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What do I write? And why do I write?

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What do I write? And why do I write?

I see so many writers, dreamers,
Now bloggers (internet),
Or simply, artists who reinvent themselves.
I remember the Portuguese language classes,
From the texts in the textbooks,
As de Castro Alves: Black Ships,
Imagination flowed.
The pain, the displeasure of those people left for that time,
The lack of love.
I remember reading and adventure,
The devil's beetle,
The way to eat apple,
The freckles, the crumbs.
The Enchanted Mountain,
In addition to Sidney Sheldon's books:
The midnight sun.
Today, no longer assiduous to reading,
But, digital information,
So many that scrambled the neurons.
Dreams, and even the worldview.
I see interactions in atpcs (collective pedagogical activity) of the CMSP (São Paulo media center),
Where exactly codes and languages ​​are concerned, they are closed to dialogue.
And, I am not very useful in typing on the cell phone, since the CMSP does not work on the computer / notebook, and that frustrates me.
I write because I like it.
Because it involves signs in a way that merges, and forms words.
I write to vent. Show my hurts.
I write because I just have a gift,
Since I’m a Chemistry teacher, where Mathematics,
It would be much more present in me.
I don't travel beyond my lyrics, like great writers.
It appears in Revista Caras a few times,
For being here in Brazil, in São Paulo the events.
I'm sorry, for my profession of earning bread,
Being a teacher in this country is too hard,
And, being from the Public School,
The money is barely enough to eat,
Imagine for Writing.
But, my life comes down to all of that,
In an alchemy that persists
What sensitivity,
From a little witch by Frei Albino Aresi (In Memorian - Founder Associação Mens Sana),
Today sensitive to letters,
That lets the pen flow in the slide of the paper.
And, as I go,
Or rather writing.
I don't even feel any pain here.
A beautiful thing happens.
My writing is my prayer.
I also remember a book I started reading in high school, an Indian book, Professor Valdir de Filosofia said:
"_ Girl, the way you are sensitive, will float down the halls of the school." (EE Prof. Alberto Conte - 1985).
I write and I always want to write. Is a pleasure.
My manuscripts are there,
And, if one day, they want to acquire,
Read them, get my children.
I hope that after my passage,
They have saved.
There are so many notebooks, small, university,
They are the dreams of a girl, a woman, a daughter, a wife, a mother.
Anyway, from someone who cares about the family, whether from Mom, sister of six brothers (uncles who married, taught me, are gone ...), and from Dad, who the other day, we received the call from Ale (Alexandre Freire), son of daddy's cousin (Zeza - who's gone ...), is a third-degree cousin, who is my youngest brother, who made each adventure as a child, and of course our children, who today they are there, some cousins ​​of my generation, they are already grandparents, others have not married, and have dedicated themselves to life.
Ah! I have memories and I write for that,
To thank my family, even for dear cousins, who are older sisters, I have bitter words, this is a hurt,
That I can't erase, especially since it was more with them that I spent my childhood, I even called Dona Joaquina mommy, who is an aunt, a dear godmother, although sincerely, I want to remember her before, because now she doesn't remember so much of us because of what happened in your life. I want to remember her when she had the warehouse, on Rua do Socorro, Vila Clara, SP. Ah! Miss ... And other moments.
I write because I see myself as a writer, a dreamer, a reader.
I write why God inspires me,
And the Art of writing makes me a girl.
I thank you for reading me,
It was a pleasure to write to you!

Handwritten on May 5, 2021.
Here I also dedicate the family of my husband who embraced me.
Whether here in Brazil or Spain, the Riveiro Family, Castro, Portas. Thank you all.
I offer all mothers who are writers, wrestlers, maids, teachers, doctors, students ... in short, to all mothers, mine: Deonilde and her sister, Aunt Joaquina.
To my sisters-in-law, and to each of you my regular readers.
Too much light,
To the mother of the author Paulo Gustavo, who plays Dona Hermínia - My Mother is a Play, and to all the mothers who are in the fight for Life against Covid-19.
Author: Tereza Cristina Gonçalves Mendes Castro.
God gratitude always.

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