Ela te disse que eras especial,huh?
mas nunca estava nem aí?

ela perguntou se estava tudo bem,mas nem ao menos existia.

você disse tudo que podia,
e esse foi seu erro.
ficou tão vulnerável e cego
que nem viu que já estavas a cair a muito tempo.

quando bate no fundo do abismo
dói
suas pernas quebram
e não da pra sair de lá tão cedo

mas o pior de tudo

é que
não foi
a
primeira
vez.

As vezes parece que você encontra o que estava procurando.

mas na verdade era tudo uma mentira

mas você não quer acreditar.

e então tudo vem a tona de uma hora para outra

e
você caí,
e fica caido no chão,
suas pernas estão quebradas,
te jogaram fora.

denovo

não há ninguém do seu lado
mas você vai gritar um pouco
e
vai esperar

talvez amanhã
talvez depois de dormir
ou depois da chuva
ou das lágrimas cessarem
você possa voltar pra guerra
mesmo sabendo que vai cair denovo
e denovo.

I KNOW YOU (5:34--ROLLINS, The Boxed Life Spoken Word [disk 2 #8])

I know you. You are too short. You have bad skin. You couldn't talk tothem very well. Words didn't seem to work. They lied when they came out ofyour mouth. You tried so hard to understand them. You wanted to be part ofwhat was happening. You saw them having fun, and it seemed like such amystery--almost magic. It made you think that there was something wrongwith you. You'd look in the mirror trying to find it. You thought that youwere ugly and that everyone was looking at you. So you learned to beinvisible, to look down, to avoid conversation. The hours, days, weekends.

Ahh, the weekend nights alone. Where were you? In the basement? In theattic? In your room? Working some job, just to have something to do, justto have some place to put yourself, just to have a way to get away fromTHEM. A chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange andill-at-ease inside yourself.

Do you ever get invited to one of their parties? You sat and wondered ifyou would go or not. For hours you imagined the scenarios that mighttranspire. They would laugh at you. If you would know what to do. If youwould have the right things on. If they would notice that you came from adifferent planet. Did you get all brave in your thoughts? Like you weregoing to be able to go in there and deal with it, and have a great time. Didyou think that you might be "the life of the party?" That all these peoplewere going to talk to you and you would find out that were wrong. That youhad a lot of friends and you weren't so strange after all. Did you end upgoing? Did they mess with you? Did they single you out? Did you find outthat you were invited, because they thought you were so weird?

Yeah, I think I know you.

You spent a lot of time full of hate. A hate that was as pure as sunshine.A hate that saw for miles. A hate that kept you up at night. A hate thatfilled your every waking moment. A hate that carried you for a long time.Yes, I think I know you. You couldn't figure out what they saw in the waythey lived. Home was not home! Your room was home. A corner was home. Theplace THEY weren't, that was home.

I know you. You're sensitive, and you hide it because you fear gettingstepped on one more time. It seems that when you show a part of yourselfthat is the least bit vulnerable someone takes advantage of you. One ofthem steps on you. They mistake kindness for weakness, but you know thedifference. You've been the brunt of their weakness for years and strengthis something you know a bit about because you had to be strong to keepyourself alive.

You know yourself very well now and you don't trust people, you know themtoo well. You try to find that special person, someone you can be with,someone you can touch, someone you can talk to, someone you won't feel sostrange around. And you found that they don't really exist. You feel closerto people on movie screens.

Yeah, I think I know you.

You spend a lot of time day dreaming and people have made comment to thataffect telling you that you are self involved and self centered. But theydon't know, do they. About the long night shifts alone. About the yearsof keeping yourself company. All the nights you wrapped your arms aroundyourself so you could imagine someone holding you. The hours of indecision.Self doubt. The intense depression. The blinding hate. The rage that madeyou stagger. The devastation of rejection.

Well , maybe they do know. But if they do they sure do a good job ofhiding it. It astounds you how they can be so smooth. How they seem to passthrough life, as if life itself was some divine gift. And it infuriates youto watch yourself with your apparent skill in finding every way possible toscrew it up.

For you, life is a long trip. Terrifying and wonderful. Birds sing to youat night. The rain and the sun, the changing seasons are true friends.Solitude is a hard-one ally--faithful and patient.

Yeah, I think I know you.

eu li kafka em quadrinhos esses dias

A borboleta voava enquanto o garoto ,sentado,balançava sozinho.
Era uma balança azul.
Era uma borboleta branca.
A borboleta voava livremente ,enquanto a balança só ia pra frente e pra trás.
O garoto queria parar,mas seus pés não tocavam o chão.
Ele queria pedir ajuda,mas todos estavam muito longe,e suas palavras se perdiam no ar.
Ininteligíveis.Incompreensíveis.
Restava-lhe apenas observar a borboleta,que agora se afastava cada vez mais,e desejar que algo o transformasse em uma também.

Enquanto isso,as máquinas serviam café quente na cidade e cada um tinha sua xícara,
mas suas almas continuavam frias.