| The evanescent last note |
[Jun. 13th, 2009|03:03 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | death, life, pet, wonder | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  gloomy | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Beethoven ~ Moonlight Sonata | ] |
Today I woke up to the doorbell ringing. I heard the hurried steps of my father going down the stairs. After a few moments, I heard the tense steps coming back up. Knocks on my sister's door and says - 'Lita died'. I stood up and rushed to my door, maybe I hadn't heard it right. I saw my mom sitting up on her bed and I knew I hadn't misheard anything. Her face and position made me certain.
Lita was my mom's cat. We bought her in 1997, when I was still 8 years old, going on 9. Today, Saturday 13, June, 2009, she sadly passed away. 12 years later, we said our last goodbyes to our dear Lita. My mom loved her terribly, even when Lita grumbled as she passed through the kitchen. Out of our nearly 20 cats, Lita was the one love she held above others.
She was ran over by our neighbor. It was raining all night and part of the morning. I guess that made the brakes take longer to react. My sister and father went to check her out. While they were away, half of me hoped it wasn't Lita. But the other half took over, letting me know I would not feel any more relieved if it was an anonymous cat who had suffered the blow. It had happened, I didn't care who with. It had been tragic, whether it had been with Lita or anyone else. And as they came back, they reassured me - it had been Lita after all. She didn't show any damage, probably killed at the first blow. One of those things that should make you feel better, but don't.
When things like this happen, the rest of the world seems irrelevant. The news seems distant and numb. The multiple deaths seem less. The world seems to rotate at a wrong axis. Time is awkward. People don't matter. The mortality of everything around you makes no sense. Nothing is what it seems, until you change your eyesight.
I see the cat's she's birthed. This is just any other day for them. They don't even know their mother has gone. I wonder if they will notice. I wonder what their reaction would be if I could tell them. Life goes on. Others are still living. People on TV are still presenting. Cars are still running, kids are still laughing, stores are still selling, people are still walking, trees are still growing, insects are still killing. But not for her. I wonder what she's feeling right now. I wonder if she's seeing any wonders. What I can do is just that - wonder.
The longest of lives is still ephemeral. It never ends perfectly like the last note of a sonata. The feeling it leaves is of an imperfect ending that came too soon and left no lead for the following act. The last note vanished quicker than you could perceive it. |
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| It's coming back to me |
[Apr. 29th, 2009|10:53 pm] |
It's been so long. I think I might have lost my touch. Maybe lost my sight. Or, more likely, my time. But enough of that.
The music... the dark blue wavy feeling coming out of my earphones, taking me back to 1991... I have never heard this before, and never lived through it, yet my sinesthesia makes my brain act in ways I can't really explain... the colors I see are unseeable, the feelings I feel are nonexistent, the mix of my senses takes me higher, makes me float, gives me memories of a life I have never lived, of a time I have never seen, of people I have never met... but, yet, I can't explain why, how or what makes me feel this way. Every note gives me a new high, every movement makes my vision swirl, every stomp makes my body jump - even though I have not moved an inch. When it stops!.... (back to the beginning)
I am suddenly covered with this navy blue, misty cloth. I am still floating. But now I am still. It's like I'm in a galaxy, overseeing the Earth. Things are swaying around me, weightless, with no destiny nor hurry. And the stomps begin again. Something big must be drawing nearer, the atmosphere has changed to orange. My feeling of plenitude has just been broken by the tension. My heart is starting to race as I try to understand where the heated color is coming from. I'm having trouble breathing, but it's not something to be worried about. And now, everything turns green. I'm still outside the Earth, but everything is evergreen, like an endless field. I don't understand how this is possible, but I'm here. The field grows, but it changes. I am not in space anymore, I am in a savanna. Running. The sun is setting, the green mixes with orange. It's getting darker, it's now deep purple. I keep running. Running away, I'm being followed. Dark people following me, snaring their drums, lifting their arms, dancing to their rhythms. The tension rises again, fear grows bigger and stronger and the end isn't anywhere near. I do not know what this scenery is about, why I am running, why am I being followed. I want my galaxy back.
