# Every revolution begins with a spark

"I got home, I'm fine.
The confrontation didn't come to me, thank God. I arrived late, which was a shame, for this reason I can't talk much about the event as a whole, I can only speak of what I saw.
Where I was, things were going very well, everybody quiet, only singing and shouting phrases theme of our "revolution." Until then, the police was on the peace too, until one of the leaders of the manifesto announced from the trio that the police were starting with the ass kicking again. And he said the Congress had been hacked and was rolling a ugly confrontation in ALERJ.
HERE TO STAY CLEAR: I DON'T AGREE WITH VIOLENCE. And neither most of the people who is on the streets, thank God. By the time the girl began to celebrate the ALERJ ass kicking in, everyone started screaming: "NO VIOLENCE! WITHOUT VIOLENCE! WITHOUT VIOLENCE!" And I screamed together, and even pulled the same sentence after a while.
We can not match the pigs who are the police much less the fucking government. In São Paulo, the riot was withdrawn, they got the message. So why not here too? And they got it peacefully, without this vandalism that this minority hell did and because it can end up burning a majority argument that has to change things pacifically.
Loved to have gone, if not gone, I would have regretted. I regret being late, but being late is better than not having arrived. And the next time I go back, you can be sure of that. I'll more prepared next time, I'll bring the vinegar, because for those who do not know, it cuts the effect of tear gas, and I wrap myself in the flag of Brazil, for obvious reasons.

We are fighting for our rights, we want the end of corruption and neglect of the government to the people. It's now or never!
The small group that is doing such vandalism, was hired by the government in an attempt to sabotage the movement. WILL NOT GET IT, THE BRAZIL WOKE UP!

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, I am PROUD FOR BEING BRAZILIAN, and ashamed BY A MINORITY WHO NOT DESERVE TO BE CALLED BRAZILIANS."


Account of my experience at the demonstration held in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, on June 17, 2013.
Historical moment, I will never forget!

Open sky, a shelter

I don't know who I am

I don't know where I'm going.

I don't remember the day I got here

But I remember the day you arrived.

The signs advised me

The signs warned me

But the universe and my heart didn't help. 

And here we are, standing on the same splitter that much water flow into.

So many doubts and certainties

The same place where so many people loved each other.

And we live here, in the open sky

but you are my refuge,

The reason for every smile.

I don't belong anywhere

I don't know of my family tree

And I have no answer.

I can't explain the reason for my delay

I can't explain why I can't go

You became my heart, my tree, my soul, my place

the translation of each song.

You became each memory

and here,

and now.

Just one love

But any representation of my trajetory.

Probably a pain

But a happiness, for sure.

I don't know how to sleep,

I don't know how to describe this feeling,

Don't know where I'm going.

I do not remember the day I arrived here

But I remember the day you arrived.

No one else but Me

Just like my shoe
Everything has two sides.
Sometimes even three, who knows?
We can have how many sides we want to.

My shoe is black in the outside, 
but in the inside, it's pink like nothing else but a passionate girl.
It's pink like nothing but a happy day.
It's pink like nothing but a good news.
It's pink like nothing but love.
It's pink like no one else but Me.

It drives me to everywhere 
There are some places I wanna go, but there are some that I want to stay away.
Sometimes I think it always change its colour
The outside is the same, 
but the inside, is different always and forever,
All the time.

Yesterday, it was blue, today is red.
But it's always pink, 
like no one else but Me.

Large hole

I have some problems about giving up ...
Things keep repeating in my head,
and I just keep hoping that they will disappear in a large hole
But they will not.

Sometimes I have strange dreams and intriguing that make me forget about them for a moment
But the next minute, they turn to the same torment.
Why can not I just give up?
My mind controls me and puts me in a state of madness
All these things are eating me up inside
It's as if nothing ever taught me enough
And I'm still hurting.

I'm tired.
Tired physically, emotionally
and irritated by these mental ghosts.
Why the past can not be left behind?
I don't want this disruption, I just want what this disappear in a large hole.

