No pó

Quem dera encontrar quem me desse ainda mais vontade de continuar em frente, porque a que tenho às vezes pareçe que não basta...

(Fotografia: Lisboa, Portugal, Setembro de 2007 / Texto: Lisboa, Portugal, 28 de Novembro de 2007)

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Silly little things

Yet… it rains, but in rainfall I sense your half lunatic eyes setting fire to my body from just across the street… 1, 2, 3 ignition! I run fast through the crowd, bumping into every person who happens to be in my way… slipping and falling in the street pavement floating in dirty cold water. And I shout! I cry out loud your name, looking at every direction amongst the crowd, until I sense that burning in my skin again. Until the Demon takes hold of me once more! I turn my head and there you are again, wearing that red skirt, in the black and white world of my imagination! And there I go again running in pursuit, crying out loud your name, slipping, falling, and bumping into strange inhabitants of a lonely, lonely planet… A policeman holds my arm, and makes a gesture to hit me, but I get rid of my coat, struggling to run after you. Then I loose you from sight again, and while I wait with my eyes closed for the Demon to show me the way, I get rid of my shoes… And then, suddenly, it happens again. It’s unleashed once more! My skin burns, my eyes get filled with blood, my tongue aches, and my legs beg me to run… 3, 2, 1 and I run! I run to you, just as if we were the only survivors of a deadly species. And as I run I shout your name in the rain, as I run I don’t care about anyone anymore, as I run I don’t fell the bruises on my feet, as I run all I want is to catch you, as I run all I see is you and what remains of colour in this dark world! I need to get you, throw you to the ground, and make love with you right there in the street before we part again… for my past, my future, everything’s behind me now. I just need to try and tell silly things to you, my Demon.

(Photography: chromatic alteration, 2007 / Text: Lisbon, November 23rd, 2007)

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The moment of defeat

When she came I was half awake. She came slowly from an orange and purple horizon like a cloud of poisonous gas, and I opened my eyes, and I had only time to lie in bed before her hand touched my bare skin. She kissed my foot and slowly rose up to my mouth. She caressed me and then it was the end of my life as I used to live it. I realised I was defeated, and finally awake forever. And I whispered “I love you, I hate you!”.

(Photography: Paris, France, December 2006 / Text: Lisbon, Portugal, November 9th 2007)

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A journey

Maybe I couldn’t do it differently. Have you thought about that? Has it crossed your mind at any moment, even if just for a fraction of time? I’m not saying I didn’t love you. All I’m saying is that it wasn’t enough, apparently, and for that I am truly sorry. But what’s love anyway, if not a way to completely fuck up what’s left of your brain? I always needed new beginnings, and love tends to stick to your skin for long periods. It’s nobody’s fault. The point is that we’re all different from one another.

I had really enchanting moments. Without seeing enough I’ve seen it all. I know how it works – the world has no mysteries anymore. I’ve seen this earth and how it goes. And what I’ve seen is of such great beauty that I’m coming to the point of not being able to take anymore of that drug. What good is beauty if one cannot reach it and feel its warmth? To be aware is not sufficient anymore. I need much more! I need to forget, and so here I am trying my luck, thinking what I shouldn’t think, doing what I shouldn't do. Here we go! And from now on nothing will be the same.

(Photograph: alteration on picture in Spain, April 2007 / Text: Lisbon, Portugal, November 1st, 2007)

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