Long Time No Write

Hi folks!

It’s been a while – mea culpa!

Some of you may have followed me on Instagram and Twitter for shorter updates and random thoughts. (And the Star Wars hair styles I did today and yesterday to entertain a co-worker, go look at them on IG if you need a chuckle!) I really want to get back into writing; I’m just not sure of the format.

There are some topics I want to touch, but I’d like to put more effort into these.

• Getting in touch with your body and your identity through martial arts (and handling blunt weapons, lol)
• Contentment vs. happiness
• Space (I’d love to create something about planets, moons, and asteroids, playing with different ideas right now)
• Navigating life with a mind full of opposites
• Background noise
• …

I’m busy with work most days and want to keep this blog completely separate from my job for different reasons. I’m still a linguist, doing linguist things in a language project for a big company, destroying (and fixing) templates, and occasionally dabbling in logic programming for internal purposes, while filling my desk with plants, listening to weird music, and drinking a little too much espresso. Sometimes I fold origami manta rays and other creatures when I need a break.

A long due update on my journey in capoeira will follow shortly!

Now I’m going to install the WP app on the “new” phone I got some months ago, so stay tuned for new random poetry spam.

See you soon!

PS: The last few months I didn’t find motivation for photography beyond the low-quality phone snapshots and I still haven’t posted the images from the last wedding I photographed. Life has been crazy, the weather disgusting, and nothing really interesting was going on. I’m waiting for the sky to clear so I can take pictures of the moon with my new tele-zoom lens, then next month I’ll be at the big annual capoeira workshop with my camera.

 

 

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Vague Thoughts

I have a lot of thoughts in my head these days, but they are somewhat vague, some hazy, some blurred, some to quick and complex to be caught in words yet. I want to write more again, more often, more organized. I tried to push forward in life and suppressed that creative voice inside, tried to find a more grown-up creativity, tried to press myself in a mold I won’t ever fit. Lately I’ve been going back to reading my old stories – the really crazy, surreal ones (mostly SciFi fanfiction with random strange occurrences) – and to watching the old shows that had been my refugium in teenage years. I want to write again, and try to voice my old sense of wonder again, to put down the absurd episodes my brain brings up whenever given the opportunity to breathe. Maybe someday I’ll find a story that will be wondrous enough to captivate others.

Also, future not clear yet. Destination unknown. Vague ideas, nothing tangible.

I want to write to you.

I want to write to you about the tiny moments, the dark ones and the lighter ones, about the universe reflected in your eyes and about the black holes in our hearts. I want to write to you, but all I ever do is waiting in silence for an echo of my thoughts to find its way back to me in one of your messages, the messages none of us ever write. I want to write to you in poetry, in wordless, helpless shrugs, in emotional source code lacking decipherable equivalents in the human language we share and yet don’t. I want to write to you, one of you, all of you. I want to write to you, but the only ones who answer my nightly whispers are the digital ghosts of strangers, speaking to me in wondrous metaphors of radio dials and crackling static.

~

poets’ nightly words
travelling through the ether
undying in space

~

poet’s mind on the run

Maybe a poet’s mind has to be on the run most of the time in order to create and cover enough ground for all those thoughts.
So keep writing, keep writing, and never stop.
When the paper runs out, write on snow and concrete and whale backs.
Write on lanes and avenues,
keep scrawling and thinking and keep the words coming,
fill city voids with cursive and cover scycraper walls in the boldest letters you can muster.
When the words run out, keep running.
A poet’s mind on the run will cover miles of desertlands,
but at the end of the day there’s a chance to rest on tree stumps beneath clouds of words,
and the words they will keep falling, falling in place
in a poet’s mind on the run.

 

 

 

~

Dear brain, you are very annoying. Please shut up for a moment. I’m not interested in purple jellyfish and their connection to street lamps. Arrgh. Anyone wants to trade brains with me? >.<

I will play

Maybe one day
When they’ve thrown me to the ground
One will be there
To hand me the cord in welcome
Offering the white flower of peace and protection
I don’t know by what name they will call me
But I will answer and play.

 

 

 

~~~

I guess I found a new source of inspiration for writing, finally.