Original

Why I have to be a stereotype?
The typical carioca scuff
Tanned, small breasts
Brown or golden hair excessively.

Why can not I be different without being called a "branquela"?
Why can not I go to the movies on a sunny day?
Why can not sit quietly and read a book?
Why can not I go to a party and not get drunk and desperate to get kissed?

Why I have to be a stereotype?
Why can not I just be a person who does not put knee socks
and stay the whole day working out legs and arms
Or putting on hairpieces hair?

Why it's weird like Rock?
Know the lyrics, and raise money to go to shows
Where there are women with stage objects wiggling their asses half naked?
Why?

I was not born to be stereotype.
I was not born to please everyone, not even half.
I was not born to be a slave to fashion
Or a robot media
Or a practitioner of mediocrity.

I was born to be, just my way.
There is no right or wrong personality
There are only
People originals or robotic.

Midday sun

I like to transit through the ages, especially in many auroras of my life ...

Yes, I had many, but I think from now on I will not have any more.

For now I'm here in full midday sun.

A strong and bright sun, hot and tiring.

A sun that makes me want to go and hide five hundred meters of the next thousand.

That brings me a sense of independence, but also of loneliness.

It's desperation and gratitude, speed and vastness.

It's all or nothing, is almost a moment of madness and sanity almost an exaggerated.

But I have lived through many things during my short life long before I came here,

this midday sun.

Have you laughed, ran, cried and remembered always.

I've loved and left

And I've already doubted.

And always, always felt.

I've had one last hope dead.

And a bruised face for having slammed the door.

Have danced laughing like a pie and always says things that nobody cares.

I remember it all

Each small end and every great beginning.

I'm here to burn in the midday sun

I'm here to make sure everything goes

To be able to find my way, get closer every day.

Make great sacrifices and me playing small buildings,

Because the truth is, I deserve every once in a while a disappearance.

The truth is that I am in a midday sun.

Waves

I do not understand this wind that changes direction at all times

Sometimes it blows in two directions at once.

How can I remove the hairs that do not release my eyes

to see?

How can I go on without flinching?

It is allowed to stop doubting?

It is as if not beloved

It's not as if anything was left

It's like you're trapped and buried

same crap in perspective.

Blinded by my own eyes

Caught in my own life.

If someone asks,

Say I sent the sea advancing

If someone calls me

say that I got and I will not come back

If someone caring

say that there is no one else to worry about.

I hung up the tears

Destroy the memories

Kept frozen smiles

the most perfect spectacle

I forgot the reasons

I burned all watches

in each wave that took me to everywhere

that was not my mind.

That was not my life.

That was not in the cell with the older wounds.

That was not me.

That just was not.

But when it came time to open your eyes

I understand that there were waves of the sea.

They were just waves of my hair

Topping my eyes

allowing me to live my dreams

Saving me from all worldly thoughts.

And this was my paradise

And my biggest risk.

Bit by bit

Gradually, the passage of time will happen ...
The diapers will be left by the way, fall of innocent smiles teeth, spines and thorns born in flatter faces and purest hearts marked by early traumas.
Jokes replaced by silly conversations and actions coming from foolish hearts, that look like the exact jokes before ... Only now, in bad taste.
The blood will not be nearly so important when we're talking about who we love.
And we will know new homes, new neighborhoods, new cities, and different forms of always wanting to be more independent.

Gradually, the passage of time will happen ...
Sleepless nights will be lived; fortified opinions and enraged, tears and ecstasy are uncontrolled; love will be present even in moments of intense loneliness.
You'll be that girl in the darkness looking at the sky lit only by bright stars, old, deleted and burning, as well as their willingness to go ...
You will observe that that boy that girl starlit sky of infinite possibilities, wishes, dreams and desires, and you will want to go with it ...

