Chronicles of a(ny) life

There is a popular Brazilian saying that goes something like this; "When one does not want, two do not fight". I want to make it announced here that I agree with that statement. This saying seems correct and demonstrates all popular wisdom. I will try to explain, although this is not exactly relevant to the coherence of this saying.

(In)famous

There are those who seek fame at any cost. I don't think this is wrong, after all, each person has a purpose in life, but I sometimes find myself thinking how dependent these people are on their appearance. How much they devise an idea of ​​happiness, of an eternally "colorful" world and how hard it must be to maintain such appearances. These people click a thousand photos to make just one or two look good, so they process the photos in these “tunes” apps out there, and so they create a fantasy profile.

We have to clap for these people, it definitely shouldn't be easy to want to look beautiful at all times, happy at all times, radiant at all times ... Urgh... I just got tired of imagining! In general, they are people who depend on the number of clicks they will have on their digitally processed photos. “So-and-so who fights”, after all, a click is worth more than anything!

There is nothing wrong with seeking fame, but would these people be able to overcome infamy/infamous? Hmm ... maybe they will make lives to show their sadness and be comforted by strangers, after all the ego depends on the click. And so comes the story of “when one doesn't want, two do not fight”. Fanatics of fame feel threatened with whom they imagine can "steal" fame from them... they look up and down as if you were a rival, ignore you, and do everything they can to make you seem and feel ugly or not important at all. After all, they need to have the spotlight, and you can't pose a threat (even if it's only in their imagination)! Everything is a threat to their "center of gravity", even if you are supposed to "speak perfect English" or "study hard"... you will inevitably be subjected to the scrutiny of these infamous minds. As I never wanted fame, I prefer to walk away and shut up, after all when one doesn't want to, two don't fight!

I was really liking him

It took me a while to finally forget about Steph. Do you know these Platonic loves? Something that you know deep down in your reason that will not work? So that was the kind of love I had for Cologne German. I got to do crazy love and, of course, I broke my face. I declared myself and, of course, I broke my face. Steph is the type of domineering man, he needs the woman as long as he can dominate her mind as much as her body, then he discards. Anyway, I forgot him!

But at carnival I started to realize that I was in love with another foreigner. This time by one I met in November last year in a South American country whose altitude in one of the cities is (literally) breathtaking. I remember it as if it were today of our first meeting. I swore I wouldn't go to bed with him, but after a whole bottle of wine, I just wanted to feel him inside me. I don't usually have sex on the first date, but something about him moved me... or maybe it was the down sentiment? I don’t know, I just know we met again in Rio de Janeiro in the middle of carnival and again another bottle of wine and… exactly; we ended up in bed. We slept together and I confess that it was there that I imagined that maybe one day we could share the same bed for the rest of our lives. It was good to have the presence of a polite and kind man on my bed... I woke up early and watched him sleep (he looked so cute and peaceful)... I fell in love with the feeling of tranquility that he transmits to me, not necessarily with his body. I like his presence and I loved preparing eggs for breakfast.

As usual, he needed to go to find friends... we would see each other again during that February before the pandemic. We went for walks together, we went to Maré, at Sugar Loaf. But... it certainly wouldn't work. Why? Because he is undecided and clearly wants nothing serious. I pretended not to feel anything and kept things quiet... I'm not the type of woman to call a thousand times or send a thousand messages. Do not expect that from me! I took myself out from the scene and collect my feelings and frustrations together. I got tired of begging for crumbs of affection.

I was really liking him (part 2)

We changed a few messages after that. We made some video calls while he was in Europe. I always tried to be attentive and not show that I really liked him and that talking to him was good for me. But I wondered why, since we were just friends, couldn't he introduce me to his friends who were in Rio in February? Why don't we all go out together? Since February, I started to suspect that - as usual - that caring man could really only relate to me clandestinely. I didn’t question before, I wouldn’t question afterwards, after all we had nothing serious, but that should have triggered an alert anyway.

