Is romantic love the aim or the distraction?

That girl on the train. Those eyes that carry more. The going along with everyone. The mechanic reverence to the rules of letting them out before getting in. The way she looks away when our eyes meet, not before I could capture her innate curiosity towards life. That she's tamed so well through careful everyday practice. She also has a phone and stares at it. And when she listens to the music, she knows I can see her. I recognise her - and that's when she smiles. I smile back. And then she goes, with a short-lived relief feeling that she's not alone. 

Old new certainties

Love is effortless. 

Perhaps the key is not existing.

I am fine. Even when I'm not.

Suffering is for the ego.

I am in peace with my doubts.

Afaste de mim esse cale-se.
Não o cálice.
Esse não.
Porque estou pronto.
Em silêncio e ainda assim aos berros.
Na minha esperança ingênua, recheada de pequenos gestos de todo dia.
Sangro e até morro, um pouco, aos poucos.
Pra que da minha morte, haja, espero ingênuo, mais vida.
Já que é essa a minha forma de dizer que estou vivo.