Gradually, the passage of time will happen ...
Vai vai want to run and want to paralyze; vai vai want to release and want to imprison; vai vai want to want to love and hate ... Vai love and hate.
Vai put on shoes to run, will take him to swim.
It will change your mind on a second, will regret for a minute.
Will be proud of wise choices, will lament the failures.
Will rotate in the same place and everywhere;
Will grow, will scream, will laugh, cry, will not ever stop.

Gradually, the passage of time will happen ...
Life is going to go a little deeper, will make it more difficult, and will awaken the will to live it over and over.
Vai battle more and complain a little too much.
Will have power, but not as much as I would like.
Vai plan, and regret getting rid of everything in times of outbreak.
'll Wonder, will listen, speak and will cover my ears.
'll Break your face, will repent and change a little more.

Gradually, the passage of time will happen ...
All those friends who seemed irreplaceable disappear and become nothing more than a tale of ghosts summer;
All the older features will intensify and evolve, all will understand will increase, and with time everyone will understand that more important to understand, to feel, to witness, live.
Everything will always stay the same way different.

Everything vanishes, everything changes, everything evolves, collapses, breaks, darkens, rots, reborn, preserves and forgets.
Everything is fleeting, because every second constant, the passage of time is going.

Web

As a dance ...

A chase, a robbery, a prize.

This is the life.

Gracious

like the steps of a dance;

Stalker

as unfinished business;

Burglar

a moment like that can get you out of everything;

Which rewards

as a reward for something well done, or just coincidence.

Coincidence?

There are even coincidences in life?

Everything is premeditated or just related?

Result will be?

We're all just characters in a huge web of events.

These events linked by each of us and that can only happen by our actions.

Maybe there's destiny, but that's just another question, another question, which is unlikely to be answered or terminated at some time ...

But surely there is action and reaction.

The driver and the driven.

The pursuer and the pursued.

The robber and the robbed.

Who gives the award and the recipient.

And as always, those of the opposite or the same side.

Joining a group of people, may be the greatest blessing or the greatest curse.

But life always takes care to make the truth appear sincere and ties are strengthened when more and more and more.

Over time, through each point,

that can’t be quenched by anything, not even the strongest of winds.

In the mind

Who knows if I smile or cry while alive?

Who can know if there is a forced smile or a fake crying?

Who knows if I feel something, if not indifference?

Who knows differentiate the different energies of my presence?

I can make someone feel very

But it also can cause the feeling that to please me, you should go much further

Behind my youthful face

There is a life where the largest part is made of temporal

Behind my smile innocent

There is here a strategic mind.

I'm not a serpent, I'm surviving.

And who is a survivor, knows that to continue walking,

must learn to control the mind.

Who is survivor, knows that he must focus on one thing

so that others will at once finally.

Who is survivor, knows that he must be decent and polite and smiling.

Who is survivor knows how to act in the midst of so many people.

Only when one learns that at any moment everything can be different

It is understood that what is to be determined

And fearless, and focused.

For one thing you want

is only different

to be ever closer to us.

There's nothing like the power of the mind.

Wanted

I don't know because I have within me,

this desire to depart

I hate getting, I always go...

Not that I have a place in mind

That's the point: I don't want to root.

I always felt so... Wrong.

In the wrong place, wrong with people, wrong, always wrong.

I've never been where it should be.

And where I should be, is not a place

It's a way of life, a feeling to have a philosophy to believe.

And you can only have these things without a place.

The ideal is to get lost, know everything, undo the concepts more concrete, make what you need and what not need to do.

For no one lives of logic.

The strongest people are the craziest.

The ideal is to lose... Drive, fly or walk

Only this way is possible find yourself.

Lovesong

I think it all happened today.

Nothing really mattered before today, or last, or made ​​sense

That touched me.

It happened today

Today was the first day of my life.

Today was everything and nothing during my attack epiphany.

I may not go far

But at least I can say I've had today.

I woke up today was the first time

And today I was really addicted me on The Cure.

Was today, all today.

