As palavras soltas de hoje falam sobre viajar. Um dia vou pegar num mapa e fechar os olhos. Vou apontar um local qualquer no mapa com o meu dedo indicador. Não importa qual. Os meus dedos já sabem onde, quando e como quero ir. Sem grandes pressas ou pressões. Apenas Paz e Foco. Focada. O resto vem. Aparece. Desenvolve. Andar de vespa pelas ruas de Roma. Pedalar pelas ruas de Amsterdão. Desenhar anjos na neve em Nova Iorque. Dançar uma valsa em Viena. Comer um croissant numa mesa exterior de uma confeitaria em Paris. ... Já estou a imaginar-me em Roma sentada na minha vespa, a qual pode ser alugada e vermelha, a analisar qual será o meu próximo ponto de paragem obrigatória. Os carros buzinam. Regras de trânsito não existem. Mas não importa. Os meus óculos de sol irão disfarçar o meu olhar amedrontado quando me sentir perdida. Um laço vermelho no cabelo servirá para me identificarem em qualquer lugar. Ou, simplesmente, para fazer pan-dan com a cor da vespa. E com os sapatos. E, talvez com a carteira. Mochila. Não importa. Buzinam. Os carros buzinam e eu continuo a olhar o mapa. Já sei! E arranco. Arranco sem destino. Vou para onde o vento me levar. Os meus cabelos esvoaçam. Não é que a vespa se desloque com muita velocidade... é apenas uma vespa com não sei quantos cavalos. Não importa. Sinto a brisa na minha cara. Respiro todo aquele ar italiano e deixo-me levar. Fecho os olhos por breves minutos. Juro que foi apenas o tempo necessário para memorizar aquele momento. Mais do que fotografias, coleciono corações, cheiros, abraços e toques. Guardo no meu álbum de memórias como se fossem pequenos grandes tesouros. E são. São porque os guardo de forma tão especial. A saia esvoaça. Os sapatos são vermelhos e frescos. E já não é necessário explicar porquê. Não importa. Buzino. Estaciono. E sento-me a comer um gelado enquanto me embebedo com a beleza que a Fontana di Trevi emana. Bem, mas estas já são outras palavras soltas. Ana Reis
Today my words talk about traveling. One day I'll take a map and close my eyes. I'll point a spot on the map with my pointing finger. It doesn't matter which one. My fingers know where, when and how I want to go. Without any rush or pressure. Just Peace and Focus. Focused. The rest comes. Pops up. Develops. Travelling in a vespa through the streets of Rome. Pedaling through the streets of Amsterdam. Draw angels in the snow in New York. Dancing a waltz in Vienna. Eat a croissant at an outside table in a coffee somewhere in Paris. ... I can already imagine myself in Rome sitting on my vespa, which can be rented and red, analyzing what will be my next obligatory stop. The cars honk. Traffic rules don't exist. But it doesn't matter. My sunglasses will hide my frightened look when I feel lost. A red bow on my hair will be used to identify me everywhere I go. Or simply to make pan-dan with the color of the vespa. And with my shoes. And, maybe with the wallet. Backpack maybe. It doesn't matter. Horn. The cars honk and I continue looking to the map. I already know! And I just drive. I drive with no destination. I'm going where the wind takes me. My hair flutters. It's not because of the high speed of vespa... it's just a vespa with... I'm not sure how many horses it has. But it doesn't matter. I feel the breeze in my face. I breathe all that Italian air and I let myself go. I close my eyes for a few minutes. I swear it was just the time I needed to memorize that moment. More than photographs, I collect hearts, smells, hugs and touches. I keep them on my memories' album as if they were small treasures. And they are. The skirt flutters. The shoes are red and fresh. And it is no longer necessary to explain why. It doesn't matter. I horn and park. And I sit down somewhere eating an ice cream while I get drunked with the beauty that Fontana di Trevi emanates. Well, but these are already enother kind of words. Ana Reis
Today my words talk about traveling. One day I'll take a map and close my eyes. I'll point a spot on the map with my pointing finger. It doesn't matter which one. My fingers know where, when and how I want to go. Without any rush or pressure. Just Peace and Focus. Focused. The rest comes. Pops up. Develops. Travelling in a vespa through the streets of Rome. Pedaling through the streets of Amsterdam. Draw angels in the snow in New York. Dancing a waltz in Vienna. Eat a croissant at an outside table in a coffee somewhere in Paris. ... I can already imagine myself in Rome sitting on my vespa, which can be rented and red, analyzing what will be my next obligatory stop. The cars honk. Traffic rules don't exist. But it doesn't matter. My sunglasses will hide my frightened look when I feel lost. A red bow on my hair will be used to identify me everywhere I go. Or simply to make pan-dan with the color of the vespa. And with my shoes. And, maybe with the wallet. Backpack maybe. It doesn't matter. Horn. The cars honk and I continue looking to the map. I already know! And I just drive. I drive with no destination. I'm going where the wind takes me. My hair flutters. It's not because of the high speed of vespa... it's just a vespa with... I'm not sure how many horses it has. But it doesn't matter. I feel the breeze in my face. I breathe all that Italian air and I let myself go. I close my eyes for a few minutes. I swear it was just the time I needed to memorize that moment. More than photographs, I collect hearts, smells, hugs and touches. I keep them on my memories' album as if they were small treasures. And they are. The skirt flutters. The shoes are red and fresh. And it is no longer necessary to explain why. It doesn't matter. I horn and park. And I sit down somewhere eating an ice cream while I get drunked with the beauty that Fontana di Trevi emanates. Well, but these are already enother kind of words. Ana Reis
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