Despojamento

Quero dormir e fingir que esta noite dura para sempre.
Ser feliz é deixar-te na berma da estrada para morrer e fugir enquanto não morres, para não morrer contigo.
Já não és a minha história.
Deixei-te num lugar onde nunca mais se regressa porque se esquece o caminho.
Desta vez ninguém  vai ressuscitar.



Memórias são coisas que não nos querem esquecer. Memórias são o nosso desejo de esquecer a revoltar-se contra nós, para dentro.

Já não tenho forma de falar contigo. As palavras são fracas, tão fracas quanto a tua fraqueza.

Quero dormir e fingir que esta noite dura para sempre.
 Esta noite deixei-te na berma da estrada para morrer e fui-me embora.
 Viva. Nunca me senti tão viva.

21.

"I’ve buried you
every place I move
you keep ending up
in my shaking hands."

Em cada palavra te deixo, como se nelas
pudesses viver para sempre.
Fechado.

Deixo-te, em cada silêncio que pareça correcto
E
Ninguém sabe o quanto de mim
Deixei
Em cada palavra onde te deixo.

Em cada olhar te perco
E faço por te perder.
Como se fosse mais fácil
Ver-te a ver
Que sou eu que te deixo.

Em cada silêncio que pareça correcto.
E os teus nunca pareceram.

Em cada palavra te deixo, como se nelas
pudesses viver para sempre.
Rasgo o papel, deixo-o arder.

"I have buried you
with my shaking hands
you keep ending up
every place I’ve been"

Hot tea and nowhere to look at

Maybe today it's just not the right day to wear those pants. Maybe it's too hot or it's too cold. - Who knows? Maybe today, you are just not yourself, and those pants don't fit you.
 Don't be scared. Don't think it's urgent that those pants fit you. Just think you have a day off to be whoever you always wanted to be - 'Cause we all do, sometimes. We all want to be someone we are not. Sometimes, even when our pants fits us and it's the right day to wear them.

One minute has 60 seconds. In one minute you move your chest without stopping. You move your eyes and you can be in a thousand different places. In one minute you can move your hands and change the air around you. You can drop something. You can break the jar at your right or hit the furniture at your left and be bruised.
 In one minute your life it's a hundred other lives you will never know it is. - Cause before there is a all, there are so many little pieces. So many little options. So many breaths to take, and walls or windows to be looking at without even seeing it, so many moves your hand can make - Like hold someone. Like letting someone go. Like scratching your arms or hold your body. Like waving to the person you most love in all world. - One minute has 60 seconds. Every second you can be doing it all. Or you can be doing nothing but breathing so deeply you can almost feel your lungs in your throat.

Maybe today you need that. Maybe tomorrow you won't, but today you do. Have some time to die. Some time to feel your lungs touching your throat. Don't be scared, there will be plenty of opportunities to feel like the world is ending. But that doesn't mean it's. Maybe who's ending is you. Maybe you have to buy another pants.
Who knows, maybe more colorful or less. More tight or larger. - Who knows? You can always move your hand in the first second of a minute to say goodbye and not care anymore about the other 79 seconds because it hurts too much. But that won't make them disappear and that won't make them go faster, like you want it to. Or slower.

Don't be scared. We all need tears sometimes. Even if it's not hurting, even if it's hurting like hell and you think this is all bullshit. Probably it is. - Who knows? Does that even matter? Don't be scared. You can cry about all the bullshit you want, even if it really is just bullshit.
At least, it's something.

Maybe today it's just not the right day to wake up, to take a bath and brush your hair smiling. You don't always have to smile. Or to wake up feeling like taking a bath and brushing your hair. You can just sit in your bed and pretend you are asleep, even awake. Get some rest of being alive, 'cause being alive can be very tiring from times to times.
Times. Times after times, it'll be okay if you don't feel like having your breakfast or talking to your best friend.
You need to talk to you first, times after times. You need to listen to you for days. Weeks. Or even months - Who knows? It takes so many time, so many days without moving to know where you are.
So many days you will be scared, feeling like if you move one finger all your body will explode and you will be everywhere. And if you end up thinking about this over and over again you'll desire that explosion - At least you can fly.

One hour has 60 minutes. One minute has 60 seconds.
You may want to die from 15 to 15 minutes. You may want to stay alive for the rest of your life.
You can say you'll always be late while you let the seconds go by without realizing it. Don't you always do it?

Maybe today it's just not the right day to go to the post office and wait for a letter. To wait there, sitting in the nothingness. To wait for news about what it's deep in you. Maybe it's too hot or too cold.
Maybe you need some more days and more weeks to hear from you.
Who knows? - It doesn't take much long until you can fly. Don't be scared. We all desire to fly sometimes.

 Faz algum tempo que eu não ficava com a boca tão seca e os lábios tão gretados. Está frio quando é noite.
 As minhas mãos entram boca adentro, garganta a baixo, vasculham um lugar qualquer onde acham que as palavras estão. Mas elas não estão. Está frio, e eu tremo tanto, porque está frio.
 Mas é dia.
 Não há palavras mas há frio dentro dos ossos.

Faz algum tempo. Faz sempre algum tempo e o tempo parece sempre o mesmo.
Não acho que estejamos a fazer isto correctamente. O que guardamos pesa nas costas.

E está frio. Para lá da noite, está frio dentro dos ossos.