Today I pretended I had no legs

And in their place, only wheels that took me everywhere.

Until I arrived in a deserted street, a city at war, in a neighborhood on alert.

And I fell in love after spending years being just dirt.

And it was at this time that the war ended

And the whole city was celebrating.

Maybe I do not go very far

But my daydreams take me where I want.

My legs do not deny

Nothing to my wheels do not settle down.

We arrived where we always get

And do not waste time, because we do not want to cry.

I think it happened today.

In a slow dance of the 80s, under an old tent, a delicate touch like I was ripping be made by income.

And then an invasion.

The one I wanted for a long time

That I knew I incendiary inside.

And caught fire.

The fire made ​​me whole new, and here I am.

No need to wake up tomorrow

No need to remember what happened yesterday

For today, my life flew.

It flew so fast that began and ended.

It lasted three minutes and twenty eight seconds

In a slow dance of the 80s, under an old tent, a delicate touch like I was ripping be made by income.

Run

Run away, Run away, Run away.

Sometimes running away is the best option for those who have no other than becoming part of the floor.

Run away gossip, escape of waste and anything that can become addictive.

Get away from anything that could become something to push you off the cliff.

Run away, Run away, Run away.

Refusing a problem is not becoming a coward

You know how far you can go

And with that, not rolling

And do not miss the opportunity to always smile.

No, do not let other people's problems you take the right to smile.

Do not lie, just do not get to hear

Simply run away from everything that does not make you good and for others too.

Run away, Run away, Run away.

Save yourself the madness of others.

Do not listen to anything that could bury you under the heavier sand.

A web of gossip or problems tends to explode someday

So beware, it is best to flee from certain companies.

You never know who might burst your web

Or who can cause you agony ...

In any case, do not construct the web

Be free, protect yourself from the evil alien.

Run away, Run away, Run away

Not worth getting and become a dirty person.

Personas

I like my perfume walk around

For the mind of the people and the mess up.

I like being able to give love

When someone is in pain.

I like lots of color,

And taste,

Heat ...

Heat but only from people

Most of the time, I want the weather be cold

Just so I can feel the heat better of them all,

And his presence and smiles.

They say the freaks have charm

They say the straights too much have no courage ...

Courage to make a big change,

Or a haircut,

Or to admit mistakes,

And have a good laugh like a child

And that way, every day, restoring hope.

There are people of all shapes and ways

There are many beautiful and ugly

There are boring and crazy

And there is also the worst kind:

Who does not live only exists.

Friend

Do not miss having friends. Just miss having people around me, because I like to observe them.
I like to be part of their little lives filled with problems - it helps me to get away a bit of my opinion and we all are always dissatisfied, no matter how serious or silly things with, because this is a human being, an eternal dissatisfied, Always looking for something without knowing what it is. I think that is what drives us and motivates us to change and not remain frozen.
I never had friends and now, looking back, I'm sure. I've always been friends with many people, but being a friend is not the same as having friends. Always heard many people, always gave a lot of advice, always wet with tears and her shoulders choked people with hugs, but never, ever had anything like that back the way I always gave. I can not complain, because people are different from each other and from me, mostly. If I do not quite understand my head, imagine other people ... And maybe that's my fate: being friends with many, but not having any friends.
Since childhood I have always been that kind of person who likes to help and advise people. Not that they did not want me to hear too - always wanted to find someone to give me the importance I give to each of them, but it never happened. And somehow, this has always been therapeutic means to me, after all, who does not feel lighter, more at peace, when you can help someone? Some people do not mind, but I can not see someone suffering and not try to do something to help. Maybe I'm just nosy, or maybe the world needs more people who care about others and do not be all the time focused on their monotonous lives.
I'm terrible at making up stories about people, but wrote numerous books with the stories of others, surely. The fiction that comes out of me is always based on real facts, I never write something totally invented. Can I improve, framing, exaggerate, dramatize, add adjectives strong, but the base is always real. And that's what I like: give life to the lives greatly exaggerated stops. Shoot everyone from coma with words, whether writing, speaking words. I think that's what a friend does, even if not the same in return. I may not have friends, but at least I can say I'm friends with someone. Few have that privilege, most secretly envious friends and fold small pieces to continue each in its proper place. I want more is each one is great in its own way, but for my part, I suppose I can not wait for anybody but i can do for me.
Maybe they are my friends just because they let me be their friend, because few things make me happier than helping someone. And is not that what friends do? They give each other little moments of happiness and personal satisfaction...?

