are you happy inside your eyes? can't you see your lover fall apart in her silk threads?
in time the hunter will find the trail of blood
i see you alone tonight when will you tear down? love will save you
try not to starve yourself of love
- feed your hunger
is it right, my love, is it right?
it's a question with no reply i am sure of longing to be on the open sea to feel the comfort of the mist upon my cheek
no, i'm not crying
lose me in your memory turn your head
let me become a part of it
let me become a part of it
(...) "
it didn't start that way...
it never does.
a more tender more thoughtful more heartfelt gesture gets my attention, draws me in, makes me feel special, loved, wanted...
and the game begins.
suddenly i am touched by rules i was not explained, that i do not understand, yet somehow invade my whole life and its surroundings.
and i can no longer smile what i feel, i cannot hug too tight, i cannot look deep into their eyes.
the next square to land on is unknown. i place myself on it with all the care and honesty i can, all the fear i hide, all the love i do not know - my hands clenched behind my back..
yet i always seem to mislead myself.
..
i'm in every place all over the place(s) in what i feel.
and i don't know i won't find out what flows around.
where it starts.
where it ends.
if.
what.
when.
and it will always be a hand held (too far) away.
(first image: noose, by cynthia zordich last image: (c) ana nicolau)
when all i touch turns to gold and all i love is out of touch
and i'm forever lost in this labyrinth i created for my own daring.
i don't like it this way.
i don't like it
when i see myself
from the distance
and it feels
dark
and haunted.
..
nothing but shadows
beyond the deafening silence.
nothing
but timeless
ghosts.
.
" every night my dream’s the same. same old city with a different name. men are coming to take me away. i don’t know why but i know i can’t stay.
there’s a weight that’s pressing down. late at night you can hear the sound. even the noise you make when you sleep. can’t swim across a river so deep. they know my name 'cause i told it to them, but they don’t know where and they don’t know when it’s coming,
when it’s coming.
there’s this fear i keep so deep, knew its name since before i could speak: aaaah aaaaaah aaaaah aaaaaah they know my name 'cause i told it to them, but they don’t know where and they don’t know when it’s coming,
when when it’s coming
keep the car running
if some night i don’t come home, please don’t think i’ve left you alone. the same place animals go when they die, you can’t climb across a mountain so high. the same city where i go when i sleep, you can’t swim across a river so deep. they know my name 'cause i told it to them, but they don’t know where and they don’t know when it’s coming,
morning becomes dark and empty as i wake up to the day
to find the scratched hands and words
that have lost you along the way
would you have stayed if i'd dreamt harder?
could you have had another try?
in dreams reality is kind
and pain no more than a sigh
..
today only i will be a child,
with no possible time lapse
no shame or masked fears
- i miss you always beyond this silence
this trail of memories
this blood of tears
...
("day comes up sicker than a cat something's wrong that is that
mr. somewhere missing somewhere never did figure just how much
a boat from the river takes you out 'cross the other side of town, to get out, to get out you take the tide, any tide, any tide like there isn't gonna be any tide
mr. somewhere missing somewhere never did figure just how much missing somewhere never did figure just how much
a world like tomorrow wears things out it's hard enough to get what's yours for now and the hardest words are spoken softly softly look, no hands upon
nr. somewhere missing somewhere never did figure just how much missing somewhere never did figure just how much
now the milkman beats you to the door that was once a home, home no more
mr. somewhere, missing somewhere couldn't get the calendar to stop missing somewhere, never did figure just how much missing somewhere, never will admit just how much ")
. suicide watch is an intensive monitoring process used to ensure that an individual does not commit suicide.
.
..
i was sitting close to her, a seat between us, my hand reaching past it, over her shoulder, cuddling her till where my fingers could reach, wanting almost to go through her skin and reach inside, deep where the voices i could not hear shouted at her, voices no one could imagine, voices that would deafen her speech and mute her hearing; and so the touch, the attempt of the touch, the touch desperate to reach inside, inside until my hands covered the mouth of those unfair and lying voices that pushed that firey-alice into the deepest hole in her, away from everything, from everyone, away from everything that is life in life.
" you see..
i wasn't supposed to be alive by friday......"
she said it in a whisper,
knowing what is certain,
with no path to return.
and i had vertigo of her planned death.
...
she spoke through the crying that torn her breathing apart, as if nothing left inside but the black of all her immense colours, that darkness of sharpened knives and swallowed pills that lingered across years of injustice, hidden love, discouragement.
and i thought i thought that it isn't fair.
the scales becoming more and more uneven everyday without us knowing, without us knowing the weight of every hour.
the weight of not recognizing oneself.
of losing everything one is.
so tempting, just letting go.....
before my eyes she fell, and i knew she fell with her eyes closed, clenched as fists, and thus let herself go, not speaking to anyone, not even looking at us anymore, nothing of her but that little girl's body abandoned by herself and that quiet, chocking, painful cry, that contaminated my blood with sadness and anger.
unthinkable not to hold the hands of one who carries in them their own present and raise them until they see, know, feel everything that is, can be, always, everyday, every minute, still, always, life.
i wanted to shake her and say stop, stop the voices, stop everything that's tormenting you, dive out of yourself if you need to because we'll catch you, we will catch you, just don't go. not like this. not before so much of you.
but she was just a little girl, curled up in herself, tiny tiny, tiny with fear and so grown up with pain...
scared to break her, almost... as if a bird with broken wings.
with nowhere to fly to.
but, still, each moment...
the healing.
every single little moment...
now.
in the quietness of the night, she slept as one who surrenders to the rest of the arms of a home, a friend, a shelter.
in the tender light of day she held my hand and took me through her labyrinth of trees, all tangled in rusty knots of dark memories and flowers left to die by their own negligence, and through the mist of fear i could see she looked this way. at us. inside. from the distance. she looked.
and we had to make her see.
so we told her of the lights that brighten the day, the candles that go out so that it can come, the night that rests, tranquilizes, pacifies...
" Everything chains me to the land I gave myself in: the suddenly teenager river, the light tripping on the corners, the sands where I impatiently burnt.
Everything chains me with the same sad love that is knowing life doesn't last long, and in it I put hope and the warmth of some fingers with remains of tenderness.
They say there are other skies and other moons and other eyes deep with joy, but I belong to these houses, these streets, this love dripping melancholy. "
(eugénio de andrade, canção breve)
...
i see the way.
i know it complete, and i know where it leads.
to which sea of land and people of my own.
fear of shame?
shame of fear?
the same cold shiver going into the sea - my whole life in suspended desire for the awaited time of this dive of me.
more than queens and princes i bring in my suitcase the fairies that know my wings in certainty, dignity of just being.
i am all those i buried, all those that were born inside - tattooed seeds of constant change of tide.
.
i hear (myself) in the wind.
as if mine the name that someone.
as if calling dream to a life that no one else no one else has.
...
right now,
faraway and close,
i try humbleness:
i live.
.
(first picture: ana nicolau, selfportrait2007 second picture: eduardo gageiro third picture: haleh bryan, dani-blue)
