A Falésia

Atiro fora os lençóis sujos de nós. 

Atiro-os para o saco da roupa para lavar como atirámos para longe tudo o que fomos. Atiro o teu cheiro para o esquecimento, pois é onde tem de pertencer. Atiramos tudo fora para atirar ainda mais longe a dor. 

Atiro-me a mim, àquilo que fiz por ti, aquilo que mudei contigo, às memórias ferverosas, às noites longas, a tudo atiro como às lágrimas e aos gritos, pequenas pedras pela falésia. 

E Atiro-te a ti, à tua bondade, à tua insistência, aos teus sonhos inúteis e desperdiçados, grandes pedras a mergulhar nas ondas. 

Para ali atiro este depósito intensionalmente irrecuperável, para que lá em baixo se enterre na areia a nossa mágoa e para que penetre no subsolo fundamente à medida que abandona as nossas mentes, a tua mente... 

Atiro fora o teu amor, que nunca soube usar, na esperança que alguém o encontre por entre a maré baixa. 

Atiramos tudo. Atiramo-nos um ao outro. Atiramos a vida.

"What's on your mind?"

“What’s on your mind?”

That is the question that instantly appears in from of me, every time I open my facebook page. Facebook, the trash of society’s vices, and my vice, as a good piece of human trash that I am.

A simples question, meant for the lucky ones that are new to this kind of brain cell destroying social network understand that’s the place they’re suppose to write their state. A simple question in a stupid place.

Enough to make me think… what’s on my mind? What’s on everybody’s mind? Can someone really know what’s going through someone’s mind? And ultimately, can someone really know what’s going through their own mind?

"Father forgive me my sins, givee me the nails, I'll hammer them in"

I've been hammering the nails in myself my whole life!

My soul looks like a fucking colander!

"Never underrate the man with nothing left inside"

She tried to move...
She tried to speak...
She tried to cry...
She tried to feel...
She tried to think...

Nothing.
Plain nothing.

She always had a way of protecting herself from the bad things that happen to her, forcing her brain not to think of it, so that that sad thoughts wouldn't disturb her good judgement. Eventually she didn't had to force herself not to think when something bad was happening, her brain would just turn off when the pain starter to appear.

But, as always, there was an inconvenient in this sort of mental power and a price to pay for having it.

When she was smothering a pain utterly strong, her brain wasn't able to just put it behind and think in something else, simpler and happier. When the pain was so strong that she could sense it running through her veins her brain had to completely shut off from everything so that she wouldn't feel it anything at all. She just needed to lay somewhere for a while, alone, her mind and her body as powerless and quiet as a vegetable and afterwards she was able to forget and ignore the sadness, or anger, or frustration inside her.

Needless to say that stronger the pain, the more intense, long and frequent her episodes of numbness and apathy had to be.

Sometimes she feared she would lose her ability to feel anything at all because of this, but she didn't seem to care, it was worth it.

And that's how we got to the begining of this story, where she is lying down for God knows how many time...

Not being able to move,
Not being able to speak,
Not being able to cry,
Not being able to feel,
Not being able to think...

Nothing...
Plain nothing...

The angel

When I think about the beginning of my life, I often remember one day, when I was a little girl, merely a child, who had just begun to understand some of the basic things about life. I remember that for a long time that was one of the most confusing days of my life because of the wisdom that was passed on to me.

I remember being alone in my room, as I usually did, probably pretending to be a character in some amazing story, like the ones I used to create so that I could play alone.

Suddently I wasn't alone anymore, I knew it, even if I hadn't seen anyone there yet. After a while an angel like figure appeared in my sight. strangely I can't quite remember how it looked like but I can remember all the words that it said to me.

The creature knelt over one knee and told me to listen carefully to what he came to tell me, because everyone has its special rules to obey in life, and it was his job to visit every person in the Earth and teach each one their rules.

Amazed as I was, I wasn't able to reply, but I drank his works fully and I believe I wouldn't be able not to, even if I wanted to.

It taught me many rules wich I had to follow strictly. I didn't understand most of them at the time, and some I don't even understand now, but there is one that I understood soon after this incident, and that I remember constantly.

"Thou shall not use or understand fully the meaning of the world SIMPLE while living."

When all my rules had been laid down to me the creature disappeared as quickly and quietly as it had appeared.

I obeyed some of the rules all my life, but some, like this one, I tried not to, because I didn't understand the reason why it existed.

I still try to fight this rule daily, longing to understand what it means to do something in a simple way, longing for something to be simple in my life, but that never happens and I'm starting to believe that it will never will.

Golden Locks

A girl wakes up in the middle of the morning.

She tries to open her eyes, fighting the bright light that comes in through the big window in her room, only to find out she's still dizzy with the alcohol from the night before...

She continues to blink repeatedly, but, eventually, she gives up, closes her eyes and turns around in her bed.

Suddently, she's overwhelmed. Even though her vision is terribly affected she is dazed by one of the most appealing smells she has ever felt. She can't quite explain what's taking over her, but she just keeps inhaling frenetically, like that smell is the best thing in the world! Better than the sea, better than the purple flowers that grow by the sea, better than red roses, better than turkey in the oven, better than whiskey, better than that sweet old perfume that used to make her head spin... Bah! She stops, she's losing it, as always... She shakes her head, tries to ignore the stupid memories of the old perfume and concentrates in that smell again. The warm, cosy, exciting feeling that it brought to her comes back. It's unexplainable, it's just to fucking overwhelming for her to control herself.

Without ever opening her eyes, she reaches for the smell, triyng to get close to it and to find out what it is that just makes her stomach convulse like it used to. She gets closer and closer and she finally feels something. Something incredibly soft. It looks like fur of some kind... or hair... Is it hair? Yes, it's hair, she's sure. But whose hair?

She wants to open her eyes, to find the answers to all those confusing questions that are hammering in her hangover head, but she knows what will happen... she knows what always happens... Every time se opens up her eyes everything that seems remotetly good fades away.

She can't take it any longer, she hates to live in doubt! She prefers to lose everything in order to know everything.

Her eyes slowly open and she smiles while looking upon golden locks of hair, shining in different tones of gold as the sun lights them. There they are, golden hairs all over, forming a beautiful patter like a spider's web. Still amazed by everything, she slowly takes her hand to it, craving to feel it's touch...

That's it... Reality alarm sounds, echoing in her head, everything's gone. She's alone and she's caressing her blood red sheets...