Today I learnt many important things. I should be asleep for two hours by know, but I just can’t force myself. I don’t obey anyone, not even myself. Probably this has something to do with this lonely thing that’s only mine. First, I went to the beach alone. Then, at the school, I got those shocked looks by having done it. What’s the big deal in going to the beach alone? I still am my best companion; at least I can’t hide anything from my inner thoughts. Then, a dear schoolmate came to me crying because of her boyfriend. “Men”, we claimed. I always played safe, I realized. They kept telling her disappointments, and I kept saying “I avoided it all”. What’s the reward, may I ask? I’ve always been alone, proudly satisfied with this thing, typically mine, which is: I prefer NOT to make the mistake, so then I won’t have to regret it. The mere thought of performing some regrettable move makes me sick. I keep thinking, planning, hoping for my path to be clean of obstacles, such as guilty conscience, regrets, mistakes I cannot emend. When I read quotes saying: don’t worry about what you’ve done, for you’ll only feel sorry for what you haven’t, I wonder what’s the problem with my conscience, I couldn’t live with it shouting at my hears that I had done something wrong. Could I win by choosing the wrong method? I would be frightened about the consequences, for there would be consequences. But, on the other hand, am I wasting my life? Should I go for it? Whether he was, or not, the love of my life, should I trade autenthicity for company? Should I get on the travel, just to come back to the same place, later, maybe with a new weight on my chest? Forgive me for this will to become ordinary. I wish I was a regular girl, I wish my own mistakes wouldn’t affect me. I wish I wouldn’t care what people think. I wish I wouldn’t care for others and acted based only on my interests. I wish I would shout every time people offended me. I wish I would demand an answer to everything I can’t explain. I wish I was tougher, fearless, consciousness, such as people I watch being happy every day. Is my happiness the compass of waiting? Are there doors to shut? Chapters to finish? Are there so many words to say? I thought it was all said, I have this sort of need growing up in my chest, and I hate myself for not being able to shove it back down my throat. I wish life was easier; I was easier, so I wouldn’t condemn easy life, easy people, easy options, and easy ways. I’m so worried about HOW I’m going to get there, that I don’t see myself arriving in a thousand lives. While this, I see people so worried about GETTING there no matter how, that I see them reaching it in a gasp. Tough, in the end, what really matters? What’s the point in doing things the right way? I wish I could throw myself at it, with open arms and open eyes, and I wouldn’t get hurt once more or, even if I was, I wouldn't regret it. Even if I couldn't forget it easily, society would, society always does. You know, I keep laughing but my inner state is a lot darker by know. I keep putting ifs; I keep wondering where this will get me. And I’m so desperate to arrive… please, let me arrive; receive me with your warm hands and your unique smile. Dance with me, let us prove everyone else that there’s no need for schemes, there’s no need for despair. Today someone asked me: do you longer to live alone, all by yourself, on a place acquired by you? And I said yes, I guess I do. She insisted: but all by yourself? Wouldn’t you like to live with someone? And that’s when I first thought about it: of course I’d prefer living with someone, so I came home with my thoughts submerged in this near future I haven’t seen coming. In one or two years, if the so-called God helps, I’ll be out of this place; I’ll be out to my life. I’ll be climbing mountains all by myself, and yes, of course, I’d like to be with you. So I answered her, gaining conscience of my own loneliness, of my own ignorance about myself:
- If there was such a person, of course I’d prefer being with him.
- If there was such a person, of course I’d prefer being with him.
But it’s just too clear to me that I’m nobody’s person.
«the tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it» unknown
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love.
Just reminded me of something.
19 Maio 2010
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