And suddenly, I hear them. The stars are shining. One by one, they shine. But they're slowing down... I am slowing down... They are reaching closer... As they jump onto their victim, it feels as if my eyesight zooms out of the terrible scene. The starlight is the only light they see and it is bright enough to see what they do. Yet now... Now I'm back in the sky. The victim isn't me anymore... I have transcended. And suddenly... it ends. What I heard in the beginning is now coming back. But it's another feeling. It's like I woke up from an afternoon nap. Everything I saw? Was it all a dream? TV is still on, cars are still moving, trucks are still loading. And the blue is coming back, my eyesight crossing over my hearing. It wasn't such a dream, after all. Slow... Slow motion... Inside a tube. Dark, yet white. Strangely enough, now it's the future. It's not 1991, like it was back then. It's the saddest future... it's a cold, light grey future... A slow, misty future... It's so distant. I don't want to feel it any longer. The voice carries on. It's desperation. Nothing was won. Galaxy feeling returns. But the voice destroys what I see. It's a white wall. Behind thick glass. The projected image turns off... It is all white now... it is the end.
The silence... is scaring me. It has closed my sinesthetic eyes and now I see reality. I'm in the middle of all these colors. My earphones muffle reality. I don't want to move... if I move, I shall break the spell the music threw on me. I'm... alone. Those distant voices do not reach me. I do not want them to. But this moment must end. It is time I come back to reality. Earphones off.... now. |
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| Estrelas |
[Apr. 25th, 2007|06:02 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | estrela, luz, solitária | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  pensive | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Explosions in the Sky ~ The Only Moment we were Alone | ] |
Enquanto a noite caia sobre o dia e a luz desaparecia, um único foco de luz brilhava mais intensamente. O sol ia perdendo sua força visual e o céu se tornava um prisma de aquarela, variando entre o azul que sobrou do dia e o verde que se mesclava com o laranja. As nuvens não queriam ser deixadas pra fora dessa tela; elas se extenderam pela imagem borrada do que tinha acabado de ser a realidade clara. E aquele pequeno foco brilhava cada vez mais.
Um avião, foi o que pensei de início. Tão parado, um helicóptero. Sem barulhos e tão solitário. Não pode ser uma estrela, pois elas não apareceram ainda. Sem contar com o brilho artificial que apaga a beleza natural. Mas aquilo não faz parte do artificial. No final de contas, aquela luzinha solitária é uma estrela solitária. Brilhando intensamente, suficiente para substituir um céu inteiro de estrelas. Fazendo o trabalho de milhões sozinha.
Mas ao descer o olhar, percebe-se que ninguém nota o esforço multiplicado. Linhas foscas mexendo-se rápido, em um movimento quase aleatório e caótico. Linhas muito mais brilhantes, em movimentos mais duros e caóticos ainda. Se a estrela tivesse um som, ele também seria abafado. Se tivesse cheiro, estaria poluído. Afinal de contas, para que perceber mais uma luz temporária enquanto existem bilhões de outras cujo poder visual é maior e opcional?
Apenas aqueles poucos que param e observam a vida lenta fora de seus ângulos retos conseguem entender a importância de uma estrela solitária. Apenas aqueles que param para respirar de vez em quando e se lembram que nem tudo é como se percebe atualmente. |
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| You're so new |
[Mar. 28th, 2007|04:29 pm] |
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Thinking of something to write. A million things to write about, nothing to implicitly say. Everything is new, the experiences have yet to gain a reprise. Nothing is as hard as the psyche foresaw, nor as lonely as the heart crushed to believe. And there is something crushing the heart, making it's feelings oscillate between one extreme to the other. Sometimes lonely, sometimes not. Overall, it's joyous. Nothing out of the ordinary to complain about |
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| memories |
[Feb. 5th, 2007|07:36 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | It's Natural to be Afraid ~ Explosions in the Sky | ] |
Messing through my room, I open my memory drawer. It is nothing more than a drawer where I keep tiny pieces of my past. I couldn't remember how much of my life I had in there. From a telegram I received in 1997, to a stone I found in Glastonbury, to a wrapper I was given in 2001. Memories flooded my room; letters I received from people I don't talk to anymore, letters I received from an older sister (also a neighbor) I talk to more and more each day, a letter I received from a friend who feels ignored but whom I love. Internet bills from when I was on a cruise (nerd). Papers, emails, candy boxes, first aid guides. Inside of me, I cried. Such little things that reminded me of moments I would have completely forgotten had I not saved them in an inanimate object with no apparent use. Saved for years and years, while I never really knew how effective they would be in the future. It had been so long since I had looked at that drawer and now that I have, I've been captured in the past for so long. I'm supposed to be packing for my future, but I have interrupted myself to think of the past.
