Lost, lost lost

Lost!!!!

I have spent the whole day in front of the computer trying to figure out what are the options I have for my life. You know, I used to think that I would be an actress, but it is not going to work (don't try to convince me of the contrary!), so now I gotta find out something else to do.

I'm so lost!
I decided to post this here with the hope that someone will have some suggestions for me... I'll start by saying what I like.

Ok, so I like images, colors and texts. But I like doing my own texts. I just love textures and colors.
I love creating, but I think I would do better making characters in the computer rather than creating them (I think I don't have talent for that). I love animation and documentaries, but I also love normal movies. Ok, it doesn't help much, does it?

Yes, I like office work. No, I don't like working on the weekends (but if I have a cool job that requires so, I'm fine with that).

I think editing is awesome, both in animation and in movies. A lot of work, but still awesome. You give the movie the tone and it makes a hell lot of difference.

I like artistic photography. I love National Geographic's photos. But I don't think I want to be a pro photographer. I don't know. Let's leave this one in open.

I would love to do Journalism, because of the idealism of it. But I already went to Journalism school for time enough to realize that the idealism that takes you there doesn't exist in your everyday basis, because you normally will have to report to the editor and write whatever the director or newspaper's owner wants you to. And also it is extremely stressing and you don't get well paid. And you work weekends and holidays. Definitely a no.

I love writing. But I don't want to make my living on writing books. I definitely want to write a book (or many), but as a hobby, not as a career. And it's lonely. I want to have co-workers. My life in the US showed me that I'm not the type to work at home. I like cool environments. I think my husband has an awesome job (actually, he has the most awesome job ever. I've never met anyone with a job more awesome than his!). Ok, this doesn't have much to do with the beginning of the paragraph, but... who cares? This is my diary anyway! (online, but still a diary).

So.... I was wondering around Filmmaking and Animation.... then you will ask me: what in it do I want to do? Heck. I don't know. I'm leaning towards Screenwriting and Editing, in Film and, in Animation, I think I would like to make the characters in the computer, to work on the story (writing and stuff), to make the models in clay or something similar and put their images into the computer, animate them, do the coloring and texturing.... I think this would be an awesome job!!!

Now, how do I know which one I want to work on????????????????????????????????

Things that I DO NOT WANT TO DO ANYMORE:

1- Babysitting (at any age - keep them far away from me!!!!!!!)
2- Selling stuff (whatever it is)
3-Teaching English
4- Working on saturday morning
5- Working early morning (say, at 6 or 7 AM EVERY FUCKING DAY!)
6- Cleaning

The day I turned into a leaf

... and then, one day, I was turned into a leaf. I just woke up and my body wasn't what it had always been: I didn't have any arms or legs and my long hair was gone. I was yellowish-brown and light. So light that the wind took me into his hands and we flew...

We flew over the lands. Sometimes it was slow. Sometimes it was fast. When he was excited, we would do loops and turns and everything would be upside down and it was so beautiful and fun! When he was tired, he would put down on the ground, with his gentle hands, so he wouldn't break me. And then up again.

And I could see the people and the Earth. I could see the people crying and laughing, mourning and celebrating. I saw Life starting and I saw Death coming. I saw babies turning into children, turning into teens and then adults and then old and then dying. I saw how fragile Life is. Animals, bug, nature and people. All with something in common: everybody wants to be loved. The wind taught me about life and about being alive.

My body would fly and I had no stopping place. Every place was my place. I didn't belong to a tree or to anywhere. I belonged everywhere. My spirit was free and I was being dissolved into the world. Little by little. And I learned about the Cycle of Life. The wind, gently put my last piece down on the same place to took me up, long ago. And I learned the ultimate lesson: that the beauty of being here is the fact that we one day won't be here anymore and, for that, all we have is the love and the moments we share with other living beings. The time we spent with them while we were all here. And then one day, the wind will take our last piece into the air. And we will be gone. But the love we spread will remain. Love is all that really matters.

Pieces of people

People are like pieces
Pieces of clay
pieces of paper
pieces of hope
Just pieces

People need other pieces
to stay together
sometimes the pieces don't fit
sometimes they do
sometimes just for a while

Pieces of heart go
and come
Pieces of dreams
end and re-start

Pieces of attention
fall like seeds
in our thirsty hearts
Growing
Bringing joy

Pieces of you and me
and everybody else
We can't be just one
'Cause we are people
and we are made to be pieced together.

The Little Girl in the Jar

The little girl
started out like any other girl
just a little different

she was started
with a piece of fabric and
old buttons
one blue, one brown
some yarn
did the hair
and cotton balls
filled her fragile body.

with her new eyes
and her chest without a heart
she looked
and felt
the world.

but nobody saw her
she tried to talk to them,
but... they didn't listen!
she tried to give them love
out from the bottom of
her cotton balls
but they didn't care.

she tried to draw their attention
and ripped a piece
of her leg in a nail on the wall
but nobody noticed.
she tried again
and, to make they worry
she threw herself
from the stairs
into the dog's mouth.

but they didn't care.
instead, they put her in a jar
an old glass jar
with a rusty lid,
where she wouldn't bother anymore.

and, with her button-eyes
she cried
one tear at a time
while watching Life
from the inside
of her jar.

And it wasn't beautiful.
It was black
It was white
And there was no flavor
(even though she didn't have a tongue).

Then one day
someone forgot
brushes and paint
and she popped the lid out
and painted the jar.

now she still sees the world
with button-colored eyes
but her world is now
in a light blue sky
with cotton clouds
in a jar.

The little seastar

From the sky
she fell
it hurt
and she didn't know where she was

she was sad
the land was strange
and the inhabitants scared her
and there was no where to run to

nobody talked to her
and she didn't know what to say
she just fell
from the sky

and now she misses
home
and love and care
she didn't understand
why was so hard it here

and then
she looked beyond her surroundings
and in the deep blue
she felt peace.

and there she went
to never came back
again.

The fisherman


There was once
this simple and hearty man
he didn't care much about things
but he cared about the people
and the fish
He lived in this small village
with simple people
and everybody knew him.
Everyday we would go into the ocean
and would return by the end of the day
In his small boat
A single basket
full of fish.
And this way he fed the village
and himself.
His hands were not soft skin
Nor moonlight pale
they were harshness
they were sun
they were salt and water

the fisherman didn't smile much
nor talk a lot
people used to speak of him
when he was gone
and by the end of the day
they would speak to him
and he would listen,
to every single one,
with care and tenderness

Every night
he would open one fish
carefully
tenderly
for it gave its life so he could have his
touching it softly
with his crude hands
And then,
when nobody else was on the beach
and there was just silence and night
stars and waves
he would go walk
his feet, touching the sand
still warm by the sun.
And he felt happy.

Day by day
His fish
and his people
And his heart was growing distant
And his days in the ocean started to become longer
and longer
and longer.
The sand his feet touched
was now cold

People started to wonder
And complain
For the fish was arriving too late
And a new man started to fish for the people.
Nobody ate his fish
anymore
Nor sit down by him
to ask for advice
But he still wandered
on the beach
under the dark sky
covered by stars.

One day
the fisherman left his home
he didn't take his net
he didn't take his basket
he just took his boat
and, along with the waves
he was gone.