deserto verde

Queria azul assim, de soltura. Como pensei que seria. Riscando lábios e seiva e saliva. Mas 

Sou seca como terra arrasada por eucalipto. Faço o meu amor morrer de sede.

Eu 

Adubo

Mas apesar de sua fragrância, seu tronco é fantasmagórico 

como os meus limites. Imponentes.

Me preenchem de neblina

Você disse, era de madeira branca o meu rosto. 

Será então que duro mais do que a carne? 

Pior

Sou então apenas marionete? 

Grito 

Sem

Som

generalization

(the art of observation...consists in this: the seeing of great things in little things, the whole in the part - even the infinitesimal part.)

just another fool for the earth to swallow

(The trees have inquisitive eyes, haven't they? -that is, seem as if they had. And the river says,-'Why do ye trouble me with your looks?' And you seem to see numbers of to-morrows just all in a line, the first of them the biggest and clearest, the others getting smaller and smaller as they stand further away; but they all seem very fierce and cruel and as if they said, "I'm coming! Beware of me! Beware of me!")

studies, bitterness

"Well, sometimes I feel I don't want to know anything more about it than I know already."

"Why not?"

"Because what's the use of learning that I am one of a long row only - finding out that there is set down in some old book somebody just like me, and to know that I shall only act her part; making me sad, that's all. The best is not to remember that your nature and your past doings have been just like thousands' and thousand's, and that your coming life and doings'll be like thousand's and thousand's."

"e ce fut tout"

 (Um vazio, um vão entre uma juventude um pouco vil e uma velhice imbecilizada.)

your soul sleeps

(...You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow as that in which your youth has hitherto slid away. Floating on with closed eyes and muffled ears, you neither see the rocks bristling not far off in the bed of the flood, nor hear the breakers boil at their base. But I tell you—and you may mark my words—you will come some day to a craggy pass in the channel, where the whole of life's stream will be broken up into whirl and tumult, foam and noise: either you will be dashed to atoms on crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some master-wave into a calmer current—as I am now.)

aidez-moi

Mais pourquoi j'ai plus de peine que les autres, alors que les autres n'ont aucun problèmes? D'ailleurs est-ce que tout ça, c'est pas d'leur faute, à ces égoïstes au bonheur obscène?

nada

E nas sobras do meu eu

a sombra se estica

tarde noite nada e o nada 

desliza dentro de mim

eu

quieta corruíra a dormir 

assim

sinto assim

tudo foge de mim

"e eu?

como recolheria meus cacos se eles são invisíveis?"

Como disse Charlotte Brönte, "o ódio seria um sentimento caloroso demais" agora sou fria fria fria