a little chubby on my belly and you can hear it in my coughing words
The sky is dry, and its crazy to think that 3pm here is 3am there. Now we�re a whole day apart.
I put music on, the kind you can feel in your skin. I thought I would be able to squeeze somejuice out short of seeds.
Dreaming up my future keeps my soul awake in endless class sessions. And the world hates our team.
One thing that I never realized thatI loved about my history tewachers is that they never said anything bad about another country. THey were neutral. Although there was Freshman year. She spent a year in Crete and seemed to hate the reast of us. She�s back there now.
-History class... ``Voc� est� conhecendo a historia do seculo 18, historia do seculo 20 � um c�o...��
``You are meeting the history of the 18th century, the history from the 20th century is a dog��. And I smile, letting down my head. Heads turn, and that�s me, sweet old smiling American girl.
Questions about our president, and if we all love him. Its hard that he is the face of America. But not our America. I grew up with bad words about the states as if I was supposed to patch it up and make it all better. It was bad say a out as if you were saying ``owt��. And the American flag was ugly, at least that�s what Mama said. I associated words like ``duh�� to Americans and the cool swift ``eh�� to Canadians.
Now I gather words to explain my country, say sory for it as a whole.
They hate us, you know.
WE�re angry with our country too.. but today I was just tired of it. I�m tired of explaining that all Americans aren�t the image that the world has of us.
Then I was asked... ``Do you get mad when people say bad things about the Estados Unidos?�� In the portuguese I knew I explained that I don�t get mad.. that I only get mad at the fact that through exchange I have realized how separated our countries are and that we live off of stereotypes. That we are worlds apart at a time when we need to come together more than anything. I told I was used to people all my life saying how much they were upset with or hated the States.. that I was just used to it. People telling me the wrongs of my country. Even Americans themselves.
-- And now I�m tired, how is it this happenes where I just lose complete track of my words, or I try too hard, in telling one singlke stpry and the fat cells come back. LIke tying to push out a pimple, its impossible for me to form words that I want to say.
I can show my face where I said puckered lipped and cold. Feeling that type of itch inside,where no mater how far I run I will always find groups of closed minded people.. following the path that was created for them away fromt eh heart. Following in groups like our herding ancestors.
Sweet injected in my tongue and I�m searching for a way to escape inside myself, but even now its impossible to be alone.
I have a billion dreams.
Tuesday, Mar. 20, 2007
2:47 p.m.
2:47 p.m.