There's a painting with a little boat on her bedroom wall
and the cat is happy after all.
Red boat, grandma memories, hidden tragedies, new books and new pillows, new dresses and old smiles, new jokes and new dogs and new bruises and something to hope for once in a blue wall.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Studying life
The cat had wanted it for so long, but she never before dared to make it happen.
Only in her dreams she allowed herself to be a student once more, surrounded by books, passing exams, getting a degree.
Well, what do you know, some dreams do come true after all.
The cat is allowing her self to cry now, tears of joy.
Only in her dreams she allowed herself to be a student once more, surrounded by books, passing exams, getting a degree.
Well, what do you know, some dreams do come true after all.
The cat is allowing her self to cry now, tears of joy.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Try again
Dissapointment is like almonds.
You can turn it into liqueur, drink up and pretend you like it.
But deep down you know it's nuts.
You can turn it into liqueur, drink up and pretend you like it.
But deep down you know it's nuts.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Shape shifting
The cat feels the earth moving beneath her feet.
Not in a threatening way, it's just that the scenery is changing.
The borders expand
New faces sign up with the casting director
New habits are starting to form
Old habits die more easily now
some things are good and solid as foundations
but sometimes the cat thinks it's time to change her stripes
Could she?
Would she?
Not in a threatening way, it's just that the scenery is changing.
The borders expand
New faces sign up with the casting director
New habits are starting to form
Old habits die more easily now
some things are good and solid as foundations
but sometimes the cat thinks it's time to change her stripes
Could she?
Would she?
Friday, November 27, 2009
I'm thankful for...
...bubble-gum scented showergel. And hot showers in the morning
...Scrambled eggs, bacon, my espresso brewing machine and soya milk at 5 in the morning when it's still pitch dark outside.
...nutmeg and dark chocolate.
...my laptop.
...IKEA furniture and friends who don't mind spend the weekend helping you re-paint your room, or put together your new IKEA furniture.
...friends who don't mind (so much) when I forget to text back.
...friends, in general
...Heroes, season 4, Pirate Bay and Bit.lord
...a mom who can't cook to save her life, but will do so, to save mine.
...Atkins diet
...tattoos. All great truths, in my opinion, should be written on the body
...my ankles, when they fail me. I need yet to be taught to sometimes stay in bed and not overwork myself to death.
...my bed, with my fluffy cushions and the stripe-patterned lamp that keeps ghosts and nightmare away
...words, who still manage not to fail me when I need them
...500 Days of Summer
...time. It passes slowly when you're waiting (whether it's for your train or for the heartache to pass), but it passes nontheless.
...taxi-drivers. They have provided me with enough material to stop postponing and star writing my book
...my dentist, who deep down is a therapist;p
...state therapists, who provide their service for free, should anyone need them
...the fact that I haven't needed a therapist yet
...Two and a Half Men, Blackadder and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Because they remind me that it should be easier to laugh than cry
...him. Because he will still make me laugh, even if all the above fails.
...you, who are reading these lines. Because you are probably me, in the near future.
...Scrambled eggs, bacon, my espresso brewing machine and soya milk at 5 in the morning when it's still pitch dark outside.
...nutmeg and dark chocolate.
...my laptop.
...IKEA furniture and friends who don't mind spend the weekend helping you re-paint your room, or put together your new IKEA furniture.
...friends who don't mind (so much) when I forget to text back.
...friends, in general
...Heroes, season 4, Pirate Bay and Bit.lord
...a mom who can't cook to save her life, but will do so, to save mine.
...Atkins diet
...tattoos. All great truths, in my opinion, should be written on the body
...my ankles, when they fail me. I need yet to be taught to sometimes stay in bed and not overwork myself to death.
...my bed, with my fluffy cushions and the stripe-patterned lamp that keeps ghosts and nightmare away
...words, who still manage not to fail me when I need them
...500 Days of Summer
...time. It passes slowly when you're waiting (whether it's for your train or for the heartache to pass), but it passes nontheless.
...taxi-drivers. They have provided me with enough material to stop postponing and star writing my book
...my dentist, who deep down is a therapist;p
...state therapists, who provide their service for free, should anyone need them
...the fact that I haven't needed a therapist yet
...Two and a Half Men, Blackadder and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Because they remind me that it should be easier to laugh than cry
...him. Because he will still make me laugh, even if all the above fails.