Black hole

She felt joy

But inside, that old feeling of defeat, laugh ...

Laugh of debauchery.

The laughter was like a warning

In what was to come a boycott.

And at times she was really happy

Because things were happening that she always wanted

But when no one was looking

She failed to surface

its true essence:

She owned a sad soul.

Some people do not understand why they can not be happy

Even with all the possible reasons...

But that girl had a hole

That was much deeper and older

Than any moment of happiness just happened.

She did not know how to handle it

She did not know how to expel once that feeling of emptiness.

And then there was, she realized her dream of happily ever after

It would never be possible

For a person like her sad soul

The ideal was to settle for a few moments of happiness

Brief moments, just to feed your heart a little utopian.

Moments illusory, because the reality was even a bale full of absences and spaces...

Train

The train show they will leave. Will start, he is accelerating slowly until a continuous speed. And he continues. And it continues. And it continues. You keep going to the place of destination, but who knows if it will really get us to this place of destiny? And if something happens along the way? And if something happens to the rails of the station, or signaling, or with anything else? And if it catches fire? What if ...?

Anything can happen, but sooner or later we reached our destination, whatever it. May be a person, may be a breakthrough may be the end of a great trajectory. It can be anything, as long as this thing gets. And when it arrives, is the end, there is nothing else, is the purpose of the trip is the end of expectations, the end of plans and ideas. It's the end of a reason to live. But will it really end there? Every time we reach the end, automatically begin a new path for a new order. So there is no real end. It's just a door that closes for an upcoming open.

Who takes the train at the station has an idea of ​​what will happen. Know where the train vai, vai know how, you know that the trip will start slowly and at a certain moment a speed that can even be frightening. Or simply cause adrenaline, but an adrenaline rush that makes you smile for the euphoria it causes. Who takes the train at the station knows all this, but who takes the train and already in motion? Or next season? Who picks up with something halfway, or a quarter of the battle, or more than half of the battle do not know where you stand, do not know where you're getting into, know nothing. Who takes something that already has history only have time to do a brief reconnaissance of the site and hope that everything goes right. Who gets something moving just have to fight to get time to board, not to twist and fall pray to be as expected. Who gets a moving train can only wish that there still is a place. A place that is between people not so experienced, or not so lost, so hopeless or not, or not so old. Who gets a moving train someone wants to share ideas, someone wants to build along with it. But who gets a moving train knows that this rarely happens. Who gets in place already occupied can only shape the customs and rules. Who gets in place already occupied can only hope not to be rejected. Who gets in place already occupied have to prepare for any surprises that are going to happen along the way. Who gets into busy place, have to give thanks to God if you have a place, even if it is tight.

There are people who turn to go right in the middle of a train in motion and already full, but there are people trying to adapt without denying self. These people usually go down next season, but on rare occasions can empty an entire wagon. Can be gained by having confidence and admiration, or can be run by collective or expulsion.

But who knows what will happen on a moving train? Who knows if it's a good idea into a place already occupied, who knows if there is precipitate? No one can know, but to have the answers, you need to come and see what can happen. If it does not work, the next season will always be available to descend. And there you can catch a train or simply close out the season and see what's good.
The end does not exist because it has no end.

