segunda-feira, janeiro 26, 2009

the old house


Here I am again.
Passed by to see if there is something new. I guess not.
I guess you haven't been here for a while either. From my point of view everything looks exactly the way I left it when I decided to walk pass that door. You were already gone for a while then. I guess you never came back to check our old house.

I passed by by chance. I always do that when I move from one city to another. It has turned into a kind of tradition that I am afraid of letting go. I'm not brave enough to give me the chance to forget how it looks like... the sun always shines on its back and there's quiet in it, don't you think? Despite the sad stories its walls whisper in my ears I always feel a kind of safe in here. Deep inside I know that anything else could hurt me more than this old house does. Somehow conforting....

I heard you're doing fine. I wish I could be happy to hear that. I pretend I am, it might help me to believe in my own lies. I admire the calm with which you closed the door, you closed it as softly as you would lay your head to sleep next to mine. I guess I admire that.
I heard you're moving in. I admire that as well: that easiness of transferring dreams from one point to the other. I guess I could try to admire that as well... my dreams lay here on the green fresh grass in front of the porch of our old house. That might the reason why I come here so often to visit them, to touch them, to feel them. Once I wanted to take them with me to a new town but they are stuck to the ground so I come here to see them. I don't want them to feel left behind... They still belong to me in the same way this house belongs to me as well.
I heard you're doing fine... so I don't believe you care much about your own part of the house. Don't worry I can watch for it when I come here for my dreams.





I might be leaving now. Left you a note on the front door in case you do come back... I don't wish to you the same feeling of loneliness I get every time I am caught by the sun that shines on the back of our own old house.


I don't wish it to you.
I don't wish it to anybody.



foto extraída de: http://www.flickr.com/photos/imable/3149748407/

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