sexta-feira, 16 de maio de 2014

The boy who tied the knots.

 

Pra esquecer você, eu daria a minha esperança, a minha bondade, a minha inocência. Eu daria o que me resta de puro e casto pra não ter que chorar só de te ver chorando de alegria em um passado distante em todos os sentidos. Olfato, visão, paladar, audição e tato, com tato é melhor, mas você sempre foi pra mim algo étereo e intocável. Queria não comparar você com todos os outros homens que eu conheço, mas como se eu nem te conheço agora? Só posso comparar com o que você foi e você só não foi mais per-feito pra mim porque nunca se permitiu ser meu. Já contava com o fato de que você sempre vai e vem na minha vida feito um carma "maledeto". Aí você parou de voltar. E agora, quando eu me deparo sozinha, lá no fundo ressoa uma verdade pungente e insólita: eu te amaria se você não fosse como um nó na minha alma que Deus só me faz desatar em prantos.
 

A Fond Farewell For a Friend.


All the plans I had
All the stuff I kept
To myself were about you
Forgetting is so hard to do
When there's absolutely nothing new
Better than you
Who gave you the right to move into my heart
Who told you I'd be the one with the scars

I guess now there's no more time to say
That even when you were dragging me down, I've stayed
I looked at you while you looked away
You're such a self centered old bastard
And I wish I was just like you
So you could love me just a few too
Who in the world could wish me such an curse and why
All I have is what stayed behind

I'll never know what your habits are
If you look in the mirror when you enter your car.
If it burns inside when you touch her hand
If someday I'll tell you and you'll understand
But I came here just to say
I'm so glad you walked in my way
And fucked up my entire life
Because all I am is what stayed behind.

This empty shell is never going to be a problem anymore
This empty shell is now closing the door
For real, not like before,
Have a nice life, stranger.
There's not even room enough for the anger.
Take care, I trully wish you well.
Adieu and go to hell.

sexta-feira, 9 de maio de 2014

C.P.

Dileto V., 

Considerando o que vivemos, faz-se necessário um esclarecimento: eu estou e estarei sempre irrevogavelmente atônita diante da complexidade de sentimentos que só você me proporciona. Estar no mesmo ambiente que você é angustiante, desesperador e ao mesmo tempo nunca existirá sensação melhor do que a de saber que você está ali, com seus óculos de leitura e seus lábios que, pelos deuses, não poderiam parecer mais irresistíveis do que hoje. E é ridículo que eu tenha carregado isso comigo pelos últimos três anos,  evitando seus olhares e te olhar. Nos corredores,  nas festas,  com eles, com ela. É ridículo querer alguém que se teve só por um dia, por metade de uma noite, que mal se conhece. Mas eu quis por mais ridículo que isso soe. Você desperta em mim emoções que eu desconhecia. E a partir de agora essas palavras não são  mais minhas, são suas.  É seu problema, agora. Faça o que quiser com essas letras borradas.  Se quiser seguir com a sua vida, siga e eu farei o mesmo com a minha. Mas se você estiver disposto a me conhecer, tudo o que você precisa é dizer oi.

Discretamente, 
Elizabeth. 

quinta-feira, 8 de maio de 2014

The witches' brew, ma boy

“You know, ma boy... there was a time when I... suffered... of the witches' brew.”
“What are you talking about, grandma?”, I asked her while I was setting the couch comfortable for her to have a seat. She used to call me “boy”, I don't know why. I had always worn pants and had my hair short cut though.
“What d'you mean what I'm talking 'bout, boy?! I'm talking 'bout me godamnit”. My grandma, such a nice lady. I loved her anyway. She was the only one who was left for me.
“Go on, then, grandma. I'm sure I haven't heard that story yet.”
“Will you shut up and listen to me? godamnit” In her cranky way, she stood up from the old chair and sat on the couch by herself. She didn't want my help, even though she needed it. “The witches' brew is poisonous, u know that, don't u, boy?”
“I'm not that sure... it may be, huh? It depends on the-”
“U know nothing I'm talking 'bout. But u will someday. God helps you won't.” She started to gaze at nowhere.
“So, what's this brew you were talking about, grandma?” It was usual that I had to keep her going back to the point, otherwise she would just ramble.
“Ay... boy... life is tough, but it's tougher when u agree it is. I have been drinking the witches' brew for a long time, but only now I repent it.”

At that time, I thought she was talking about some sort of a peculiar alcoholic drink she took and learned how to concoct it when she was an adolescent. I suspected she was trying to tell me she was an alcoholic, and just then she decided to admit, and tell me. I thought she was talking about a concrete thing. However, it turned out to be something sadder, something that made me realize her vice was much more deeper. And I was likely to suffer the same way, if it wasn't for her advices back then.