sexta-feira, 16 de novembro de 2007

For my grasshopper...


There's a lack of something.
Night is just a sign of love. Everybody is together and this is the most important thing at the moment. People, souls, life, feelings, pain. It’s a mix of everything. Poetry guides us. Wine just let us live. Movies, laugh, drinking, smoke, love, passion, dream... everything and everybody is here. Everybody is crazy. Everybody is saying nice words. Everybody danced, everybody listened to the Little Epiphanies ...I remember just a way that is far from here at the moment. I get worried and I pray for the angels to guide the dark souls. That two lovely, crazy... dark and poetic souls.
There is a soul that I miss tonight. This soul is everybody’s souls. It’s part of us. This soul is just spreading poetry everywhere. Probably writing drafts in a dirty bus or just drinking a bottle of the cheapest wine. It doesn’t matter what is going on…it’s just going on and I think of this lost and the great soul. I say that you should be here but you aren’t. You’re just seeking for the deepest part of life…looking for roots, leaves, roses, night, poetry, light, darkness.
Night is just a beginning of a thought…it’s just to remember of a valuable jewel, a friend… my grasshopper... wherever you are now.

E. Alvarez

3 comentários:

Alice disse...

There's a lack of everything in some moments.

"This soul is everybody’s souls."

(Eveline)

A alma de quem escreve é cheia de todas as almas. Por isso, escritores são únicos e sofrem da maldição de sentir tudo.

Clarissa Marinho disse...

Muito bonito!Os sensiveis sentem realmente mais que todos os outros.Não posso me irmanar a vc porque não sou escritora,mas sensibilidade tenho muita!hehe

Anna Valeska disse...

Tudo certo já que eu entendi tudinho né?? Nem com Google Talk funcionou.
kkkkkkkkk!
Bom, tmb tô ce casinha nova aqui no blogspot. Qdo quiser, passa lá.
Beijo!!