continue reading Cozy home …

Generosity, like a river that flows endlessly, sustains the love that blossoms between two souls. It is the giving of oneself, the selfless sharing of time, attention, and affection, that enriches the soil from which love grows. In the ebb and flow of life, generosity becomes the current that carries love through trials and triumphs, bridging the distance between two hearts. And in the quiet moments, when the world fades away and all that remains is the gaze of adoration, it is the deep feeling of admiration that ignites the flame of love. It is the recognition of each other’s … Continue reading What keeps two people in love and in a long relationship?

Some days love is a gentle whisper, a soft caress that lingers in the air. It doesn’t need grand gestures or extravagant displays. It simply exists, a comforting presence that wraps around you like a warm embrace. Love can be the familiar feeling of a soft blanket on a winter’s day, offering solace and warmth as you navigate through the ebb and flow of life. It’s the steady hand that guides you through both the bright days and the dark nights, a constant source of support and understanding. Love is versatile, taking on different forms and shapes, yet always remaining … Continue reading Some days …

We betray our mother tongues, embracing the languages of foreign nations that will never fully embrace us. In our pursuit to belong, we allow the strangeness to infiltrate our speech, twisting our words until our original tongues become a distant memory. The familiar cadences and rhythms of our native languages, once flowing effortlessly, now stumble and falter. We mold our voices to fit a new vernacular, seeking acceptance in a world that views us as outsiders. In this transformation, we lose pieces of ourselves, fragments of identity slipping away with every foreign word. Our mouths, once accustomed to the warm … Continue reading Mater Tongue

What do you want to know about what makes my soul tremble? You observe me, you pass judgment, attempting to mold me into a form, a substance that can resemble you, that can please and satisfy you, but I am already distant. Beyond. Far away! I harbor this ravenous and always hungry beast within me; she sniffs and devours moments and emotions with voracity, now purring, now ready to tear to pieces in an instant! I always live to the fullest of my desires, poised between the woman I am and the one who has yet to explode. I split … Continue reading What do you want to know?

I am the dancer and the Dance, moving to the rhythm of the universe. I am the Dreamer and the dream, creating worlds within worlds, infinite possibilities waiting to be explored. Buddha, Christ, Shiva, Tao, all Orishas, all paths leading to the same destination. I am the Song the Brahman sings, the melody that echoes through the cosmos, a symphony of love and light. Some pray Om, Ah-Ham, Amen, their words a reflection of their journey. Others follow what they were programmed in, their beliefs a product of their environment. But in the end, words mean nothing, just passing waves … Continue reading Peace & Love

Dear Bia, As I reflect upon the passage of time, I find myself in the gentle embrace of old age. My physical form may show signs of wear, with leathery skin, white hair, and replaced teeth. My vision has grown blurry, and my memories have softened around the edges. Yet, despite these changes, I want you to know that I am still worthy, and I am still a woman. Within me, the desire to feel the warmth of someone’s hand in mine remains. I still laugh, and I still cry. I yearn to be seen as beautiful, respected, and listened … Continue reading Barueri, August 25, 1996

Love must know how to speak, using words that exist only in the “time of delicacy.” I promise to cherish you until love itself falls ill, ill… And because of this mysterious time, it is necessary to love carefully, with the eyes, with the ears, with the hand that gently touches, to avoid causing harm… while there is still time. In the fragile moments where love lives and breathes, we must tread gently, with a sensitivity that honors the delicate nature of our hearts. Each look, each whisper, each tender touch should be infused with care, as if navigating a … Continue reading About the Delicacy of Love

Há dias em que o Brasil parece acordar decidido a provar que não é um país, mas um roteiro escrito por algum roteirista genial e debochado. Não basta a política ser turbulenta, ela precisa ter timing, precisa ter ironia, precisa ter coincidência. Maria do Rosário acorda, abre a janela, respira fundo: é seu aniversário. Talvez pense em bolo, talvez em flores, talvez em mensagens de amigos. O que ela não imagina é que, lá no planalto central, o destino prepara uma surpresa digna de manchete: Jair Bolsonaro, o mesmo que um dia a insultou em público com palavras de baixo … Continue reading Crônica – O Mundo Dá Cambalhota

Who are you, joy? My words are not a toy for you to stir and extirpate from my heart, only to be cast upon the whims of fate. If you are but a ghost of joy and mirth, then surely your place is not here on this earthly plane. If you are an angel, which I find hard to believe, you wouldn’t need to flutter about, restless and unseen, around a marble stone, alone in your slumber and dreams. Who are you, joy? Are you a friend who whispers solace and warmth, or a mere toy that teases with fleeting … Continue reading Joy