Figuring out

Walking down the avenue in my yoga pants and bad-hair-day, I started thinking about how crazy versatile I actually am. Let’s see. Last week I wrote depressing poetry, a fake sarcastic obituary and an article about my home town. I felt like a young adult going on interviews and holding hands in the cinema. I felt like a crazy teenager getting drunk during La Mercé and having wild sex with the hottest guy I know. I had my feet on the ground, my body disintegrating, my head travelling around the universo, getting lost forever in blustering orgasms and nonsense feelings… Suddenly I thought about moving back to my country, or to move abroad once again. London, New York and Brazil popped up in my mind. But then I bought a cactus, I felt like decorating my tiny bedroom. I realized I won’t be leaving this town any time soon. The other morning I ate 3 donuts. Not kidding. Then I did my groceries in a biological store and spend almost 20€ in 3 little products. I felt guilty and poor, I felt healthy and conscious. I spent a whole afternoon shopping in the most mainstream stores and then signed up for yoga classes. I wore a dress with high heels to have a beer near the beach, and jeans with a hippie top to a fancy concert at Palau de la Música. I have no clue. Maybe this is not about versatility but a small – cof cof – demonstration of how bipolar I am. Definitely nuts.

-nenis

discoveries

Lately I’ve been finding out unexpected things about myself

1) Confirming psychological studies, I discovered that my personality changes according to the language I'm writing or speaking. I struggled to define these personalities until recently. Curious result ... It seems that my worst personality is linked to the Spanish. Perhaps because, despite everything, I still don’t feel 100% confident with the language... And because sometimes I still have the feeling that I live surrounded by pseudo-gypsies who have no soul. (I'm sorry Spanish people).

English. I discovered that I am much more "cool" with English. It's my funniest personality and perhaps troublemaker. I have no shame when I express myself in English. And the fact that I know some slang vocabulary - thanks to the movies, of course - I gained some extra confidence. Truth be told, I can often trick people about my origins.

Portuguese, sweet mother tongue. This is my depressive personality. For real. It is the language of the nefarious feelings, poetry, melancholy, you know ... of saudade.

It is the most beautiful language and the only one that overflows with emotions and higher dimensions. But it is damn sad. Like fado. Like the gray streets of Lisbon.

After all, it is amusing - and even positive - that my day-to day life is not reduced to a single language. Of course I often find myself with bipolar behavior - tripolar?! - but I actually like it.

I end up thinking I have several heteronyms like Fernando Pessoa… Just have not yet baptized them decently. Gotta work on that.

2) Apparently I have no limits. And if I do, they must be very VERY far away from my sight… They seem nonexistent from where I’m standing right now. I cannot tell you specifically what I’m talking about... Maybe one day. For now this is all I can say: I'm flying high like the sky would never end and I have no fear of falling. I discovered that one of life's greatest pleasures is precisely this: to test our own barriers and go beyond the comfort zone. Amazing thing do happen when the line is crossed!

3) A very sad conclusion: I'm not homesick. Yeah, of courseeeee I miss my parents and my kitty… But that’s it. If they come to Barcelona is perfect and more than enough. I'm happy here. I like my freedom and I’m madly in love with this city.

I have plenty affection for my homeland, but not enough to get on the plane bursting with joy.

My family, the faces of the old friends (which very often seem not to exist), the beach overcrowded, the tedious streets, double bed, fish for lunch and fish for dinner. It has its pros and cons. But weighing things ... I know where I rather be.

4) I look at myself in the mirror every day and I realize that the childish image I had is slowly fading away. The person I see is a capable adult willing to progress.

What I really mean is: I’m sick of being a student and financially dependent.

I finally realized that the life of a dependent little girl no longer satisfies me. I want to work, I want my own money, I want to pay for my apartment. Enough with the facilities, dammit, I am no longer a child. It’s time to start building my own path in life.

Thought by thought I’m starting to define who I am and what I want. This is something new. I was always afraid of the future and I never wanted to even imagine myself as a working responsible adult. The idea of growing tormented me. Now things have changed. I accept the fact that I grew up and I even become fond of the idea of a new life. I still don’t have it all figured out but hey, motivation is the first step, right?

(...)

-nenis