quinta-feira, 27 de junho de 2013

Deturpação.

Delimitados por um só muro
Fortalecidos pela divisão que nos tortura
Entorpecidos,
Perante a garra do poder.

De um utilizador gasto
Nasce um criador vasto
Um deus inato
Um poder abstrato.

Diligências de uma comunidade perdida
(tão menos como sociedade,
tão menos como absolvida)
Um resquício de liberdade.

A revolução não começou.
A castração do Homem tardou.

Uma eterna espécie,
(não tão eterna quanto isso)
Apresenta-se no pódio da solicitude
 Um tão querido perdão
Perdido com a virtude.

quinta-feira, 13 de junho de 2013

Lapso.

"Não posso apaixonar-me"
Dizia uma alma consumada em dores 
Seria essa a barreira que a protegia ?
Ou seria só uma das armadilhas?

Não haveria então coisa mais bela do que o amor?
Mas pois então
Não se pode confiar em algo
Que decerto nos trás dor.

Seja agora ou depois
Um dia ou à noite
Não haverá infinidade
Não há nada que nos agrade.

No entanto
A felicidade não vem e o coração estagna.
A água da alma apodrece.
Vermes e podridão
Consomem os alicerces das defesas.

Não ataca de fora,
Ataca por dentro.

E assim nasce uma nova vontade.
As defesas abrem-se
Destruídas.
Uma nova disponibilidade

Não espreita ninguém
Porém a alma sai à procura de alguém.
Perder-se-á.
Outra vez.

sexta-feira, 7 de junho de 2013

Homícidio.

Um quarto preenchido
De memórias vazias

Uma vida de merda com um fundo de ouro
Um fundo manchado 
Manchado eternamente.

Não há eternidade na invisibilidade
Não há nada que seja eterno.
Ou melhor
Haverá.

Quando não há escolha
Quando a multidão se amotina contra ti
Quando o espetro da realidade 
É a vida que tu queres ter
Mas tens de uma forma que não existe.

Sinto vontade de matar tudo e todos
Matar tudo o que existe
Garantir que nada mais existirá.
Tornar-me um anti-deus.

Devia aniquilar a existência do Universo.
Para que assim,
Existisse algo eterno: o nada.

domingo, 2 de junho de 2013

Robert.

Robert woke up.
That night he had dreamt about something weird, something he could not remember.but it had felt so real.
That day was normal, and the after, and even the next one. A whole month has passed and he could not forget that night where reality and dreams hat gotten mixed in his mind and left nothing behind. Or so he thought. He consulted psychics and psychologists in order to know what had happened.
One day, a friend suggested: "you should try hypnosis" and so did he.

You'll feel dizzy

You're falling asleep

Remember, go back in time.

Live it.

And so there he was.
All he felt was that he was going through a huge déja vu. Everything felt real again, the world, there it was. And then, slowly, the surroundings became lucid and everything was black. Not just black but the darkest black he had ever seen. The floor was cold and humid. A fresh and sublime wind was blowing. Drops of some liquid were falling... slowly, as if building a rythim. A frightening sense of calm got into Robert's mind. He tried to get up but his legs were tied to each other causing him to fall on the hard cold, stone floor. All he was wearing was a t-shirt and shorts, so he started shaking involuntarily. The wind was now colder than ever and the floor was getting wetter as if that room was flooding. Panic got into him. He crawled, in a desperate attempt to find a way out of there but all he found was a stone disaggregated from the floor and its place, now filled with the cold liquid. He drinked that. A chill went through his body and an odd feeling got him. Something was wrong, that didn't feel like water. It was liquid but tasted irony. He couldn't even see his hands. He tried rubbing the rock on the floor so some spark could briefly illuminate that space. Not succeeded. The floor was too wet. Robert lied down on his back, with no energy, Everything he could think of was apparently impossible and there was no way out. He screamed for help and cried. Tried to remember anything besides that dark room but it felt as if he had been there ever since he was born and, as long as he could see, until he died. 
Exactly, he thought, I'll be there as long as I'm alive, there is a way out.

Robert grabbed the rock and hit himself in the head. Grueling pain took over his body and he couldn't stop screaming. He touched his head. Blood. Strangely, the feeling of touching that was familiar and touched the liquid again, that now was flooding five inches above the floor. The liquid felt the same. The liquid was blood. Robert was now terrified. He was now about to swim in blood. Chills went over his spine as he dropped the rock and the noise eccoed. It was deafening. His ears were now unable to ear the blood dripping, his eyes were unable to see. His senses were slowly, one by one, betraying him.
Robert woke up. He had fainted because of the excruciating pain he was feeling. For a second he had hopes of waking up in a lightful place, with people, and movement. He was thirsty, hungry and hadn't opened his eyes yet, afraid of what was beyond his eyelids. After a time thinking wether he should or not open his eyes, he decided he had nothing to lose. Although, when he tried opening his eyes, nothing happened. Fear. His hands touched his eyes, or better: the gaps where before were his eyes. He felt the urge to cry but nothing happened.
I need to end this. Now

But there was no rock anymore. His heart was beating faster than ever before. Exaggerated doses of adrenaline were running through his blood. Fear and dispair were everything he could feel.
Suddenly, he had an idea. He tried to sit, but something's missing. They haven't only taken the eyes. He had nothing below his waist. Some cirurgic procedure has been made on him. He was not bleeding.Or so he couldn't feel it. Pain. Unbearable pain. A good and satisfying pain. A liberating pain he felt, when his teeth drilled his wrist's skin so deep, that a bone-on-bone sound eccoed through the room. Blood was sprinkling his face and pain no more was felt.
Robert woke up. A knife was sticked in his chest as he was lying on his back on the doctor's couch. Robert's hands were holding the knife. His head felt powerless to his right side. There he could see another body, dressed as a doctor that looked strangely familiar. The last thing Robert saw, was de dead doctor's tag:
Dr. Robert.

sábado, 1 de junho de 2013

Contraste.

Um secreto passe para o fim
Infinito fim
Onde o sentido da vida se perde
E a morte o ganha.

Terá sentido
Viver a vida sem um objetivo ?
Vivo ou Morto
Viverei.

Sobreviverei 
Até as correntes do tédio me amarrarem
Até a semente do pessimismo se instalar em mim

Estabilizarei
Os meus sonhos
Adiarei tudo para depois
E depois me arrepender.

Serei simultaneamente
O mártir e o culpado
da minha longa (ou curta) existência.