domingo, 18 de junho de 2017

Mountain and green ball

I decided to climb the mountain. The top is cloudy, and so high that no one can see its peak. There is a heavy forest at the base, where many beings lost themselves. Some died in angriness, madness, passion, and some became ghosts.  The middle part of the mountain is just volcanic sand and dense rocks. Where an infinite stairway of stones leads to an endless end. 

I started climbing through the dense forest. Where ghosts were roaming everywhere, they did not know they were ghosts when they came and talked to me. At the beginning, I wanted to tell them, but I realized that when I started to talk, they could not see me anymore. Weird phenomenon. 

The dense forest was wonderful land. Beautiful waterfalls and many types of trees and lakes with reflecting-water-sunlight. Many fruits, animals and trees. But it was so dense and sometimes so dark and so easy to get lost. Part of me wanted to stay there, eating juicy fruits. The other part wanted to leave. Deep inside my heart, the mountain’s voice was talking to me.

It was a hard decision, but I finally reached the border. Looking at miles of dead land, sand and stone ahead of me, I froze. Why should I go there? That mountain, I do not even know were and if it has an end. There is nothing and there may be nothing afterwards. But I knew that all those thoughts were just lies. The mountain’s voice talked to me again. I started climbing, no looking back. 

I stop. I cannot take another step. My backpack is just too heavy. For climbing this, I need to take only what is necessary. I open it; there are some minor things I do not need anymore. I eat a fruit. I take this green transparent glass ball from inside. I have this ball for a while now. I remember looking to the world through it. It gave me this interesting distortion of things around me. It was interesting to look through it and see the things in a different way. 

I sit down. I hold it with both hands and put it in front of my eyes, and in an instant, everything becomes greenish and distorted. I feel kinda drunk, kinda high. I laugh, it is fun to do this. I do this for a long time, days pass by. My eyes start to get tired. My head hurts. My body is telling me it cannot take it anymore, although my mind does not know exactly what is going on.

It’s hard to let it go. I had good times with this green glass ball. I am divided between staying here with headache and drunkenness, both pain and pleasure… or climbing the mountain, as the voice just reminded me. There is nothing more to be done.

I stand. I lower my hands; I see the world once again how it is. Like the forest, the ball had many things to offer for me to stay. But I need to continue climbing, and this ball is too heavy to carry with me. I open my hands, I let it go. I though it was going to break or stay still at the same place. But it rolls back to the forest. It-rolls-back to the forest. Maybe it is happy there, maybe it will become a ghost. Maybe a waterfall. I hope it becomes something beautiful. 

I breathe. I feel everything felt into place. Before closing the backpack, I grab another juicy fruit. I take a bite, I climb one step, I take another bite, I climb another step, bite, step, bite, step, bite, step…

quarta-feira, 2 de novembro de 2016

Sem tradução

Sinto saudades do que não fomos
Sinto saudades daquilo que não sabemos
Já sentiu saudades de algo que nunca aconteceu?
Queria que fossem saudades 
Daquilo que ainda não aconteceu

Tenho saudades dos lugares onde não te vi
Das dores que eu sempre sinto
E ainda jaz aqui, aquilo que aprofunda mais ainda
Esse sentimento de rindu
Ainda não traduzido

Saudades são medos instalados
Que viraram cistos no peito, por coisas inacabadas
Daquilo que existem nas dimensões da mente
Dos sonhos
E em todas as outras ao mesmo tempo

Das coisas que mais sinto saudade
90 por cento é irreal
10 por cento é ilusório

Criaturas que habitam o ser
Que se alimentam de nostalgia
Olhar estagnado na linha paralela
Preso entre dois mundos
Da grande dor
Do grande prazer

Essa é a fórmula
Para a grande jornada da alma
Suicídio do eu
Afogamento no mar de som
De cicatrizes
Lugar da verdade

Sinto saudades do que não fui
Sinto saudades do que não sei
Queria que fossem saudades 
Daquilo que ainda não aconteceu

quinta-feira, 27 de outubro de 2016

The good lie

Reality is boring
Everywhere you go
Reality is the same
People wake up
Sometimes get up
Eat (for those who can)
Work (for those who must)
Walk around passing ghosts
Hunting the city
Eat again (if very lucky)
Go to sleep (if very empty)

I can't
When the night rises
And all the deformed creatures
Leave their holes
When the dim light
Can't show shapes clear
And everything can be beautiful
By just putting a red
Dull light over it
It gains new form, a new history
A new angle through your lenses

Nights dignifies beings
Mislead our perception
What is black and white?
There is no such a thing
No shadows to blame
Everything is drunken dark
Things can only be seen
Through the eyes of our hands
And the eyes of our senses
Since the eyes that shallowly judge
In darkness are completely blind

Reality is boring
The night drives it away
And we create our own world
Through melodies and loud noises
Through white and colored powder
Covering our faces
Through lipsticks and ropes
Immobilizing our bodies
Freeing our souls
Cutting, hurting our skin
Healing our wounds

The true reality
We create our own
In our particular, micro cosmos
Which one is yours?
That's the primary function of art
Thus artists we could all be
If we cannot go to sleep
Over many ways we give life
To these new universes
Being through blood (for those who bleed)
Or words (for those who lie)


Singapore, oct.2016

Poor in Singapore

Poor of those souls trapped here
In this perfect, aligned, OCD paradise
Amusement park to prevent your complaining
/Thinking too much
But even in this task it fails
For being so dull, so doited

Poor 11 years old soul
Forever drowned into your fake lake
Taken away by this insanity
Where skyscrapers creeps me
And concrete and steel are build
With human souls

What can you show me beside
These too clean streets?
These too safe alleys?
These too guarded corners
Where cameras are the only eyes
That follows me

How can you unmask this?
Vertical cemeteries of people
Buried alive, thinking they live
They are just ghosts hunting this ghost city
The city of everyone and no one at the same time

Pour me a beer
Let's get drunk while watching
Others guts spread all over
While witnessing a Chinese fight
With eyes on fire but hands out!
So funny...

How can we unveil at least one truth?
In this city of fake lions, fake lies
By letting the bar close
And every one go
By letting the comfort of darkness
Sweep away from our mouths
The ugly beautiful deep desires
Talks about the end of the world

The real you is in the empty
Parking lots
The half dirty forgotten places
Inside this fragile skinny and wonderful
Singaporean body
Whose soul doesn't belong here
But somewhere in the infinite sky

The real you is in this
Synchronistic moment
When I fell this building were
Made only to sustain our feet
So we could stand here
Looking down and laughing
At those foolish city lights

How can you show me its true side?
By colorful donkeys
With happy and sad eyes
Inside an empty house
Wanting more, but afraid to ask

Poor of those souls
That didn't met you
And the shy and horny
Fire in your eyes
Don't look at me with those eyes again
Or I'll spend all my money
With Singaporean flights