I have entered my name on Wu-Tang Name Generator (yes, because of Childish Gambino) and I got Profound Dreamer!! Seems appropriate.

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Fool of a Heart

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My dear heart,

You beat yourself up

To such little odds

You feed up my mind

With these naive thoughts

I don´t know if you deserve

Punishment or reward

For planting seeds

That may never grow

Fool of a heart,

Full of hope

All I see are flowers

Even though

I step on thorns

And still, you try…

Tell me, heart

Are you brave

Or are you just blind?

Generation

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From the East Side Gallery, Berlin.

 

Snowflake people,

Manifestation of a generation

Of ages of profit and production

We are taught

Not to feel, but to perform

Our emotions are hidden

Amongst the other billions

Searching for a spot

We must always do better and better

How can we matter?

I wish I was special

I want to stand out

Let me gain a voice

Even if in a racket choir

Let me write my mind

Even if I am so damn blind

To the truth, if there ever was one

We seek it, we are

Indigos, empaths, neo-hippies

We make theories about conspiracies

We release them

On channeled screens

Who dares to think like me?

Who can relate to me?

But do you have your own opinions

In this mass of critics?

Go ask Algorithm,

I think it´ll know

Who you should follow

Just don´t swallow

All you can read

At a half a second click

Be aware of baits

Yes, we are not at all perfect

But we are not the weakest

Link to the past

There are no good old days

Better than the premise of changing the ways

To stop monetization at the expense

Of Mother´s deterioration

We´ve reached today´s position

Through our elder populations

So let´s unite

And let all rainbow colors shine

We don´t want to feel like robots

We want to create robots who feel

I wonder if they will be

Much better than we are

What if we also had buttons to press

And stop whatever mess

We may do to ourselves?

So raise your head from your devices

Open your eyes, your heart, your borders

Over our walls is the only way

To see beyond these uncertain days.

Naked

Once you strip

To the core of your insecurity,

Unprotected in the open

Field of sun and sand.

 

When it´s you and the mirror

Enclosed in the cubicle.

Too close to ignore.

Too bright to stare.

 

Anger.

Guilt.

Isolation.

Shame.

 

Some will say you worry too much,

As if you were a frivolous girl.

Some will say you stopped caring

And let yourself go.

 

Because after all,

You should just be “you”.

When within catalogued pages,

They will fuck you too.

Névoa

Esta convicção de que há

Algo de errado comigo

Não conto

A ninguém

Escondo

Engulo

Até a garganta doer

Escondo-a de mim

Embora saiba

Que todos me podem ver

Inapta

Inadequada

Inerte

Inanimada

Há qualquer coisa

Que me ata os braços

Que me pesa os passos

Que me povoa a mente

Uma enchente

De neblina

Já não sei pensar

Sou apenas um pântano

De emoções que acendem

Como fogos-fátuos

Apenas sorrio

Para que me esqueça

E eles também

De que não sei pertencer

A nenhum lugar

A não ser

À névoa na minha cabeça.

Deriva

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Quando eu era mais menina

Achava que a vida

Por si só, era sabida

Eu a ia levando

E um dia ela ia me levar

Ao meu devido lugar

Como a maré

Hora em calma, hora em fúria

Devolve às terras o que nela flutua

Meu momento iria chegar

Continua porém a minha deriva

Embalam-me as ondas desta vida

Foram-se, qual tempo, os remos

E eu, sem porto onde repousar

Procuro apenas não naufragar.