O homem velho deixa vida e morte para trás

Quando eu era mais novo, tinha problemas de visão. Costumava achar, inclusive, que o mundo cabia nas minhas mãos. Achava eu, certíssimo de mim, que contra o meu poder imaginário ninguém jamais poderia; me achava certo mesmo quando errado, coitado, e via em mim uma virtude que nunca jazia. Não dava o braço a torcer e pensava – desilusão – que, de mim, nada poderia ficar atrás.

Agora vejo, depois de tantos anos passados, o que na minha presunção larguei sem menos nem mais. Desperdicei a sabedoria que em mim foi jogada tantas vezes, ai, achando que o tempo não se findaria jamais. Aquela moça, que atrás de mim veio tantas vezes e tantos anos atrás, agora se faz clara de um jeito que me finda o cais. Arrependimento, amargo, de saber que do amor que um dia me foi depositado eu, sozinho, não posso beber mais.

Quatrocentas vidas inteiras

No meu coração cabem mais de quatrocentas paixões. Amo-os todos, sem pudor ou piedade; guardo-os profundamente dentro de mim. Eles me consomem as veias, os brônquios, as glândulas sudoríparas. Eles me roubam a fome e o sono, estreitam meu coração e enlaçam meu intestino. Tiram-me de mim e, cruelmente, transportam-me a seus lugares de existência; lugares em que me perco com medo e piedade, mas nos quais, felizmente, encontro amor: puro. Simples. Em si.

21th Century's Love

He said he'd marry me. As a female creature, born with a natural desire of love, family and procreation, that was something I couldn't deny. But, unfortunately, there was an "if". And this "if", I must say, was a bit ahead of my comprehension of love.

He was a free soul. Better: he made himself a free man, so he thought he was, by consequence, a free soul. Love, in his conception, should be free: possessivity and jealousy were not in his dictionary. "They're bad feelings", he said to me one time. And two times. Or more than three times, I think. "I do not want to private you or me from knowing other people" - and as he said that, my heart felt tight in a way that my mind had to send me more and more oxigen. In this way, it made possible my reflection on what he was trying to say.

I spent some days, weeks and months thinking about his uncommon perspective. And I knew he was right: he was a futurist. "Come on, we're on the second decade of the 21th century", he told me. And yes, he was right. He knew he was right.

Now, that was up to me. I should abstract my own concept of love to be able of sharing him with other people. I should be able of doing threesomes and, most of all, I should make myself able of being with and having feelings for other people, even if I was in love with him. Even if I was his wife.
And that was all I wanted to be.

Punk Rock Lover

I see myself through him,
I see the world through him

Through windows on his house
I see what he calls pain

And I could say I'm having the time of my life
Because I want him more that he could ever try

Mu punk rock lover,
I know I'm gonna miss you
My punk rock lover

I could be his girl, because I know
He would still love me if I ruled the world...