In flames

People like me, who have the spirit of revolt within, are always crazy looking for something new, something different, something that puts the soul in ecstasy and heart ablaze.
But these are times of peace. The war is over, and the sparks that turned everything on fire some time ago, were finished, calmed down. All went to their homes to celebrate the end of the war, and I got out, I went out like never before left, after being arrested throughout the war period.
At the time I was arrested, I remember having lighted matches repeatedly, hoping that the little light on my fingers broaden and enlighten the world. To enlighten my world, who long ago walked off and opaque. And it happens that one day, one of the matches has morphed into one person. Leticia, my guardian angel, my friend who never forgot me, even though I've been missing so long. Leticia was the mediator in a peace treaty in the war I fought with myself doing time. Sometimes people are just people. In others, people are the factor that determines everything and nothing, the young and old, defeat and hope. What would we be if we are not connected to others throughout our lives mysterious? This particular connection, set me free so I'm in a mood so radiant that no word invented to describe him the way he is he entirely.
I spent some time in a coma. It had nothing to grab me, I had no hope for comfort, had no light to guide me. I felt nothing and did not want to feel. Do not know what to do and did not know where to go. But those times are past. For my soul revolution is more awake than ever and everything I thought I had just turned into me with everything. These are times of peace, but even in peacetime, small revolutions happen every day, comes subtly, no one feels. And when you realize, when you look in the mirror, you know that will never be the same. When the mind opens, never returns to close. But with that comes consequences, and many other insights that you did not have before. Even in peacetime, every day the revolution remains alive within you. In me she has the energy of a young dreamer, determined and accelerated. For me it's all or nothing, and I hope it's always like that.

The different

Between jewels can be brass.

There may be mud, glass and deception.

But even if all the jewels together are brighter, true and beautiful that brass

It is a fact that he will always be those who will call more attention.

The different lures.

The arouses different feelings - even negative.

The different causes doubts

And confirmations.

The strikes always different somehow.

And cause sudden reactions.

Between jewels and mud

Between the beauty and drama

The different always gets everyone on alert

As a pump.

Nobody knows if it will explode

But if protect before.

But it has a different thing that the pump does not have:

He does not need anyone to push the button

And he does not expect everyone to flee

For no one can see or feel

It changes everything without even explode.

Normalities

I find it funny that these people know the love of their lives in the movies, the mall, the library, on the bus, anywhere where you do not expect interaction with another person, who is just like you or what you are doing. Do not speak in ballad, because nobody ballad finds a soul mate. In ballad nobody wants anything, just the night, just now, very different from finding the love of your life. But it's amazing how in the movies the love of your life is just around the nearest corner, as if there soulmate in the same amount that prostitute dawn.
I'm going to the movies every week, even alone, without any problem. Who sits on my side? Fat girls, weird guys, guys pulling matter the time of the film, but even the record belongs to the elderly. It must be my karma.
There was a time I was coming back from my mother's house and had to endure all get squeezed, tart, super uncomfortable, for more than two hours inside the stinky bus that crosses the Rio-Niterói Bridge. Heat of hell, hell bottling and there I sat next to a guy who looked more like a gorilla than a person. He was all off, he had a huge trunk, huge arms (not learned to distinguish whether it was fat or muscle, but I guess it did not matter much to my discomfort) and annoyingly kept touching me all the time. I looked at the man and he wondered beating his chest like a gorilla in the jungle and my desire was to punch him, push, do something to push him away. But I did nothing, because my hand is small that disappear. And so were more than two hours squeezed.
Anyway, what I mean is that reality is not as beautiful as we imagined. Reality is boring, it's rude, it's smelly, it's a gorilla that swallows all our hope in the world and humans. Reality can destroy any time it should be gentle, relaxing, or simply normal. My reality is mostly comic, ridiculously annoying or boring. But I think real life is like for most people, not just for me.
At least I can still laugh about it after a while, and significantly increasing my list of weird moments. Meanwhile I go about doing my stuff, writing, observing people. Not everything is quite good and not too bad, sometimes it's just a normal middle ground. But most of the time things happen to me as 8 or 80, you'll know why.