Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Goodbye, Daughters of the Revolution

It came in an essay:

I wish not to harm you, I wish not to kill you. But you're starting to lose interest, and so am I. We are fading away, and what I thought I'd not lose, I'm starting to lose. How frail life is, specially when we make it frail.

You are there. I'm not with you.

Goodbye, daughters of the revolution.

(Title taken from The Black Crowes' Warpaint song Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution)

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Apocalipse

E hoje eu decidi ser normal, uma vez na vida
Porque é simples, é correto, e evita problemas
Evita desgastes, evita desuso,
Evita mania, perseguição, mania
E vai fazer diferença pra voce,
E para mim também.

Porque respirar é importante
E comer devagar
Morder e sentir o sabor das coisas lentamente
Sem pressa, sem pressa, sem mania
E estabelecer o controle sobre si, e respirar novamente
E tentar não se coçar, e fazer o que quer e não o que tem vontade
E hoje você fez o possível
E trazer abaixo o apocalipse
E trazer abaixo o apocalipse

E ganhar e perder de novo
It's the dirty dirty race

Monday, January 19, 2009

No Songs

Never been a singer
Singing songs to you
It's not so easy
If you knew what's going on
Never been a singer
And you would never know
How many songs I have written
All of them I haven't shown

Never been too creative
Never been too brave
Never have been able
To tell my real crave
Never tried to hurt
Those ones, but myself
And at the end I suffer
Even'side my shell

And how desire's burning
And yet, I hide myself
Cause inside, know I nothing
Just maybe am fated to'hell
Maybe what is sorrow
Maybe that I fell
And how desire's burning
And yet, it hides itself

And no songs have I sung to you
Preferred to sing to me
A song that talks 'bout doom
And heroism that flees
Strange so much am I
I'd rather leave me be
Inside a pool of blackness
Than tell you what I feel
A loser end, I'll tell you what
You'll soon be hearing me
Outside this pool of blackness
I'll tell you what I see

And in the end, I will fall
In water, love or ground
And wait for you, my so dear friend
My lover, my sweetness, my caring face
It will be yours a choice
To drown me, love or not
But I swear I'll do the most
That will need to be done
Hoping more than ever
A singer I'll become,
That this time, I'm not wrong
I'll sing to you a song

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Hell

And thus down went John to hell, his soul tainted in blood red. As he descended, spirals of black winds surrounded him, carrying dust, slag and darkness. His eyes were petrified; though blind, he saw everything through pain, like the hurts that every little thing in that disgraced place felt. And he was breathless, cause he started remembering.

After a while, he stopped his fall. Like a demon reached he the purgatory; the walls were full of faces, screaming; he heard the voices of the ones he'd killed, like whispers in his ears; and he saw those vengeful frowns, those gray horrors full of hate - for at that moment, none that forgave had stood; these lightful ones had taken other route, to a calmer and more peaceful place.

And John stood, too, in dreadness. Darkness surrounding him was weighing down on his shoulders. He stared ahead, through lifeless spaces, and saw a dark man standing tall, with a book and a hammer.

- Here thou art, John Horsehooves. Expected have I for this meeting, like none shouldst think. I've been waiting like no one.....

John stood silent. The scream of a thousand voices was deafening him for everything. The dark man kept on:

- You have died... So suddenly. Like a rock you have fallen to the ground, and so unfair was your death. So... sleepy. So calm. So like everything that you have not caused to others. - His voice started growing - So unfair in the ways that you tortured, so unfair in the ways that you murdered, so unfair in the ways you have acted. - And it went down again, calmer. - Ah, John, but today shall not be unfair. Today, all that was made will be paid; today, you have finally made the mistake, you have finally betrayed God! So arrogant! So egocentric! And today, all will have justice. These voices will not cease, your pain will not stop, not for today, neither forever.

The boy kept studying his choices, but he was too aware of what beset him. He dropped a tear and dried all others, unconsciously knowing he was being watched by all those spirits of hunger and pain, awaiting for the fall of the hammer for the feast.

- You see, Man, man who has died; I will pronounce each and every crime you have commited. The murdering of Anna Lee, 6...

John fell deaf, in a strange kind of way. All voices, all echoes were so loud he could not distinguish one from another. He could hear the spirits, he could hear the Devil himself laughing at him, he could hear the shadows moving around him, and the judge so proudly standing high on his grave.

And he felt himself being beheaded, every member of his body being constantly pulled off and then put together back again. And he knew not what was going on outside his mind, cause all his senses had started blending.

And then he came to consciousness, and the judge was finishing his list of seven hundred thirty seven deadly sins and starting the sum of all the other less important sins. And John knew, or at least most of him knew, that at the end of that, he would be lost, damned forever. And he shivered, only once.

And the judge finished his list.

