ripples
in puddles,
along the roads of mud
leading the refuge.
drops or words?
Rain or altercation?
A wet silence
that paves the way between you and me.
Only the scent
bark soaked
and leaves
green for a short while
remind me that I am alive
while my body
battered by a flood
silent.
October 2006
Listening: Apollo Nove feat. Ceu - Inexplicata
I try to envision the idea of \u200b\u200bme in the imagination of your loved ones.
The always look carefully, you know, your friends, meeting them and embarrassed when people ask me how I am. When we lost sight of, I met Laura at the station, and did not know whether to hope that ascended on a carriage away from the mine or to come and sit beside me, so you can ask of you. I laugh when I think of the strange and absurd form of embarrassment. Now I've got peer Ivan, when we take you to our meetings. It 'was always so friendly with me, still greets me with that smile that I always considered the result of a sincere and even the slightest consideration, but as it moves away I wonder how you talk about me when you put your trust. I do not know if you do, really, but I guess so.
Perhaps because, probably, if I were a close friend for years, I would tell you to be careful to draw closer to someone you've already visited and in some how did you feel bad. True friends behave like this. Must do so, says the contract of friendship that you sign when you unknowingly shaking hands and decide to be friends. Some clauses that recite the friend can also be used to lie if this is to avoid the trouble to another person provided the policyholder. In the sense that you always say things to protect his friend, sometimes no interest to analyze the situation objectively. So I would also be able to appreciate it, Ivan, if I say I'm a bastard and me not to be trusted. For a while 'time I may have even hoped that he did not ask me now because, until then I realized that is not true in any way, and that was a stupid thought.
The things you said, you know, there was a period in which I have self-served up in a diluted, but dry, precise. I had the time and how to think very carefully about the things I had reproached and which at the time I had given little weight. That part of you that I did not understand was the part of me was looking for. Elasticity mental I call it, but it is simplistic and inaccurate. My mind is already perceived as very elastic, and fortunately very trained in different disciplines, but I lacked that touch of 'lightness' that I never understood that and then I read in the light of the depth I went chasing. Things then I realized through all my tracks, or tracks from people who have crossed my path led me to untie a bit 'from the constraints of certain fixed ideas I had. And my idealism took a turn more 'realistic'. Like at the bottom of my being small, imperfect and limited. My dreams are still there, intact, but I will be more peaceful if not achieve. How many saw mental, eh? Did I read that publication about, remember? When you know you recognize certain mental processes, it is nice to see them clearly formed in your head and secure them on paper. The moment, in this way, you have them, dominate them, can not more than you fear. You can set them aside, because you know you do not need them, even if you were fond of us.
And so I smile, even when I am surprised to observe for longer than you had the eyes of someone who knows you and knows me too. It 's just a stupid little game of my mind and can not trigger in me more than a smile.
"What are you laughing, you fool?" I tell you, coming.
"Nothing ... is that today you seem more beautiful" I think, recovering from distraction.
But I do not say I say nothing, and with another smile.
Listening: Grace - Jeff Buckley
