Este é um espaco, que finalmente criei coragem de comecar a construir para poder expressar e dividir meu conhecimento, minhas buscas, meus achados na jornada pelo crescimento emocional e espiritual. Faco minhas as palavras de um blog do qual sou fã: "Não sou tão careta quanto pareço. Nem tão culta.
Não acredite em nada do que eu escrever.
Acredite em você mesmo e no seu coração."
Don't call me foreigner, because I was born far from here, or because the name of the home I come from has a different name.
Don't call me foreigner, because I was born of a different womb or because my childhood was cradled by stories in another language
Don't call me foreigner, through the love of a mother we shared the same light of lullabys and kisses, with which we dreamed whilst rested in our mothers chest.
Don't call me foreigner, don't think about where I come from, better to know where we go, where time takes us.
Don't call me foreigner, because your bread and fire calm my hunger and cold, and your roof shelters me as it shelters you.
Don't call me foreigner, your wheat is like my wheat, your hand is like mine, your fire like my fire, hunger never warns, and lives in us all.
Don't call me foreigner, because of the path brought me, because I was born in another village, because I know other seas and once I lifted anchor in another port.
Always the same are the waves of goodbye, are the tearful eyes of those we leave far behind
The friends that speak of us use the same prayers, as is the love that dreams of the day of our return
Don't call me foreigner we carry the same soul the same old tiredness that has been dragging man from the beginning of time, when borders didn't exist, before they came, those who divide and kill, those who steal, those who lie those who sell our dreams, those are the ones that invented this word, foreigner
Don't call me foreigner, it is a sad word, it is a cold word, it reminds of oblivion and exile.
Don't call me foreigner, look at your child and mine, how they run holding hands to the end of the path
Don't call them foreigners they don't understand languages or boundaries or flags look as they go to heaven on the smile of a dove, that reunites them in flight.
Don't call me foreigner think of your brother and mine, a body full of bullets kissing the ground with its death, They, were not foreigners they always knew each other through eternal freedom, and equally free they died.
Don't call me foreigner look deep into my eyes beyond the hate, the selfishness and fear, you will see I am a man, and you will see that I am you, I cannot be a foreigner.