Arquivo da categoria ‘In English’

30 days

Publicado: setembro 23, 2014 em Contos, In English

30 days2

“Are you a serial killer?”

“No.”

nng

I wanna go back to the past and stay there

In that enchanted place where actions had never existed

In a time that memories didn’t belong to anyone

Where everything was free of consciousness.

I wanna go back to the past and stay there

With the wind that wouldn’t come back

With the sunlight that had never appeared

With the snowflakes that had never been born.

I wanna go back to the past and stay there

And when the future could turn into present

I wouldn’t know anything

I wouldn’t feel anything

Cause I would have never been there before.

Once the track is dead, my music won’t thrive.

Once my heart is dead, my soul won’t shrive.

Mountains and their perspectives.

Catalonia´s Most Sacred Mountain

Catalonia´s Most Sacred Mountain

To Jake

Publicado: março 15, 2012 em In English

Sometimes the most important people of your life won’t be around, Jake. And you will have to create characters to hold on and say things that no one else would like to say. You will invent sentences and you will share others, but that feeling of emptiness will never go away until you meet them again. One day. In a different land or a different life.

All those important people that you keep inside your heart and that are not here anymore will be in a place that doesn’t really exist. You can pretend to reach them through Dreaming Land, you know? All those people that you wanna hug and laugh with  in  a world of fantasy as if life could be as musical as soundtrack.

We all wanna be strong, and live a life full of best days, I know. But most of the times your path won’t be full of  surprises as many say, but full of quite strange situations.

There will be cigarettes, and beers, and leaks and lots of people running away from themselves.  There will be pages, and music, and people smiling beautifully. There will be plenty of memories. You just have to remember one thing if you forget everything else: keep the important people close, my dear. Keep them close to find your way home. But being close doesn’t mean being around.

Hey, Jake. Be cool, ok? Heart is taking over.

Love,

Mirri.

This is a letter to The Universe and the likes and dislikes about life based on things. Here’s what I have to say:

Dear Universe

Why should I care? If you don’t care, then I don’t care. We’re not going anywhere and I’m in this thing alone. How to leverage what we like. Someone has once said and i confirm “Facebook has trained us well”. You know, when things in real life pass me by I always want to stick “i like”. And what’s the purpose of this? I don’t have a Facebook account anymore, but the addicted habbits are still on me. I’m contaminated. Contaminated by how many tweets i have published. Contaminated by how many videos i have watched on Youtube and the possibilities of being motivated to republish them. Infatuated to have them on my virtual space and to share desperately my likes.

Why? To whom am i doing this? The more we speak the less people listen to us. Pick up your dozen friends and they won’t have noticed your likes on your favorite social network. If you disconnect your account someday one of them will say “You can check this out on my profile” and when you say “I don’t have an account anymore” the person will mourn “Oh”.

People don’t observe people, they just see. They don’t use their perception skills because gossip is on human social status of life, not perception. One day you can have thousands of downloads about your posts and on the other day, zero. Probably not because your talent in whatever-you-are-talented-of disappeared but because your virtual friends forgot to retweet you.

Cell phones, MSNs, virtual chats, Skype, Buzz, LastFm, Myspace.

Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?

I’m waiting for someone (as you once said on your Yahoo Groups) to sit near here and watch the last stars on the sky. They are almost gone.

Love,

The Like-ification girl.

P.S. This one can bring chips. I’ll buy his favorite soda. Stars used to be here all night long.

She opened the drawer looking for socks. They were gone. All of them. The more she searched, the less she found.

All people have vanished in a day where the sky was purple. She was sleeping at the porch with her cat under her barefoot. When she opened her eyes a blending head movement with punching was heard over there.

She first saw the thunders and then the fire, but she didn’t realize that people were consumed. After that, a suddenly winter approached the place as a human being. She opened the drawer looking for socks. They were gone. All of them. The more she searched, the less she found.

Supposed you’d die tonight, what would you say? – her inner voice said.

– I need some socks, she replied.

Death was just a matter of perception and she needed socks to prevent undisclosed desires.

The official bastardly ass off

Publicado: outubro 12, 2010 em In English

1: – It’s a logical thing: between asses and brains, asses always win. It’s a question of survival.

2: – What does it mean? Are you saying if I were in a Prehistoric Period I would die?

1: – Probably.

2: – Probably?

1: – The mists of antiquity.

Red Ramshorn Snail

Publicado: novembro 28, 2008 em In English
# Come out! Come out! I know who you are!Natalie Yoseal was surrounded by ancient stones whose top surfaces were covered by salt. Salty is the symbol of purity and sometimes a way to move away bad spirits. She didn’t realize that all the salt that came from the basement was an option that her grandma has chosen to keep her bad spirits away. And that the place she had chosen to do the ritual was a hole one. Just like the basement.

# Come out! Come out! You’re freaking me out!

She was a little girl wearing a red dress, polyester maybe. A girl who was cleaning all the stones. All the salt down.

# Tell me something about you that we don’t know yet.

Kids from the neighborhood in that decade were suspicious of practicing magic. Good or bad, we don’t know. But tough magic. The one that makes your brain goes in an overdriving. Natalie Yoseal was poking the leaves behind the biggest stone.

# À bout de soufflé.

The noise was not loud. It was just like the noise that we don’t listen when a red ramshorn snail moves itself from one side to the other. Slowly. If her grandma was alive, she would scream and say Stop it right now. But nothing or anyone has ever screamed in that place.

# Gross!

It was when she saw it. It was unpleasant and disgusting, but pretty efficient. We don’t know why kids used to do that. Maybe tedium. Maybe curiosity. Maybe stupidity.

# Do you have problems with calling someone up? Hey, look at me! I’m waiting for you for so many minutes! You can not take so long.

It was just a fling. When her eyes met the creature she was sure that she did the right thing. Maybe stupidity has this effect upon people. Especially the naughty ones.

# Ok then. Do I have a wish to come true?

The creature moved from one side to the other. Natalie smiled. It was the last human movement. The creature strangled her. Slowly. Her wish would come true, yeah, but she wouldn’t be able to see it. She had called a shape shifter. Now he would be able to walk away using her human skin. Not gross anymore nor unpleasant, but a pretty young corpse wearing a gorgeous red dress. A freedom spirit. A spot in the multitude.