There is so much of so much. But it stings like pain.

It comes in different forms and waves... frustrating. adulting. disconnection. judgment.

I feel like I'm inadequate for the world. Never enough. Not seen. Crying for help but closed in a box.

Am I doing this to myself?! Because the brain says that I'm the only one to blame. The feelings are mine and I can't even move them. So heavy. So exhausting.

Is like ...

I'm lost in my own person. In the shallow waters of lies&deception and felt in the deep waters of the traps of the mind&ego.

Fighting against this is a lost battle because the preparation doesn't even exist. The work is heavy and the body runs away immediately.

How to get things done?! They're not! All stays in the corners getting spider webs and dust. And in the meantime the soul cries in disharmony, screaming for actions that don't arrive.

What happened? It should be easier than before, but it turned the other way around. Self-indulgence? Laziness? Fatigue? Demotivation?

Ideas gathered and not exactly seen putted into the corner's. Pulsating with energy, but from a start that is about to die.

If even with myself I can't give love or support, how to do it and be there for other people?! 

Living in the wheel. Looking for the instant adrenaline. Staying in the poverty of the weekend trap.

Routines which fell because the support in myself was cracked again.

Vicious. 

Trapped.

Indulging in the fresh air breeze. 

The night of the town. In those hot&cold ending days. The water in the rivers moves reflecting the street light and the weak moonlighting.
Is a feeling of quiet, peace, everything is alright and in their own time. Can the time be freeze to just appreciate, because in the caos of the life, the dark and light makes memorandos.

But as there is that balance, it also exist that unsettling feeling. It's strange.

I see the moon and she see me too.
I don't know who I am, I feel lost even though I’m enjoying myself.
I know what I want but at the same time I don't know.
I feel the heaviness of what I could be doing (all the things that are in the corner waiting for me to pick them up) with the time that I always wanted but I stop myself from starting and I can't quite understand why ... fears, insecurities, deep struggle of emotions, anxiety ... the just starting, is a struggle to take the leap.

Questions wander and speak into the dark of the night. Who am I? What was I? Did I really got myself trapped? Why for so long if I was aware? How could I manage it? Where did it also started? How could I not be aware? Why did I shut down in such a harsh way that could not realize until everything crushed in high speed in front of my eyes?

I used to be the one with night, sighing and having tea with the darkness. Then I embraced the light and shined. After I found an confortable balance of the ying&yang, while facing and accpeting the shadows. But soon that balance was a fallacy, and infinite waving started in search for that.

So much has happened, and so much has been lost or forgotten or distorted memories (as science says).
Now I look for "it", after so much transformation I no longer feel like before or that I'm able to go back, because I changed so much as human being.

It's scary to accept and face the truth, to have conversations with the most difficult shadows, the changes over time that I couldn't process, the recent traumas, the adjustements, the growing up and face all with other weights on the shoulders. The parts that had the most impact, the closest one that made it the explosion of feelings, the soft spots that grown up some sharp forms. All is changing, and the scariest of part, is that is also myself, as person that don't recognize some parts of herself. Accepting that it is how it is, working openely with it but always compare to how it used to be. Seeing the others versions, and feeling that I should be up to it but knowing that is not linear or smooth.

Always two sides of a coin. Choices, possibilities. Fears, sorrows. Dreams, hopes.

O que é feito dela?

As palavras continuaram, tomaram outros rumos por outros mundos. Foi uma re-descoberta que manteve a chama a acessa. Um porto seguro. 

O mundo mostrou as suas cores de rispidez. Fechei-me em mim, as paredes foram erguidas. Presa num conforto desconfortável. Sombras vindas da luz e da escuridão. 

Uma mulher que nas mais abruptas ondas perdeu o sorriso, mas nunca a vontade de (sobre)viver. 

Estou aqui!

Resiliência é a pedra que é estável na instabilidade. Em busca das respostas para perguntas que vieram com consciência que foi florescendo. Preserverância, um bicho difícil de destruir. Uma estabilidade frágil, mas possível de continuar a ter esperança. 

Não é numa gaiola que me encontro, por mais partidas que a minha mente me pregue. É um espaço com luz e seguro, pode estar amontoado com caixas, com cantos questionáveis e carregados de pó. Contudo o que mais trago comigo é a consciência e certeza que cresci e amadureci. Com muitas reticências, pontos de interrogação, questionamentos. Só que é essa a essência do ser humano. 

Planos para fazer surgir sorrisos, para construir memórias, para descobrir o que ainda precisa de ser descoberto. A um dia de cada vez.

E o presente?

À procura. Reformular. Reencontrar. 

Dizem que na casa dos 30, a vida tem tendência a trazer estabilidade mas no interior as mudanças pedem para acontecer. E numa geração onde mudança é a palavra que mais se ouve, não sou a exceção. 

Setembro. Aniversário. Hora de pausar, contemplar, respirar. 

Colocar em vocabulário o que se passou num ano é ter que contar na 3ºpessoa. Sinto que foi assim que o vivi. Em temporadas de despersonalização, em pontos de intensidade, em eras amurgadas, em instantes de resistência. 

Navegando por águas pensando que eram conhecidas, só que era nas brumas escondidas que os contratempos esperavam pacientemente. As sombras podem ser cruéis, mas os conforto inesperado dos monstros entorpeceu. 

Envolvida na alegria da dança, abraçada ao corpo dorido de descobrir que é condicionado, gozar a adrenalina, apreciar o pequeno que carrega carinho e satisfação. Uma bolha carregada.  

30&?

Graça na desgraça. Um disfarce tão perfeito da ironia da existência. 

Necessidade de olhar e não ignorar. Achar o que ficou perdido. Colar o que foi partido. Estimar o que suportou e ficou. 

Parabéns a ti! Criança, adolescente, adulta.

Parabéns a mim! Com um sorriso. Das profundezas ou dos fictícios. É a essência da alma.

Parabéns!

Seja perto ou longe, seja na calma ou na tempestade, seja entre risos ou lágrimas.

Seja no existir, no viver, no sobreviver.