Música

quinta-feira, junho 08, 2006

Awakenings

Awakenings…

Not, not the movie… the real ones… if there are such things…

In the morning… what do we feel?
What drives us to leave the comfort of our dreams and jump in to imperiousness of day stream?

What?

May we feel hope? May we feel the unexpected is about to jump on us after turning the corner?

Do we feel the magic of the unknown vibrating on the new air as we breath after the death of the senses and the peace of mind?

Or – are we trapped?

By the same day of yesterday?

As if repeating the moment – an eternity?

Feeling the same walls…

The same water of the shower running through our half asleep skin?

The same numbness… the same taste of oblivion… the lack of a dream waiting outside…

Commanded by need, by routine or simply by fear of letting all behind and simply… stay.

Daring a totally different day. A day in which the faces would be different, the feelings totally new…

The unexpected everywhere… the eclipse of mind over the burst of light when letting all go… challenging death by simply jumping on it… the death of the world known for the desire of the darkness in front…

Stepping in the nothingness… nothingness that can be a whole new universe… just by missing work… just by missing that appointment… just by taking the car, the bus, the train – with no direction….

Taking the first one… and go. With no clothes, with the money we have in the wallet… just going…

Defying the rule of usage, taking the farthest road possible…

Do we ever thought about this? Craved for this absolute insanity of entrusting our steps to unknown moments, unknown persons, unknown landscapes?

Would there be a “straight path” that would lead beyond the circular world we step each day?

Some distant shore in which there was no sea but just the nothingness… so we could jump… and be… and be… until being no more?

Then what?

Do we really know?

Do we really know where we are going? What we do in here? Do we really feel that certainty?

No?...

Then why do we hold on so much to these days, these moments we already know about? What do they give us?

How cheap do we sell our freedom for the comfort of the slavery… the known feeling of security that kills the moment… that ends the circle and closes the world upon us…

How much do we value ourselves.. how much costs a second in our lives…

How much do we feel and think about this in the numbness of the new day?

1 comentário:

tiger moon disse...

Não dorme sob os ciprestes,
Pois não há sono no mundo.
..................................................
O corpo é sombra das vestes
Que encobrem teu ser profundo.

Vem a noite, que é a morte,
E a sombra acabou sem ser.
Vais na noite só recorte,
Igual a ti sem querer.

Mas na Estalagem do Assombro
Tiram-te os Anjos a capa:
Segues sem capa no ombro,
Com o pouco que te tapa.

Não tens vestes, não tens nada:
Tens só teu corpo, que és tu.

Por fim, na funda Caverna,
Os deuses despem-te mais,
Teu corpo cessa, alma externa,
Mas vês que são teus iguais.
..................................................

A sombra das tuas vestes
Ficou entre nós na Sorte.
Não 'stás morto, entre ciprestes.
....................................................

Neófito, não há morte.


Então Arcanjos da Estrada
Despem-te e deixam-te nu.