Cherry trees

Cherry trees

Cherry trees

I no longer write to others. Before, I needed to know that anyone reading my texts could understand what was written there. The exact narrated feelings, the complexity that I never wanted to exaggerate. I do not care anymore. Today I write for myself, and for myself only. So that in the future I read and understand what was going on in the head of the younger, more immature, more inexperienced girl, but perhaps more poet. I feel an anxiety to discover my own fears and I have the hope that my past, now present, will help my future to unfold them.

- Silmara Ferreira. Cherry trees.

I hate small talk. I wanna talk about atoms, death, aliens, sex, magic, intellect, the meaning of life, faraway galaxies, music that makes you feel different, memories, the lies you've told, your flaws, what keeps you up at night, your insecurities and fears. I like people with depth, who speak with emotion from a twisted mind. This is not me, I do not know who I became.

When I'm younger, I do not want to know what's up.

saw a world in another way. Much fairer. The heart was better, purer, and honest. Sincerity was a letter that I prided in raising and exposing on the table. I never opened my mouth to overflow poisons that did not belong to me. Childhood was sweet.

I always thought that I was more mature for my age than the people around me. I read more and read well. I studied with more engagement, I smiled more truthfully. Everyone stopped to listen when I spoke. I remember an episode during a Portuguese class in elementary school - whose teacher I loved - that my friends were in a circle talking. I then started to say something that I do not remember, but it is fresh in the memory the moment everyone stopped to look at me.

The influence I had as a child never rose in my mind, but now, older, I think of those moments and see how different I was.

Nowadays I believe that you are not only you . You are what the medium transforms you. No one develops alone, isolated. We are all a mixture of experiences that life makes us go through day after day. We do not always change for the better, but surely we learn a lot if we stop to analyze. Self-evaluation is very important, it strengthens the soul and character.

It was in high school that I realized that the track started to retrace. I was more stressed, perhaps because of the teen hormones, and I changed my whole cycle of friendship because of school changes. New people, new luggage.

Maybe that was it. The need to adapt to the group makes you take some actions that hitherto were not common to you. I began to realize that little by little I was speaking ill of someone. That little by little he pretended to like, he pretended to love, he pretended to care. The environment demanded this, human coexistence yearned for it. Three years later, the flag of sincerity and transparency was no longer held by me, and I was fully aware of it.

I started working. Average company, growing every year. There was every kind of personality there. You can imagine. You can not trust anyone, the whispers run everywhere. Always watching, always questioning.

I got lost.

Where's that innocent girl five years ago? Is this living? Is this maturing? Is maturing to realize that people are not naive or harmless? It is to choose a side, to take care of looks, to bite the tongue, to swallow the saliva, to look aside, to sneak out.

And maybe I'm cowardly enough to think that I'm already altered in an irreversible way. Is it?

- Silmara Ferreira.

It is very difficult to make difficult decisions, most of the time many aspects go against the beliefs that I have. They go against the things I crave. I thought my perspective on life would be totally different. That the path I would choose to tread was the opposite - even why, now, who better to know me than I? I know what I do not want and I know what I believe. But life ... the context ... the current of the river leads people to totally different environments that make us rethink if everything we believed was really true. And we must give up much, many certainties, many luxuries that we can no longer afford. How many B's, C's, D's plans do we have without even knowing it. "Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream

- Silmara Ferreira (Cherry Trees)

In spite of this, I always poete my days!

- Silmara Ferreira

Yes, I am afraid of earthly oblivion. But, I mean, I do not want to sound like my father or my mother talking, but I believe that human beings have souls, and I believe in soul maintenance. The fear of forgetfulness is something else, the fear of not being able to give my life for nothing. If you do not live a life in the service of a greater good, you must at least die a death in the service of a greater good, you know. And I'm afraid of not having a life or a death that means anything.

I realized a while ago that there are different forms of farewells. I could list them, but I want to write something thick enough not to make any fuss. I want to show that there is a farewell that is so painful to match that of fighting with someone and never seeing one again: the one that we realize that someone we loved as brothers is no longer the healthiest company in our lives. On the internet, I read that "we should spend time with people who do our mental health well", and just as life's periphicals make us find connections to a certain fact everywhere, I stopped, re-read and thought. It is very painful to realize that one who loves is no longer to be loved, whether romantically or affectionately speaking. Not because they have gone to the "evil" side - whatever the harm - but they are just no longer the kind of person who does my personality well. Maybe too pessimistic, maybe they talk too much, maybe and maybe, but the fire that existed yesterday died out as suddenly as an ice-cold bath: it roused and frightened. And we see each other, and we talk, and we embrace, but deep down, deep down I ask who I'll take with me when life goes on.

- Silmara Ferreira

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