Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Chapter 16 : The weeping song

20/12/2o12

"I should have come here before. Can you believe it, but i didn't even go to your funeral? I know, i know, it was stupid of me. But i just couldn't."
"You know? I just stayed home looking at the mirror, and it was as if everything i ever learned in my life suddenly and misteriously had disappeared."
"It took me two hours to tie a bloody knot in my tie, and then i almost ended up choking myself. I was on my way out when i noticed i was wearing a white shirt, a black tie, my pajamas trousers, and those old red All Stars you so liked."
"I fell to the floor, my love. It took me two days to get up. And then another three to go out again."
"Then i disappeared."

"I know it's something that always confused you a great deal. Yous aid it so yourself, so many times that i really shouldn't complain for not having that many friends, or people who cared for me, when i would just disappear from their lives without even the smallest notice, or explanation given."

"I'm cold. My hands, my feet are cold. And so is my heart."
"It's funny, it' snowing here in Lisbon... I guess it snows for the first time in decades. But it makes everything so much more beautiful. It looks like a bride's veil covers all of existence. Everything is pure. Everything is certain."

The cold, or the snow, i don't know, turned my tears into small stalactites. Or stalagmites, i never knew the difference.
"It's such a shame they didn't bury you next to the trees. I know you loved them so much. And they held such signifcance for us. Remember? Heh. Our first time was against a tree, in Sintra... i was seething with desire. I wanted you so much, and when i felt you inside me for the first time, i howled so loud i swear i must have woken up half the village."

"But it's pretty, your grave. I like the small angel. It reminds me of you, and that perfume you had that drove me wild. It´s pretty. And i see they respected your last wish. They engraved the words by which you always lived your life."

"Winter is coming", you said, so very long ago.
"And you didn't mean the coming season, but the cruel, hard times that were on our way... and the winter of our lives came so, fast, beloved."

"They say that in love, as in war, all is fair, and their designs are all too cruel for they exclude such concepts as "right or "wrong". And so we fought such an uphill battle, against the harshest obstacles for the longest time. It was a war, my love, and we both fell prey to it."
"Once, we were soldiers, you and i. And none of us deserved this. We should have gone beyond the veil hand in hand. We should have shuffled off this mortal coil together."
"Death has made you a King of winter."
"Wait for me, please. Soon we'll be together again."

I have no idea why, but i saluted your grave. Surely i was at my wits end.
"At ease, soldier. At ease.", i said.

I turned my back on the graveyard by moonlight, looked up at the sky, and stopped for a few moments, letting the snow fall on my face."
I put the headphones on my ears, turned on the mp3 player, and music started playing.
The most appropriate song ever, i thought.

"It's the end of the world as we know it!"

R.E.M., It's the end of the world as we know it

2 comments:

Cristina said...

Oi... à medida que vou lendo o que escreves (e já te disse que gosto muito da forma como o fazes, a prosa poética, as imagens/ sentimentos/ sensações/ emoções que desperta em mim, e a música sempre como pano de fundo...) apercebo-me cada vez mais do quanto pode ser real... e a cada capítulo deixo-me envolver pela história... ou melhor, a história vai-me envolvendo com as suas garras...e sei que já é tarde demais para tentar escapar...(tb não quero!)... é algo que não me deixa indiferente... e é isso q me fascina e procuro em tudo o que leio... Obrigada...

Ad Astra said...

Então o meu objectivo estás muito perto de se concretizar.
Quando acabar de escrever esta história, e já não faltam muitos capítulos, apenas os que faltam são relativamente grandes, eu vou escrever aqui no blog algo sobre mim, e sobre a maneira que eu encaro esta história.

E, principalmente, saberão porque é que a escrevi.

Obrigado eu, Cristina.
Obrigado eu!