Dia dos Pais.

O pai, que eu tive, eu não tive,
às vezes. às vezes,
abandonei meu pai
Sem me dar conta que eu sou meu pai,
me tornei meu pai,
se ele não tivesse se tornado
meu pai.

Desperdicei a vida com drogas,
com ócio,
com vadiagem
e presimidamente viadagens
defronte
situações que
deveria ter sido como ele:
um pai.

Sim, ele falhou, ele fez merda,
ele nos abandonou,
de certa forma,
mas é meu pai,
é meu pai e
sou seu filho,

cada vez mais e mais
retrato dele sem ser ele,
cada vez mais, absorto em
coisas que deveria estar
fazendo
se fosse como ele.

Se fosse pai.

Não sou pai.
Não serei pai.
Nunca serei pai.

Nunca terei o que ele tinha,
na minha atual idade,
nunca conseguirei realizar
o que ele realizou muito antes de mim.

Sim, tive rancor de meu pai,
tive vergonha de ser seu filho
Mas sou.
Seu filho.
Que lhe deu muito mais vergonha
e muito mais motivo para rancores
contra mim que eu contra ele.

Meu pai....perdoai,
perdoai.


Teu filho inútil
que por preguiça,
por ser idiota,
nunca será,
nunca terá
o que você
em minha idade
construiu.

Sim, grande parte ruiu
por sua culpa?
Só por sua culpa?
Por muito tempo achei que sim,
cada ano que passa, vejo que não.

Pai, perdoai,
Teu filho inútil,
que queimou tanto
dinheiro em droga,
em coisas inúteis e vãs.

que se acovardou,
se recolheu, se escondeu,
perdeu todos amigos,
perdeu quase tudo.

quase se matou
quando sentiu,
pela primeira vez
a dor de uma rejeição,

voce não.

nós te rejeitamos,
te enjeitamos,
você se foi.

Ficamos.

Sem pai.
Pai, perdoai.

Why.

Why
I ask,
why.
Why so many walls
so many doors
trapdoors,
pitfalls,
why.

Why can't you
bear to listen
to simple words,

The simplest,
the truest of
words,

put together in
a
particular
sentence,


I love you.


Why, you keep clinging
to your closed doors,
to your misteries - even if
ther isn't a single one.

Why
you don't
trust me,

the one who feels,
the one who allows
himself to float a bit,
yet you yank my chain
and bring me back to the ground?


Is it fear? Of me?
You'd squash me like a bug,
you'd makemasnhed potatoed out of me,

No, it ain't fear.
at least not that one.
Do you fear to open the closed doors?
Face your past?

Please tell me it isn't why,
this isn't you, you know that,
Why
why why
why
why
why
why why why

Please,
just tell me
why.

Vivo?...

A poem!

Love sucks,

'cos it hurts,

and it hurts,

'cos it sucks.

Whitelisted and the gentle art of making enemies.

Yeah, the outcome of the whole debacle was good - everything has been explained and I 'm forgiven by my "special" friend.

Yet, in the mean time I'd discovered that I now possess an enemy. Well, who doesn't? Not many of us live without acquiring a few.

To quote Sir Winston Churchill, "If you're going through hell, keep going." And my favourite:

Blacklist.

Well, we were - I was, corrected - talking about how there is a first time for everything. I was feeling heartbroken, for the very first time.

Then it all changed when the "very special" friend I was talking about talked to me briefly through Fuckmyfacebook chat - she was denying me access. 

She was blacklisting me.

She told me that she needed "some time alone"  ---- does that sound familiar to anyone , if ever , out there?

I spent the rest of the fucking day trying to figure out what was that I did, for her to blacklist me.

I can't think of anything. I really can't.

You don't blaclist people without a reason. What was mine? What THE FUCK did I do wrong?

I still don't know.

Maybe I'll never know, at all.

I just can't think of anything offensive or idiotic that I did to her.

None. Is there really anything, She-wolf?

I took her friendship for granted. Maybe that was my mistake.

I dunno. All I know is that it changes everything.

Things will never be the same.

Everyone who's ever been blacklisted knows what I'm talking about.

Everyone.

If anyone reads this, yet.

A first time for everything.

It's true.  Fuck me, it's so fucking true.

There IS a first time for everything.

Fucking beautiful. Have you ever felt it? Experienced it?

The feeling of having your heart torn to pieces?

It's...fucking awful. And it fucking hurts, but not like the physical pain.

I'd rather have my fucking arm cut off with a saw, no anesthetic, than to feel this shit.

Suddenly you are with someone, who just leaves you in the dark, "to fight off her own demons by herself," something like that.

To me, it felt like seeing a person gave in and let himself be executed. No help. No, don't help me.

I've died a little today, yesterday, and will suffer during the whole goddamned weekend.

I'm lucky that I've got a shitload of rivotril. Clonazepan. I know that I won't be able to do a damned thing, seeing someone I cared about deliver herself to the darkness.

If you fell down a weel, and suddenly an outstretched arm reached down, what would you do?

Grab it and be free, or...do nothing at all? Deliver yourself to starvation, thist and death?

I'll never get this.

Never, ever.

And I should know, because I did it a lot in the past. Refused to be helped. And now the tables are turned, and I am the third party, observing the suffering.

And unable to do shit to help.

I am ripped apart. Torn to pieces. Hurting like a motherfucker...and yet, we wers so close, so....

"Don't help me. Don't try to help me."

I won't.

But I'll die along.

Every day, every hour.


I am  already dying.


And I don't even know why.