Hoje as palavras soltas estão rebeldes. Rebeldes porque, ao contrário das outras vezes, vão escrever mais do que uma vez. Talvez rebeldes não seja a palavra mais correta. Talvez devesse dizer que as palavras soltas estão inspiradas! Quando estava na minha sessão de Kum Nye ouvi alguém dizer "- E ela começou logo a mandar vir comigo!" Dito e feito! O meu cérebro desligou-se do meu momento Zen e ligou a sua atividade cerebral no máximo. Mas que raio significa "mandar vir"? Na minha língua "mandar vir" é aquilo que nós fazemos quando nos apetece pedir uma pizza pra o jantar. "Manda vir uma pizza." Fiquei mesmo confusa e o meu cérebro começou a disparar faíscas por todo o lado! Fujam! Medo! O que há em mim é, essencialmente, cansaço. Poderia estar a inventar isto e aquilo. Poderia dizer que tenho tudo e nada. No entanto, o que eu tenho mesmo é cansaço, cansaço no seu estado de pureza mais avançado. O meu estado de Kum Nye atenua um pouco o cansaço que mora em mim. O raciocínio requintado das intuições insignificantes, as paixões violentas sem um final à vista, os amores enérgicos supostamente por alguém, ... entre muitas outras coisas. Estas coisas e as que ainda estão para vir. Tudo o que aconteceu e/ou ficou por acontecer, tudo o que acontece ou que ainda vai acontecer, tudo... Tudo isto causa em mim um cansaço. O cansaço que digo sentir. E ainda estou a pensar no cansaço que me causou aquela frase destemida, vinda do nada. Sem qualquer sentido na minha cabeça. É estranho como as palavras podem despertar sentimentos completamente díspares em nós. Algumas palavras são tão doces que parecem adocicar-nos a boca, como se fossem mel ou algo mesmo muito doce. Outras há que parecem beijar-nos, quase como se tivessem boca. Palavras extremamente doces, de amor desmedido e de esperança louca. Algumas palavras parecem estar despidas, nuas. E, então, tornam-se palavras doces, de amor, de esperança e nuas. Palavras nuas que beijamos quando a noite cai e nos deixam perdidos no mundo dos sonhos. Por vezes podem ser doces, menos doces ou, até mesmo, tornarem-se demasiado amargas. Outras palavras parecem um arco-íris. São completamente coloridas. Mas outras podem ser sem cor. Completamente pálidas. Depende de como os nossos olhos as vêem. E há aquelas palavras que deixamos perdidas num pedaço de papel qualquer. Palavras de amor, de revolta, a primeira letra do nome de quem amamos, ... Existem, ainda, palavras que nos fazem viajar. Viajar no tempo ou no espaço, ou num espaço temporal. Estas palavrassão podem ser perigosas. Podem transportar-nos de tal forma para longe que deixamos de ter noção do caminho de regresso. E podemos perder-nos. Ficar a viver num mundo de sonhos sem tempo nem espaço para nos atormentar. Mas também não estamos a viver. Mas isto já são outras palavras soltas. Ana Reis
Today my words are rebels. Rebels because I will write more than once in a day. Maybe rebels isn't the right word to apply. Maybe I should say that today my words words are inspiring! When I was in Kum Nye's my session I heard someone say: "- and she soon began to ask to come at me!" Said and done! My brain turned off my Zen moment and turned on my brain activity in the maximum. What the hell means "ask to come"? In my language "ask to come" is what we do when we want to order a pizza for dinner. "Maybe I'll ask to come a pizza." I was really confused and my brain started shooting sparks everywhere! Run! Fear! What's in me is essentially fatigue. I could invent this and that. I could say that I have everything and nothing. However, what I really have is tiredness, tiredness in his most advanced state of purity. My state of Kum Nye somewhat mitigates the fatigue that lives in me. The refined reasoning of insignificant intuitions, violent passions without an end, the energetic loves supposedly by someone, ... among many other things. These things and those that still to come. Everything that happened and / or that already haven't happen, everything that happens or that will happen, everything ... All this things cause me a fatigue way of living. The fatigue that I say that I feel. And I'm still thinking about the fatigue that caused me that fearless sentence, coming out of nowhere. Without any sense in my head. It is strange how words can evoke completely different feelings in us. Some words are so sweet that they seem to sweeten our mouth, like honey or something really sweet. There are others that seem to kiss us as if they had a mouth. Extremely sweet words of rambling love and mad hope. Some words appear to be naked, nude. And then become sweet words of love, hope and naked. Nude words that we kiss when the night falls and that let us completelly lost in the dream world. Sometimes it can be sweet, less sweet or even become too bitter. Other words seem a rainbow. They are completely colored. But others may be discolored. Completely pale. It depends on how our eyes see them. And there are those words that we left lost in a old piece of paper. Words of love, revolt, the first letter of the name of whom we love, ... There are also words that make us travel. Travel back in time or space, or in a timeline. These words can be dangerous. Can carry us so far that we lose the sense of the way back. And we can lose ourselves. We start to live in a dream world without time or space to torment us. But we aren't living. But these are already another kind of words. Ana Reis
Today my words are rebels. Rebels because I will write more than once in a day. Maybe rebels isn't the right word to apply. Maybe I should say that today my words words are inspiring! When I was in Kum Nye's my session I heard someone say: "- and she soon began to ask to come at me!" Said and done! My brain turned off my Zen moment and turned on my brain activity in the maximum. What the hell means "ask to come"? In my language "ask to come" is what we do when we want to order a pizza for dinner. "Maybe I'll ask to come a pizza." I was really confused and my brain started shooting sparks everywhere! Run! Fear! What's in me is essentially fatigue. I could invent this and that. I could say that I have everything and nothing. However, what I really have is tiredness, tiredness in his most advanced state of purity. My state of Kum Nye somewhat mitigates the fatigue that lives in me. The refined reasoning of insignificant intuitions, violent passions without an end, the energetic loves supposedly by someone, ... among many other things. These things and those that still to come. Everything that happened and / or that already haven't happen, everything that happens or that will happen, everything ... All this things cause me a fatigue way of living. The fatigue that I say that I feel. And I'm still thinking about the fatigue that caused me that fearless sentence, coming out of nowhere. Without any sense in my head. It is strange how words can evoke completely different feelings in us. Some words are so sweet that they seem to sweeten our mouth, like honey or something really sweet. There are others that seem to kiss us as if they had a mouth. Extremely sweet words of rambling love and mad hope. Some words appear to be naked, nude. And then become sweet words of love, hope and naked. Nude words that we kiss when the night falls and that let us completelly lost in the dream world. Sometimes it can be sweet, less sweet or even become too bitter. Other words seem a rainbow. They are completely colored. But others may be discolored. Completely pale. It depends on how our eyes see them. And there are those words that we left lost in a old piece of paper. Words of love, revolt, the first letter of the name of whom we love, ... There are also words that make us travel. Travel back in time or space, or in a timeline. These words can be dangerous. Can carry us so far that we lose the sense of the way back. And we can lose ourselves. We start to live in a dream world without time or space to torment us. But we aren't living. But these are already another kind of words. Ana Reis
Comentários
Enviar um comentário