I got a message from him asking if we could make a video call. Of course I was insecure, after all I had recently undergone surgery and was still recovering (completely swollen) and I was afraid he would think I was ugly. Summary: he asked if I could go to another city (in Brazil) for a campaign. My heart raced (not for the campaign), but for the opportunity to see him again, to repeat that pleasant morning of a hot February in Rio de Janeiro, to see him awaken...

But... the bucket of cold water came. I let my anxiety take over and instinctively invited him to stay with me, to spend time with me (I really wanted to have him around), but he said he would be too busy and that he couldn't. Everything got worse when he picked me up at the airport (my heart was racing even though I was involved in a revolt with my ex-husband), we had sex as soon as we arrived at the apartment and I foolishly believed that it would make him stay... he didn't. I pretended not to care, but I was super disappointed and felt used. In fact, I felt like a despicable object that can only be used clandestinely (that feelings started surround me again). I got sad because I realize I really like him... it finally came to my mind I was in love for him and he wasn't for me. I had to pretend I was fine I wouldn't mind... I couldn't :(

Interlude

I was trembling inside/ But I wanted to stay/Pressed against you there and leave the world behind…

Sex toy

Was this my destiny? Was my future apocalyptically destined to transform me into a clandestine sex doll? No, I refuse. I prefer to die dry than to die badly loved. I will not fight. I am not going to reduce myself to a lot of spiteful and frustrated words, I deserve more than an “I'm sorry”, I prefer to walk away and preserve my sanity.

When one doesn't want, two do not fight

Life is simpler when we can live it in tranquility. Sometimes, in order to be calm, you have to learn to suppress feelings. We can't force anyone to like us, but we also don't have to crawl for that someone. The name of this is self-love. And it is the most precious thing we have. We don't need to fight, but we need to learn to deal with emotions, especially anger. It is an exercise of a lifetime, but once “overcome”, tranquility will come as a consequence.

Am I a sad woman?

Perhaps. And I say perhaps because I have been experiencing a real emotional roller coaster. I'm not bipolar, I'm sure. But we always try to avoid problems that inevitably end up reaching me. I don't want to fight, I won't fight. I prefer to keep my feelings to myself, cry when I can and smile when I must. That might make me a sad woman. There is no harm in that, I just don't live the illusion of a "genuinely happy life" wide open on social media. I do not suffer from this evil and I will not allow myself to suffer this way.

I remembered a song

This sonf says something like this:

I was a wayward child

With the weight of the world

That I held deep inside

Life was a winding road

And I learned many things

Little ones shouldn't know

But I closed my eyes

Steadied my feet on the ground

Raised my head to the sky

And though time's rolled by

Still I feel like a child

As I look at the moon

Maybe I grew up

A little too soon

Funny how one can learn

To grow numb to the madness

And block it away

I left the worse unsaid

Let it all dissipate

And I try to forget

[…]

Nearing the edge (Nearing the edge)

Oblivious I almost (Oblivious)

Fell right over (I almost just)

A part of me (A part of me)

Will never be quite able (Will never be)

To feel stable (Able to feel)

That woman-child (That woman-child)

Feeling inside (Feeling inside)

Was on the verge of fading (Practically died)

Thankfully I (Thankfully I)

Woke up in time (Woke up in time, time, time)

Guardian angel, I

Sail away on an ocean

With you by my side

Orange clouds roll by

They burn into your image (Into your image)

And you're still alive

Chronicles of a(ny) life

It may seem insane, but these chronicles are part of a distressing repertoire that I am currently struggling with. I have found in writing a kind of self-healing, a place where I can escape and rework the feelings at the same time that the feelings rework me.

Writing is like looking at the sky and trying to map the path of the stars that shine far away. Looking at the sky means looking at the past (after all, the brightness of the stars that reach us was emitted millions of years ago) at the same time looking at the future (because the sky will be our limit to explore). This is exactly how I feel when I write: looking and escaping at the same time into my past-future. Dealing with shadows while trying to explore the limits of my own emotional existence.