...you, who are reading these lines. Because you are probably me, in the near future.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Shark, alive
The cat hates to sit still.
She always manages her time thusly, so that she won't have a single moment to sit still and do nothing.
Relationships, one great man has said, are like sharks.
They have to constantly move, otherwise they die.
The cat thought the same thing about life.
But then of course, fate intervened.
Now, locked in bed for a whole week, the cat realises she is not a shark.
Staying still a little, won't kill her.
Will it?
She always manages her time thusly, so that she won't have a single moment to sit still and do nothing.
Relationships, one great man has said, are like sharks.
They have to constantly move, otherwise they die.
The cat thought the same thing about life.
But then of course, fate intervened.
Now, locked in bed for a whole week, the cat realises she is not a shark.
Staying still a little, won't kill her.
Will it?
Saturday, October 31, 2009
The Adult Fear
When the cat was just a tiny furball, she thought she was a lion.
She would rise her back and stretch her claws and her whiskers, like furious antenas would vibrate with glorious rage.
She would be always ready to fight men and shadows.
But as the years went by, the cat learnt too much.
She learnt that there are men you can't overcome, no matter how loud you hiss at them.
She learnt that there are some shadows that can literally consume you.
She became so accustomed with fear, that she ventures only things that don't really matter to her.
But our child self, sometimes knows better.
Sometimes, we are not as fragile as we have learnt to believe.
Sometimes, the cat should remember to act like a lion.
Even if, inside, she feels like a scared, tiny furball.
She would rise her back and stretch her claws and her whiskers, like furious antenas would vibrate with glorious rage.
She would be always ready to fight men and shadows.
But as the years went by, the cat learnt too much.
She learnt that there are men you can't overcome, no matter how loud you hiss at them.
She learnt that there are some shadows that can literally consume you.
She became so accustomed with fear, that she ventures only things that don't really matter to her.
But our child self, sometimes knows better.
Sometimes, we are not as fragile as we have learnt to believe.
Sometimes, the cat should remember to act like a lion.
Even if, inside, she feels like a scared, tiny furball.
Monday, October 26, 2009
When the cat is making plans...
...life happens.
So the cat must start dancing again, to a whole new tune.
After all, what is life if not improvisation?
The cat must remember that, or choose to be just a spectator of life.
So the cat must start dancing again, to a whole new tune.
After all, what is life if not improvisation?
The cat must remember that, or choose to be just a spectator of life.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Rain suit
A cat will never go out in the rain without matching accessories.
It's not a matter of weather, it is a matter of choice.
Style echoes best when there is noone around to notice it.
So, if she put on black skinny pants and a black beannie and a grey cardigan and grey ballerinas just to go to the DVD club...well, isn't that NOT a coincidence...
Back at home, a cheesecake is locked in the fridge.
And the rain hangs like a rope.
Im matching colours, always.
It's not a matter of weather, it is a matter of choice.
Style echoes best when there is noone around to notice it.
So, if she put on black skinny pants and a black beannie and a grey cardigan and grey ballerinas just to go to the DVD club...well, isn't that NOT a coincidence...
Back at home, a cheesecake is locked in the fridge.
And the rain hangs like a rope.
Im matching colours, always.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Flour for life
One is never truly at home, until one's kitchen smells of freshly baked muffins.
The cat knows that now.
The cat knows that now.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Waiting (fe)line
The cat looked outside the carved glass.
A buss, is a good metaphor for life, she thought. I'm now looking back at my past, heading straight to my future. And the present sometimes is blurred and nauseating.
So many bus-stops you're not descending at.
So many traffic lights to dazzle your eyes.
So many routes you could alternative choose.
And yet, in the end, you just have to leave your seat.
And go home.
A buss, is a good metaphor for life, she thought. I'm now looking back at my past, heading straight to my future. And the present sometimes is blurred and nauseating.
So many bus-stops you're not descending at.
So many traffic lights to dazzle your eyes.
So many routes you could alternative choose.
And yet, in the end, you just have to leave your seat.
