Once upon a time there was a boy. Two esmerald ponds for eyes, a smile bigger than the moon and brighter than the sun, right below one of those infinite constellations of tiny red freckles...
A missed connection, some people would say, but I waited and waited and tried to wait some more, but the world kept moving and I moved along - blue crystals of ice, dark forests of chocolate, but nothing could match his infiinite gaze.
Who needed his light more than this lost girl? Who could match those long stares? Did she put out the fire of his head?
Oh, but no other girl could ever see and truly understand. The ships rowing through this boy's eyes are what keep me up at night, filled with dreams of what could've been. I'll keep writing endless lines of hope and desperation, and won't stop looking for that grin in all faces at daylight.
Because there's no one, not ever, not really, that could make me feel the way that pretty boy did.
Na semana passada, enquanto passeava pelo Tumblr, vi alguém a falar do novo videoclip dos Mumford & Sons e, my god, ainda não consegui parar de rir. Para além da qualidade da música a que a banda já nos acustomou, desta vez trouxeram um elemento surpresa: o humor.
Enquanto revia o filme 50/50 pela 3ª vez, os créditos começaram a rolar ao som de uma música que me esqueci que conhecia e que agora não me sai da cabeça. Como sempre, venho partilhá-la na blogosfera e talvez alguém tamém se lembre dela...
As férias já não estão propriamente no início e é difícil não pensar no novo ano letivo, o último, se tudo correr bem. Mas não, não me estou a passar, pelo menos até agora. Mas é estranho como a vida dá estas voltas... Pensei que ia para uma turma nova onde apenas um par de caras me seriam familiares mas afinal de contas não me vou afastar dos meus antigos colegas assim tão cedo. Tive um certo pressentimento, para ser sincera, mas hey!, se aconteceu foi por algum motivo, a grande mudança não tinha de acontecer agora.
Mas o verão está a ser interessante. Para ser honesta, não tenho ido muito à praia, acho que tenho demasiadas coisas aqui em que quero trabalhar, mas sair de casa tenho saído imensas vezes, mesmo que não seja para ir visitar o meu belo vizinho oceano. Pensei que ia trabalhar estas férias mas não tive essa oportunidade, então o melhor mesmo é aproveitar para dar vida aos 146989 biliões de ideias que andam a circular no meu cortéx frontal e desejar a todos que aproveitem também este tempinho livre.
Those memories we left in the late afternoon rain...I forgave you, but you couldn’t do the same. A black hole so painful to watch, I had to run. So, down the muddy trail I escaped, I kept on going until my tears dried up and my shades fell into the darkness. You disappeared and I never looked behind my trembling silhuette. For, like a time vortex, I couldn’t cross the barrier between our colors and go back.
I tried to find a brighter light inside an even darker future. I only hoped to find myself.
(inspired by: beautiful photographs of Lake District & Norfolk, England, like the one above; this song and this GIF)
I once stoped to rest my eyes. It felt like drowning in emptiness, just lying there and waiting for something I didn't know. There was a sense of nothingness in my mind, like time had to stand still, waiting for me to come back. But I wasn't ready for the light to cross my eyes, and everything outside just seemed too much of something, of everything. Facing it felt too out of place for someone who had been sleeping for so long. But this dark cave, it was confortable, it was safe, all my demons were there to embrace me, to protect me from the sun. It was strange, how accustomed I got to it in a few hours, but it was home to me. It was so dark, like the moon had frozen and the night was no longer temporary. If I could be quiet the day wouldn't have to come by and the clock couldn't really make me stand. Oh, but how sad was that little broken cave. So warm, so still for now and forever. And the world, and the people, and the sadness and the magnificence. You could lose and you could win, one at a time or all at once. The risks were frightning, and the excitment could make up for it. But waking up again, one more time, and living... how difficult.
Still we rise, no matter how long it takes, how numb our lives feel and how hard it is to shake everything off. A planet so tired and restless, so many paths and none at all... how could we resist and look away without one last peek?