"(...) todos me dicen el negro, llorona, negro pero carinoso, yo soy como el chile verde, picante pero sabroso (...)"

Here I am again. Maybe there isn't anything worthy to be written about, but I need to try, right?
I have had the time to step away from those who I held has the most endearing. I have had the time to step away from nearly everyone. And it has been good. It has been really good.
Things seem to walk into the right rythm. Things seem to be getting right. And it requires the continuity of my secret, the continuity of my silence and state-of-nearly-chronic-absence. Things require more time to myself. More time to the true healing of my soul. More time to see the passerbies. More time to see the shadows.
In the end, I'm going to be a ghost.
The ghost walks the streets of the city.
He sees their smiles and their serius faces.
He sees the masks.
He sees the cigarettes (and inhales the smell of joints in the air).

I like to step the streets of the city. I missed that place a lot.

I missed what those changex have been bringing to my life.
Freedom.
Independence, again - total, not a partial taste of it.
I missed the beauty of being a mad grown up. I missed what more can be brought by the happier times. And it'll come. Or maybe not.This time, I won't weep regreting what I could've done.

Look at the passing shadow. Fell the cold breath on your neck, the cold lips getting warm in your lips. Feel the glory. Feel.

Just feel.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Loucura - há algumas horas atrás

Às vezes, poderia ter cinquenta blogs, com identidade desconhecida, com identidade patente. Poderia passar por cinquenta espaços diferentes e, ainda assim, não conseguir escrever sobre o que quero. Ainda assim, ser incapaz de escrever as palavras que me assombram, de dizer a verdade que tem de ser dita. Há umas horas atrás, iniciou-se uma certa mudança em mim. Nessas mesmas horas, apoderei-me de outro nome, outra vertente de uma outra existência. Se as coisas, por vezes, não fazem sentido, que se foda! Interessa que faça sentido para mim, que eu saiba o que digo, ao que me refiro. Interessa que, o que sinto, transpareça, sem muito compromisso. Há umas horas atrás, a noite fria presenciou algo, por esquinas, por becos escuros e húmidos, a cheirar a urina, que não imaginei alguma vez que fosse. Há horas atrás, morreram algumas certezas. Há algumas horas atrás...
Read more

The Blessing and the Curse of Technology

Technology is a blessing. And a curse. I am typing this message inside a very full bus. Few seats and not that much space for people doing this long hour trip on their feet. I am deactivating the cell phone's browser and Google Chrome, as I am sticking with Brave and have been for a while. And this process has been kinda painful: Google Chrome is the most used web browser and as most cell phones are part of Android universe, it's more than natural. However, it hands me a little too many ads and trying to read anything is almost certain that I'll end up hitting a surprise pop up ad. My cell phone is a Redmi, which gives me Mi Browser as a default. And although Mi browser blocks some commercials, it still allows pop ups; trying to see something on YouTube still gives me ads, despite the ad block. And although I'd like to use the easiness of Chrome or being faithful to Mi Browser, Brave wins. Wins because you block ads, because it blocks cookies without having websites ask...
Read more

The Idan Raichel Project com Ana Moura: "Sabe Deus"

Image
Directamente de Israel, chega-nos esta música, com a participação da sempre linda Ana Moura. Não poderia deixar de sentir o orgulho e a honra de tudo isto, de toda esta música, que me tocou a alma desde o momento da descoberta. Viaja a minha alma por terras de Além. E pela terras de Além (aonde, minha gente, mora a minha alma?), a minha alma sofre por estes cantos, a minha alma sofre por estes sentimentos. E sem bem saber como, a minha alma procura um jeito de desvincular-se de tanta coisa... Hoje, talvez seja a noite. Ou a manhã. E daí, talvez não... Tenho ponderado no encerramento dos meus blogs. Coisas temporárias, porque quero corrigir erros ortográficos, erros gramaticais... e escrever, entretanto, sem que isso implique que seja por aqui. Hoje, talvez seja a noite. Ou a manhã. Ou talvez não.
Read more