quinta-feira, 26 de janeiro de 2012

Aos demônios do tempo III: Efêmero

             Nada mais importa quando tudo o que você sabe torna-se cinzas que se esvanecem a cada dia por dentro de algo pulsante dentro de ti. Nada mais importa quando o espaço que tinha dentro de ti, reservado para algo mais do que apenas um nome, uma cor, uma simples vida, uma pequena flor, é tampado com o excesso de nada que se carrega dentro da mente. O tempo passa, a vida passa, mas você continua sempre ali; no nada, no tudo, na sua mente, no seu espaço, na sua bolha.

             Nada mais importa quando tudo o que você tem torna-se desnecessário aos seus olhos e a água restante no copo sempre meio-vazio ao lado da cama parece ser o suficiente por semanas, quando tudo o que você come tem gosto de culpa, tudo o que respira tem cheiro de angústia, e tudo o que pensa tem cheiro de nada, de medo, de aversão. De morte.

             Nada mais importa quando você pensa o quão efêmera uma existência como a sua pode ser, tanto como todas as outras, e você só se importa com isso quando pensa que a vida daqueles com os quais você compartilha sentimentos e palavras e tempo também o é.

domingo, 22 de janeiro de 2012


We're trying not to fall down this atemporal abyss of identity,
so we all fall apart into tiny pieces,
like a broken glass,
like dust.

quinta-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2012


I’m not here. I’m not there. I’m not anywhere
I’m no-one, I’m nothing
I’m not alive
But I’m not dead either.
But I don’t live,
I’m just killing time,
And I must breathe
Until one day
I’ll surely have
My very wanted, loved
and longed

dying breath.

segunda-feira, 2 de janeiro de 2012


                It’s a big, cruel world. You’re not special for being alive. Can you understand this? Any girl/woman can get pregnant and give a birth to a child. And I feel sorry for this (perhaps) undesired child, for taking their very first breath in a filthy, bad world.  I feel sorry for them. 

                I want to leave these thoughts behind. I want to leave these people, feelings, everything behind.  I want to quit. Quit. I feel like I’ve reached the bottom of the deepest hole of sorrow and I can’t find any way out. There’s no sunlight in there. There’s no trace of great life in there. And I guess I don’t want to the see the sunlight anymore. I got used to the darkness, and darkness resides inside me now. I want to quit. The darkness doesn’t.  Even if I leave, for good, the darkness itself will float around and find another broken soul to get inside and take the poor little soul all the way down to the same hole I once fell and couldn’t escape. There will be no sunlight for them either, and l will feel sorry for them. The undesired child now will be gone, just like me, just like millions of others broken souls who’ve reached the same bottom I did. And they now recognize my words, they now know my pain. But those who live with me under the same roof never will. And I’m glad they won’t ever know because this is a feeling, a sinking feeling which leads you to the deepest inside of yourself and makes you think about what life really is and what’s the point of you asking about what’s the point of living. You’re alive, that’s it. Life is not good. You were born to die, and throughout your life, you’ll find yourself asking the same questions I do now. “Why?”

                I want to hold on and stick around for those whom I love, I really do. I want to hold them tight and never let them go, and bring them with me. But I can’t. There are people out there who also love them the way I do, or even more, but it doesn’t matter at all. They exist, they’re there, and they will miss the person, just like I would. There will be pain and sorrow for those who were close to them, and I can’t do this to anyone else. There will be sorrow and suffering for the people who live around me, either. But there are pain, suffering and sorrow inside me, why can’t anyone see it? I can see how they would suffer, but they can’t see how I do feel now. There are too many “I wish” for way too much “I can’t”. I wish I could be a better person, but I can’t. I wish I could hug you tight and never let you go, but I can’t. I wish I could be someone else, but I can’t. I can’t.  I wish I wasn’t this sick, I wish medications could make me feel better for more than just a while, I wish I could do something good for people around me, but I can’t.
                Life is not good for anyone, you know. I wish I could just close my eyes to everything and try living like these closed-minds, brainwashed people do, but I can’t. I don’t want to try to live a life I know I’m not able to handle with. There are too many things inside myself that I need to kill, but I’m not able to do this if I don’t destroy this body outside.  And destroying this body, I’m destroying my mind. Perhaps I’m on the right way. Perhaps it’s just another illusion, creation of my own mind, playing tricks with myself to see who will win this game, after all. And I wonder if I really want to win.

© 2009Dead Souls | by TNB