sábado, 24 de março de 2012

Unknown pleasures


I want to jump off a bridge and fly away from this ephemeral and obnoxious life.

quinta-feira, 22 de março de 2012

En rattrapant tous les mots

 Olho para o espelho com os olhos da alma e enxergo um coração que pulsa desgovernado, gritando por uma existência limpa, e não machucada; por todas as vezes em que não curei minhas feridas, por medo, erro ou esquecimento; gritando para que não seja mais infligida nenhuma dor no interior de meu peito que não haja cura, que não haja um modo de parar a aflição e o sangramento, mas ainda assim, o coração pulsa, clamando por uma ordem dentro de uma mente onde não há o que se ordenar.
Como se ordena uma vasta escuridão, um beco sem saída, uma penumbra infinita? Como se ordena uma confusão de pensamentos entrelaçados e sem nexo algum, para que haja um segmento de pensamentos sem conflitos dentro de mim mesmo; para que haja algo dentro de mim que possa ser dito com toda a certeza de que há, de fato, uma conclusão, uma decisão a ser tomada, um pensamento a ser explicado e um coração a pulsar, não em vão, e sim por desejo. Desejo de estar ali e, mesmo que sem um caminho a seguir, retomar a caminhada e não mais parar.
Todas as vezes em que não curei minhas feridas, seja por medo, erro, ou esquecimento, ficaram marcas que hoje não se cicatrizam e notavelmente ainda sangram por dentro. E o sangramento escorre como lágrimas pelos olhos de quem hoje tenta enxergar com os olhos não ofuscados da alma, e enxerga além, além de si, além de tudo.

terça-feira, 20 de março de 2012

Unaware


I've changed in so many ways in the past few weeks. I don't know whether it's a good or bad change, but I've changed indeed. Maybe now I'm exactly where I wanted to be so long ago but never really realized it; craving for something and have it craved back. Maybe now I'm where I thought I'd never be, where heaven and paradise collide, and turn into one thing itself: reality. Maybe I am that person in that picture frame ages ago, craving for something more right now. But maybe it's all simply a dream that I'm living and I don't know how long it will last this time.
 I certainly hope it has no end. But what if what they say, everything has an end, is for real? I suppose I didn't want have heard of this phrase ever in my life, though I've always wanted my life to have one.

quarta-feira, 7 de março de 2012

A tale about the Trees and the Sky


                I hold my breath and pretend I’m dead most of the times.  I try to do it almost every day, maybe one day I’ll get closer to this event and I won’t have to pretend any longer.
 But then I recall all those moments and I don’t pretend I’m dead any longer, I just pretend I can go back to the past for a few minutes; and on these few minutes, I feel okay. Everything’s suddenly okay and then I stop pretending because it feels like a dream, and dreams are places where we don’t need to pretend anything. Things happen and they’re there, all in your head. I only pretend I am still sleeping for a few minutes later just because I refuse to get up and stop dreaming with the past. Those memories won’t go away, but they come breaking in my mind like dreams, like something unreal, and this makes me feel sick, because they’re real indeed. I was there. I was there holding your hands and forgetting the whole world around us. I was there looking at your little shiny black eyes staring at me looking for answers I cannot give you. I was there holding my breath and trying to make the time pass slower.  I was there looking at the sky and wondering if I was dreaming, because being by your side is like a dream, it’s like I’m not myself and you’re there just to make me smile for a few minutes; but you’re there and I’m there as well, and you make me smile longer than just a few minutes, from the inside out. And then I want to cry because it’s time for us to go, and I want to hold you forever and never let you go away from me.  Then I look at the sky over again, and wonder why. Why? Why does this have to happen with me? With us? Why am I still here, breathing in and taking up too much space in a hole of despair and fear, where I can’t get you out of my mind when you seem unreal for me, when everything feels illusory around me and I can’t even touch myself?
And then I remember it was already the second time. There will be another one. There must be another one. There must be.

segunda-feira, 5 de março de 2012

Preclusion


Aimless life; worthless body; harmful mind. I can’t.
 
I'm drowning into a sea of madness; there’s no way out, I can’t refuse to sink any longer, though I’ve thought I couldn’t go any further than I already am.

 

© 2009Dead Souls | by TNB