- Here we come to the end of more than an hour, Horsehooves. Easy enough is judging you... I hereby sentence you to the ninth level of Hell, the Cocytus. And may the devil never have mercy on you.

Suddenly all the spirits started laughing strongly at him. And the feast would start. There, at the purgatory, none had the leave to begin it, but once on the path to Hell, every one of them could do so. And a gate surged, swirling through the air, and started sucking his life. He felt it swipping away, his consciousness being torn apart, he felt his feet lighter and suddenly he was flying, already halfway to eternal darkness. And his soul, oh dear Lord, how could that ache so much; it was tearing itself in two, widening like a sheet on a bed, and that feeling of emptiness on him did not seem to vanquish.

And his soul glittered. In that darkness, it glittered once, right in the heart, and the pain of the tearing was at its utmost. He screamed, longly and lonely, and then he felt things calmer. And wind stopped to wind; and darkness stopped to darken; and suddenly everything was back to the purgatory's dreariness.

He lied on the ground, exhausted. Sweat was dripping from his soul. The judge looked astounded, confused, unknowing what had happened. "This is awkward. It seems that the goodness in you did not let itself be torn from the rest. I see here, boy... A mind manipulation. Yet you let it happen to you. Yet you were weak"

- But... it was not my fault.

- No use in begging for mercy. A righter damnation may yet be found to you. The Fourth Level of Hell, wherein you'll pay the greed for which you sold yourself.

Now, blackness and redness started to mix themselves down to the purgatory, descending upon that lying John. And the boy hovered around silently, though Hell swayed and walls crumbled, and within him that tearing feeling like pain that none could stand, in that cyclone of silence that deprived him from screaming. Again, the spirits hungered behind him, and still were they upset, for again, John could not be torn that easily; the Gates closed before him, unwilling to accept that sinner.

The boy crashed on the floor, leaving wreckage all around. The judge himself moved towards him, not able to believe in such occurence. Few times before had it happened, and most of them for the judge's lack of interest in properly judging (and again, most times for a judge's underestimating a sinner - some people just didn't seem so good). The man thought about his judgement, and once again read the book. Nothing. Everything was too damn right... wasn't it?

- I give you the chance to defend yourself, boy. - said he.

John slowly stood up. He cleaned his throat - he had got his chance. Still, he could barely breathe, and the pain still ached, and the grumbling of a thousand angry souls could be easily heard right now. Everything was odd; everyone was waiting angrily for his judgement, everything unusually started working in his favors; why was that? He had turned his back on God by his own mind.

- I was manipulated as a child who could not defend himself; I was abused and taken advantage of, by Him, my master. I did not think with my own mind, did I? Here I stand before your trial, but he should be here on my place.

The judge stood still for a while, then spoke again:

- Yet you have betrayed God, and in his kingdom you'll not enter. Therefore, your place is here. I hereby let the Nine Hells choose your fate. Farewell, Children of Death.

John didn't understand, and he feared deeply. Again, his defiance took place in his judgement, and he was convicted for that. When he realized, he was again off the ground, being smothered by some invisible gelatinous substance. Nine Portals opened around him, each of them sucking him and releasing him. No pain can be like that, and no one can stand it, including John. His heart gleamed for a last time, and he lost consciousness. Everything went dark, and the Purgatory was gone.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Escuro

- E você virou meus soldados contra mim
- Mas eu nunca deixei de lutar por você
- Mas ainda assim causou rebelião, não?
- E você não fez nada! Nada! Por um momento eu pedi que você entendesse, que você soubesse o que eu estava sentindo... que, caralho, eu estou descontente mas estou na guerra por você. Que eu sou negro por dentro espalhando a luz por fora. Ou que profetizo palavras negras e exemplifico atos brancos. E você não vai me entender? Você não vai entender que está na merda da hora de você parar de fazer eles se matarem, de fazer eles finalmente se entenderem? Deus, por favor, me entenda... Eu me ajoelho aqui frente a você; vê que ainda pingo o sangue da derrota, a lágrima do vencido, a fadiga do escravo, a vergonha do desconhecido. Mas nunca deixei de seguir teus comandos. Por mais que você fosse meu oponente declarado, nunca deixei de fazer sua vontade. Nunca deixei de fazer com que os eventos levassem à sua vitória. Eu virei minhas costas à você, não à sua causa. E não vê? Fui até o fim pelo que seria o seu ápice, a sua glória. Morri por você. Sangrei por você. Deixei tudo para trás por você. E talvez seria melhor ter me afundado no meu próprio egoísmo, mas parece que ultimamente não importa o bem que você causa. Importa o quão cego você é. É tudo que você enxerga; e vais me condenar. Vais me queimar. Por quê? Por quê faz isso?
- ...
- Por que... ? Por quê?
- ...Porque eu deixaria entrar no céu um inimigo declarado de mim?
- ...
- Vá conversar com o diabo. Ele costuma aceitar inimigos.