This is that kind of dream that is dreamnt with eyes wide open and feet above the clouds, it's not more than a breath, but if you want you can come and breath with me: there is still enough air for all of us in the world! Let's have a last dance before everything ends...
quinta-feira, 15 de outubro de 2009
A SUBURBAN JOURNEY
One night I was going through a dark and desert street. There was always a crowd around me but I was too blind to see or listen to them. I work in a kind of frequency, in which I just hear the angels. But hear is not the same as understand, they don’t talk the same language as me, nobody does.
In fact I wasn’t going anywhere because I had nowhere to go, but that was exactly my point: the lack of objectives was in itself a reason to keep going. That road had about eighty meters, not so long as I would like it to be, but it was enough to get me more scared than the most terrible devil. I went hesitant for the first fifteen meters, my feet were light and I felt like if I was walking on clouds, those short steps took my innocence away and made me a visionary. And like all the visionaries I became numb.
On the twentieth meter I could see the light! It’s so interesting to see that sometimes you must close your eyes to clearly see the truth. And I did it. With blinded eyes I used to see a beautiful world, hope, peace, and even a little stretch of God in people’s voice. I used to see myself in the future. At that moment the air went in my lungs and I saw the ones who were like me. I knew they would be dead in a few moments but happiness can’t be forever as well as seasons are not. My summer time ended at the meter 30.
A cold and terrifying winter made me figure out how illusions were sweet and dreams were nice when you don’t really have a place to belong to. Then I realized I was alone. My head started spinning and my feet weren’t so close to sky anymore. When your fragile wings broke the ground is the only destiny. And I kept walking through the dirty street for thirty meters more.
I couldn’t get in the water, I just could stare everybody from the shore. That was my whole path, my hard way through my own heart. Steps get heavier every meter, but what matters when there’s not even a safe place to stay? In the end of the street I saw no reasons to keep going on. I couldn’t even remember why or where I was going… Somewhere in the middle of the way I lost my direction like everybody always does. Ten meters ahead and I’ll be free. My legs couldn’t keep walking on fire, but it was a one-way street. There was no possibility of going back.
So, time stopped and all the darkness and the noisy silence of my built buildings couldn’t hurt me anymore. The stones watched me while I was desperately making my last effort to get to the final point. Then, motivated by a mysterious power that just God knows what really is, I looked at past. Curiosity is all the disgrace in human beings and as the most inconsequent crazy voyeur I saw the emptiness of the rainy city. No cars, no people, no stores or pubs, just the water falling rhythmically from sky. God was crying for his unlucky son. Now, everything needs to come back to the beginning, meter 81 waits me cause after one street, there’s always another one and I’ll always live in a labyrinth of well told lies.
As deeper you go as deeper you find you lost.
Marcadores:
A tale - in fact,
just a short story,
not a real tale.
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