I have to admit, I shall miss all that has happened, I shall miss a lot of what I am leaving behind and I shall especially miss all those who have let me fly away. The tears are starting to fight along with the crucial moment of this song. My feelings have been concentrated and I cannot remember such a pure feeling of love in me for so long. |
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| Survival of the fittest |
[Jan. 18th, 2007|12:19 pm] |
As I sat by my window, I heard the familiar buzzing of a pair of tiny wings fluttering right in. As soon as it entered, maybe noticing this was not meant to happen, the buzzing went back to the window. It could not find the slit it had entered, and kept on banging against the glass desperate to leave. Hearing all this commotion, a neighbouring spider ran across the window towards this buzzing wasp. It wasn't on the intent of helping it, or of showing it the way. As soon as that spider reached that wasp, all I could see was a pair of its tiny legs moving around the wasp, while the wasp would desperately fight back trying to leave. The spider, although smaller than the wasp, stood in its place, avoiding attacks from the latter and still moving its front legs as a conductor. Soon enough the wasp started losing its magnitude, began to shrink and become stiffer while he noticed the fate he had faced as soon as he entered that window. The buzzing was now nonexistent, as the wings had been carefully wrapped together with the rest of its body. The wasp would not give in, although unable to move, and kept fighting, trying to rip the strong fibers that glued around it. He would wiggle uselessly and desperately, but the spider would not let go. It kept conducting its imaginary orchestra. Now the spider was turning what once was a wasp around with another of its pair, while still conducting with the first pair. It stopped. The wasp, on the other hand, still wiggled about. I felt, as the spider looked at it cooly, that this was the final blow. Less than a second passed after the spider ceased all motion and threw its body onto the mummified wasp to finally sting it. This caused even more commotion, as the wasp started kicking about more desperate than ever, now that it knew it would not survive. A final struggle asking for a miracle, a plea for mercy and a numbing stop. The wrinkling of its body was the only thing that moved for what felt like five minutes as I stared down at what once was a living being beside me. The spider stared along with me. Its stare to make sure the duty had been fulfilled and finished off. When certainty of the end overcame it, it conducted some more and walked back to the corner it came from. The corpse of the wasp following insignificantly after its stride, looking like a trunk some traveller had carelessly put together to run away. And then it was all over. Peace and quiet lay back around the window now that this murder had finally been committed, right under my eyes. The birds outside still chirped as if nothing had happened, the clock ticked never-ending time away, the wind blew careless air into the window. The day was as normal as ever, it seemed to remain unknown that another of this world's inhabitants had been killed with such lack of care. Such an animalistic act, so common around my oblivious eyes.
Two days later, as I returned to the same place I had witnessed the murder, I noticed a carcass thrown under the window. The remains of the wasp, useless and unimportant. |
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| My only friend, the end |
[Dec. 31st, 2006|02:10 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | new year | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | analytical | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | My Chemical Romance ~ Disenchanted | ] |
This is the day were no one stays in. The day carries on until morning next year. No one wants to miss a second of the last day, even though the chance of not remembering such a terminal moment is elevated. Everything about today is final - the last time you wake up this year, the last time you listen to such music this year, the last peanut you eat this year. The sky explodes in a million colors, the crowd is a monotone of the visible light spectrum and no moment in your life will be so overrated as the night when the year increases. Everyone celebrates the end, everyone celebrates the beginning, no one is quite sure what they are celebrating. They simply are. Happiness, high stakes, increased danger. Yet another year gone by. This is the day when you look back and see if it was all worth it. How much changed, how much better or worse it all is, how much still needs changing. Have you grown mature? Have you grown stiff? Have you grown cold? Have you grown at all? Depressing thoughts for most of the world. All those new year resolutions that you never remembered again, being repeated this year now that you are certain you shall commit to them, the same way you were certain all the other years. But this time it shall be different, you promise. This year will be different. Nothing better than a new beginning to make you delusional and hopelessly hopeful that it shall change. Positive thoughts flood around the energy levels of the world. Who would have guessed that one night could change people's spirits so much? And when the sun rises it will all be over. The tidal wave has retreated, leaving a feeling of calm, emptiness and rebirth to those left standing. 8760 hours go by so quickly, even though they felt so dragging while you lived them. And all those thoughts change. Everything about today is initial - the first time you wake up this year, the first time you listen to such music this year, the first peanut you eat this year. Everything changes in a blink of an eye, or what felt like a blink. |
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| Ta-da! |
[Dec. 31st, 2006|01:05 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  calm | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Cherry Poppin' Daddies ~ Ding-Dong Daddy of the D-Car Line | ] |
Made my layout pretty and I'm ready to rumble. I just don't know what language I'm gonna post in more frequently. |
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| Inauguration |
[Dec. 30th, 2006|10:23 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Snow Patrol ~ You are all that I have | ] |
Now all I need is to understand how this works. |
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