And go home.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Groan
...says the cat when nobody will listen. Cause when the change kicks in, you start to realise all these little things you have to give away in order to accept it. Things you haven't really noticed, like the fact that you wash with your left hand, pardon, paw. Like the fact that you think with the left part of your brain. Everyday life is consisted of habits. And good old habits are difficult to break. Or are they?
Saturday, September 26, 2009
A sprinkle of nutmeg
The coffee is hot but plain, thought the cat. Just like many things in life. And believing for once that people can work their own magic, the cat added a sprinkle of nutmeg. And the aroma flourished, the taste transformed, the world shook. It wasn't just hot coffee anymore. It was a beloved, everyday habit, made new and special by just a bit of spice.
Friday, September 18, 2009
No...
...said the cat to days of yore. Back then, when she thought that happiness was in the seeds. The seeds, thought the cat now, are just the ugly moments.
Happiness on the other hand, is the whole fruit.
Happiness must have a flesh.
Happiness on the other hand, is the whole fruit.
Happiness must have a flesh.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Looniness is a state of mind
The cat was very happy to wear her green wellies again. Saturday morning, rain was falling and she took her purple umbrella and her no longer purple mood to the supermarket. Found some interesting sweeteners there, of the restrained kind. But the evil sun came out the next day like an ominous net. Inside the metro, she looked out of season. Like a mushroom glistening happily between raindrops. The woman in front of her, kept rolling cigarettes, putting them in her cigarette case. The man next to her, was dancing to his own shuffles, a superman wall-papered on his cell phone. The lady in front of him, kept cheking her watch and her mini-pot. Flowers of some sort. The cat with the green wellies looked outside. Through the glass, the metro was storming through in the opposite direction. Did the people in there look normal? Or was it just the double-insulating glass?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
09/09/09
A book that is about to be written
Dinner in the autumn air
A dress that fits
A song in Portoguese
Childrens toys up the stairs
The wooden sink
The old carved mirror
The song still plays in Portoguese
A voice that answers the phonecall
A taste acquired during holidays
The dress still fits
The color still makes you happy
Perfume of a rose we didn't need
A walk in the city
Two steps in the light
And the book is about to be written
Dinner in the autumn air
A dress that fits
A song in Portoguese
Childrens toys up the stairs
The wooden sink
The old carved mirror
The song still plays in Portoguese
A voice that answers the phonecall
A taste acquired during holidays
The dress still fits
The color still makes you happy
Perfume of a rose we didn't need
A walk in the city
Two steps in the light
And the book is about to be written
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Justice with foam
The cat drinks her morning coffee with two spoonfulls of milk foam. Justice hangs around there, like the cinnamon that gives color. Last night, there were some cats in Ulthar that must not be killed. Today, there are some questions in here that must not be uttered.
And the coffee, as everything, is elevated to an art project.
Winter kicks in, in a Magritte way.
And the coffee, as everything, is elevated to an art project.
Winter kicks in, in a Magritte way.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Creepy Fairytale
The cat that could speak in the button-eyed world knew too much.
The cat in this room looked at the stripy light in her room and decided she was right when thinking that dolls and mirrors have a life of their own.
Now, the doll with the blond hair sits tight on a chair and whispers of days of old.
Easter bunnies and board games.
A hammer out of place.
A fairytale in dusty corners.
All connected.
All wrapped up in a string around her finger
In web-looking words
Just like the old times, just like the new
The stripy light dims, like an air cabin while taking-off.
Taking off to Dreamland.
The cat in this room looked at the stripy light in her room and decided she was right when thinking that dolls and mirrors have a life of their own.
Now, the doll with the blond hair sits tight on a chair and whispers of days of old.
Easter bunnies and board games.
A hammer out of place.
A fairytale in dusty corners.
All connected.
All wrapped up in a string around her finger
In web-looking words
Just like the old times, just like the new
The stripy light dims, like an air cabin while taking-off.
Taking off to Dreamland.
Meow...
...said the queer looking ginger cat. She was ready to shuffle through her clothes, books and perfumes in search of a new beggining. She had already efficiently covered her bruise with concealer and glitter. And she was certain by now, September was her favorite month.
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