You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘writer’ tag.

I drank the afternoon

Thinking it would help me…

It just took the time from under my years

But it didn’t subtract – that’s the problem with time

It keeps adding…

So the afternoon was gone and now I have to prepare for the night

The night is so mysterious

So secretive – shadows to follow

Eventually I’ll catch the shadow – or it will catch up with me

And we’ll waltz against the walls

And celebrate the morning to come

And laugh at the time we spent

Trying to drink the afternoons

Until one of us surrender to the light

And fades – or dies…


I played a lot in Brazil – I played Teacher, Singer, Actress, Writer – and while playing and flirting with all that, I had fun. Then I became an immigrant, an outsider – even though I came here legally – and I had to learn to play a new game called work and worry about money, about status, about fitting, having. I never had to worry about those things before – I never had to fit because I felt I belonged to many tribes: the singer, the actress, the teacher, the writer – I even played secretary once and it was still fun! Now I don’t know who I am anymore: I have doubled my size to fit this other person in me. And I don’t really know what to do with her… she does not allow me to really play! Work and money should be fun… I am a citizen now and I thought things were going to change a bit, but I still feel the outsider… when will I be able to play with them?…

Blog Stats

  • 1,497 hits

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 33 other followers