sexta-feira, 1 de julho de 2011

Fifteen

I used to think, when I was younger, that when you are fifteen, everything seems to be different, wonderful.

"Wow, you are fifteen!"

Yes, I am. But why everything looks the same? So unfifteen...

Fifteen feels like a received message from someone you don't love. From someone who doesn't love you either. And "wow, you're wishing me happiness? Thanks!", but what it really means? What means to be fifteen? I'm fifteen, but I don't know. Why fifteen must be special? Why all other girls must have a special fifteen when it's not to me? I'm just jealous, cause maybe, when I was younger, people used to say:

"Imagine your fifteen's."

Actually, I think, I broke my own heart, with meaningless words. 

Toi et moi

Aquela mania de idolatrar algo que não entemos, de amar algo que não sabemos o que significa, amar as palavras, as frases, os contextos, nós amamos, sentimos, por que? Não sabemos, nós amamos e ponto. Por um lado não faz sentido, por outro lado, bem continua não fazendo sentido, mas nós amamos mesmo assim.