When confronted with death, something in you changes forever, each and every time.

Perspective is everything and suddenly you realize with incredible clarity what's truly important in life.

I feel that we spend a great deal of time making up excuses for our inertia. We've grown used to it. And the sad truth is that most of us need this kind of push in order to move, in order to start living.

As for me, for some reason, I've always thought that my expiration date wouldn't be very long. Basically, when I imagine my future, I see nothing. Blank canvas.

When asked where they will be in 5 years, most people are able to give you a detailed description of where they think they will be, doing what and with whom. I cannot utter a single word. And that scares the hell out of me.

So I've decided some time ago to try to waste as little time as possible. To do what I like, what I think is right. Go where I want to. Make every minute count. Because time stops for no man and who knows if there will be another tomorrow…

Imperfect.
Flawed.
Glitched.

Every now and then, life kicks you around. I am obviously no exception. A few months ago, I got shaken and stirred.

Attitudes and actions beyond my comprehension, words sharper than knives. A test of patience? Faith? Courage? Willpower?
There were nights I couldn't sleep. There were times I couldn't eat. At times it felt like a hole had been drilled into my soul.

I clearly felt that if I cried, I would feel much better, I would feel some sort of relief. I constantly felt that if only I cried, part of the hurt would instantly be released. But no matter how much I wanted to or even tried, I just couldn't.

A song would make me cry. A movie would make me cry. A cheesy scene from a stupid TV show would make me cry. But when confronted with my own painful reality, I couldn't shed one single tear.



You don't know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have.

And I had no other choice...

Love is stronger than death, even though it can't stop death from happening. But no matter how hard death tries, it can't separate people from love.
It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death.



(I hope you're happy wherever you are...)

I've been going through some old documents and files. It's curious to read things you wrote one or two or even three years ago and realize that you are not that different. And that some of those things could have been written now.

Because you are who you are and you feel things just the same. It's your actions before those feelings and thoughts that may differ, and that is called experience.
You live, you make mistakes, you learn, you grow, you evolve... But who you are at its core doesn't change. Your essence remains the same.

And all the things I believed in back then are still the things I believe in now.

I still believe that love is the answer to everything. I still believe in freedom, above all things. In the magic of a moment. Hope against hope. The importance of the little things. I still believe in believing.

Once a dreamer, always a dreamer.

Porque é que pedimos os conselhos dos outros se não os seguimos?

Será que aprendemos realmente com os nosso erros? Às vezes tenho (quase) a certeza que não.

Serei masoquista ou simplesmente muito burra?



(Here we go again, one more roll of the dice...)