Sento-me à mesa da cozinha. Fumo mais um cigarro. Escrevo sentimentos manuscritos. Sinto que cresci. Terminei um livro, sem terminar um capítulo da minha vida - ou terá terminado um, mais breve, com poucas páginas (as que lhe demos), mas mais intenso que um livro completo, com princípio, meio e fim.
Sinto-me mais madura. O que se terá passado esta noite em mim? Nada que eu tenha percebido. Nada de que eu me tenha apercebido. Talvez sentido. E será talvez com a vinda da manhã que eu o possa perceber mais claramente. Ou não.
Silleda, 12 de Julho
Big Me to talk about it I stand the groove If we can get around it I'll know that it's true
Well I talked about it, carries on Never was it true
Sento-me à janela do terceiro andar. Fumo um cigarro. Penso em...
Oiço Foo Fighters, My Hero. E discorre o pensamento: só existe o herói quando está lá para nós. Ou quando esteve, naquele ínfimo momento perdido algures no tempo.
Não falo (ou não escrevo) rancorosa, não. Assertiva, talvez. Ou simplesmente decidida. Do que não tenho. Do que sei querer. Até um ponto. Porque sei, sempre soube, aliás, que era apenas até certo ponto. Sei perfeitamente que depois de ter o que queria, todo o interesse desvaneceria. Ou não?
Silleda, 12 de Julho
too alarming now to talk about take your pictures down and shake it out truth or consequence, say it aloud use that evidence race it around
I've got another confession to make I'm your fool Everyone's got their chains to break Holdin' you
Were you born to resist or be abused? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Are you gone and on to someone new? I needed somewhere to hang my head Without your noose You gave me something that I didn't have But had no use I was too weak to give in Too strong to lose My heart is under arrest again But I break loose My head is giving me life or death But I can't choose I swear I'll never give in No, I refuse
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel You trust, you must confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel The life, the love you'd die to heal The hope that starts the broken hearts You trust, you must confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
I've got another confession my friend I'm no fool I'm getting tired of starting again Somewhere new
Were you born to resist or be abused? I swear I'll never give in I refuse
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you? Has someone taken your faith? Its real, the pain you feel You trust, you must confess Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
*I hope that someone is. Or else your just misusing yourself. Misusing life. Love and life. Life and love. In the end, it's all the same. Isn't it?
P.S. Ando pelo apartamento a berrar isto do fundo dos meus pulmões. E eu cá sei porquê. E nunca algo foi tão verdade. Até sexta!
Foo Fighters - The Pretender. Porque me diz tanto. Em uníssono com a revolta que surge quando me deparo com a mesquinhez das pessoas.
What if I say I'm not like the others? What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays? You're the pretender What if I say I will never surrender?
In time or so I'm told I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well The page is out of print We are not permanent We're temporary, temporary Same old story
I know what you're thinkin'
We were goin' down
I can feel the sinkin'
But then I came around
And everyone I've loved before
Flashed before my eyes
And nothin' mattered anymore
I looked into the sky
Well we all want something better than
We wish for something new
Well we all want something beautiful
Wish for something true
Been lookin' for a reason and
Something to lose
When the wheels come down
When the wheels touch ground
And you feel like it's all over
There's another round for you
When the wheels come down
Letargia. Era este o termo que procurava para definir o meu estado. Letargia.
Hoje, há apenas um burburinho das obrigações e responsabilidades que me tumultua. Apenas isso. Se aparentemente me movo, é apenas isso, aparentemente. Por dentro, prolonga-se o sentimento de ontem: Still
If you'd like to walk a while
We could waste the day
Follow me into the trees
I will lead the way
Bring some change up to the bridge
Bring some alcohol
There we'll make a final wish
Just before the fall
Promise I will be forever yours
Promise not to say another word
Nevermind whats done is done
Always was a lucky one
Watch the sunrise all alone
Sitting on the tracks
Hear the train come roaring in
Never coming back
Laying quiet in the grass
Everything is still
River stones and broken bones
Scattered on the hill
Promise I will be forever yours
Promise not to say another word
Nevermind whats done is done
Always was a lucky one
Promise I will be forever yours
Promise not to say another word
Here forever deep beneath the dirt
Nevermind whats done is done
Always was a lucky one
Seguindo a linha do a-r-d-e-r e-m f-e-b-r-e, que já não é bem arder, é mais um, n-ã-o a-g-u-e-n-t-a-s 8 h-o-r-a-s s-e-m m-a-m-a-r m-a-i-s u-m (comprimido, claro!).