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An empty feeling,
of a time that goes by and
then evertything happens tempestuously.
Broke and completely alone.
I feel terribly shaken by the stupidest things.
I don't work my talents out.
I want to get out of this trap and run away...
from the town and the state of despair.
I'm tired, have no will to live.
I'll get out of it.
Don't like it here.
I get out with dirty clothes, don't even shave.
I try to talk and understand, but no one even realised
I have a treasure hidden in me.
I hide every watchable way of the world
inside this existencial and rotten armor.
A horse gallops.
***!
I'll drink it all,
smoke it all,
*** it all.
Damn it!
I just need another life.
I'm lost in this lifelace.
Solitude gets me more anxious and unhealthy.
I need to trade thoughts and kisses,
love a perfect body for my genital.
For I'm indestructibly ***.
I'm out...
I'm in...
I want another path that even God or my uneasy spirit can guide me to.
Calm down.
Everyone says calm and pacience.
That you can get there slowly.
But get where?
Everyone just keeps walking around.
Everything goes by without a reason.
Is this what's left for me?
Pills and eletronic stories in the fingerprints
of these video monitors?
What am I doing here?
Where am I going?
I just can't find anything but madness.
A crazy try to discover something more interesting
than my own being,
torn between two worlds.
One near
the other far away.
I'm tired of these doors
of these horrible dead looking windows
of this landscape that cover my fooled happy eyes.
I try to sleep but have no dreams.
Just nightmares that keep me away from my possible trip to another place,
where my wish would be granted.
Oh, I look for the warmest moment of my youth.
When I tought everything big and joyful.
My eyes and my hands could reach, on that map,
the giant turtles of Galapagos.
And as a child, my fantastic dreams
were about distant worlds, distant beings, distant galaxies.
And Galapagos was it all.
For its mythical inhabitants were unique,
part only of that magical realm,
not even close to this empty world of mine.
I'll board the ship with Manuel's flag.
I'll sail guided by the wingless birds
heading back to Galapagos in the summer.
There, I'll meet these beings
that once traveled away, unhappy with their world,
taken away from their dreams,
abandoned, unimportant, mediocre, irrelevant.
I'll meet them.
Be friend of the refugees that lived, for ages
in Galapagos.
- An assay by - Fernando Secco
- Incidental Actor - Voice - Anderson Alves
- Text by - Anderson Alves and Fernando Secco
- Music - Antonin Dvorak
June 2007