domingo, março 26, 2006

Withering away...

I sit in the attic and look at the last flower you gave me... As time goes buy it's withering away almost as if it's a symbol of the memories in my mind. Every second that passes makes me want to leave you behind. Every moment, every breath of a word, every song, every whisper...
Can't you hear it? Time going by and memories dying?
When was the last time you let me dream? How long ago has it been since I've had myself to myself? Without the ghosts that scream in my brain and make me think about what was and of what could have been?
One day that flower is going to die. It's going to give up and just let itself go... I wonder of I'll be able to do the same? Will you ever die in me head? Will I ever repair the damage I've done to myself? Will I recover my faith in mankind? Will I ever give myself away again? WILL I? WILL I?
This question goes out to the ones I loved and that have turned their backs on me...
Shall I thank you for all the misery you made me go through? Shall I apologize for not being like you? Shall I see the passage of your presence in my life as a lesson? Should I blame you or myself?
If any one of you knows the answer, and you know who you are, all of you, please do share... I don't have the answers anymore. I always had the right answer didn't I? Part of my brilliance wasn't it?
Who will answer me now?

sexta-feira, março 24, 2006

Once and again...

You e-mailed me yesterday. You talked about what and where and in few words said everthing and nothing.
How does it boil down to this? One day you promise me the world, the next you drop it upon my shoulders.
It's difficult to swollow the happiness that you seem to exhale. It's not fair and to me it's ironic. You finaly got exactly what you were planning from the very beggining.
I was just a confortable mean to an end, wasn't I? A family away from home? A shoulder to cry on? A life to live with?
But still I ask myself... Why do I still give a damn? Why can't I just grieve and get over it?
You're not worth the tears or even the thoughts. You aren't worth a damn thing.
It is said that every dog has his day... Maybe someday I will have mine too...
But then again, I can't really believe that because people that don't deserve it get it easy, while those who try to live a decent life and be a decent person get screwed over once and again...

terça-feira, março 14, 2006


There it is my friends. Pure and simple. We are worthless. There is no god, no love, no friendship. Just oxigen that we inhale and exhale and a world of shit we leave behind whilst we live in this damn place. Unbeliveble is the fact that we dare say ourselves better than a common animal. They know more in an atom of their body that all mankind knows after thousands of years of evolution with it's so called reason.
The animal kills to survive. We survive to kill. Not in the strict phisical sense of killing, although we do do it, but we kill feelings and "break hearts" on a daily basis without giving a fuck if that is going to have any influence on the peolple that surround us.
When an animal fears it does one of two things, or it runs or it attacks. We do both! We run and attack treadding on anything that passes us not even looking back to notice if we hurt someone along the way. We are cowards filled with bullshit that don't even know how to live without killing along the way.
Even when we have a good instinct and try to tread easy, like walking on egg shells, trying not to hurt anyone, we are treadded upon with such force that we have no choice but to tread on others to in order to survive!
Were is the worth in living this way?
Living in a manner that would humiliate even a tiny ant.
There isn't any is there?
Helas! Ay, there's the rub!(Shakespeare)
We are indeed, Worthless.

terça-feira, março 07, 2006

How do i make it stop?

Como fazer parar? Como se pára a dor? Como é k volta atrás no tempo e refaço a história de forma a não cometer os erros? Porque é k a minha cabeça n me dá descanso? A ignorância é uma benção e às vezes mais vale nem sabermos que estamos mal porque só nos faz sentir pior. A dor física é mais do que suportável perante a dor emocional. Não é possivel tomar um analgésico para que a dor que sentimos no fundo do nosso ser desapareça ou se atenue. Sinto-me num limbo flutuante entre a dormência e a dor profunda. A dormência só me acorda para o nada que é minha vida e o vazio k nele perdura. Não tenho nada que preencha este espaço em branco que tenho por dentro. Quero me dar a todos mas não me quero dar a ninguém. Quero que a dor cesse de uma vez por todas porque é corrosiva e está a comer-me de dentro para fora e já se começa a reparar nas partes que faltam. É como ter uma lepra interna que nos vai comendo e bocados de nós vão-se soltando e perdendo pelo caminho. E não há forma de os recuperarmos ou voltarmos a ser o que éramos porque a cada minuto que passa sabemos que se torna cada vez mais irreversível e cada vez mais incurável. Há alturas que questiono o meu próprio ser. o Porquê de existir. Porque nascemos se afinal de contas cada segundo que passa vai-nos matando? Porque nascemos se às vezes só queriamos nunca ter existido? Porque vivemos se às vezes só queremos estar mortos? PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ?PORQUÊ? A pergunta que me assola, destrói e não se liberta da minha mente. PORQUÊ?PORQUE é que ela não desaparece? PORQUÊ?