Thousand

Realizing that the world is here.

Because every time I have a different wish. Have I already said about the ribbons?
And my sang comes, that same music always:
"Tire seu sorriso do caminho, que eu quero passar com a minha dor."
There isn't so much pain as it says, but so many smiles. Smiles from the past present and even future.
I have already played and sang the melody with so many ways that I discover each time a world of possibilities, of ways, of selves.
And then I come to the old story that a human being is all human beings. The same human that is in me, is in the beggar on the street who I meet every day wishing her a good morning. Her "good morning" is better than mine, it happens because she found something that I don't find. And I confess that many people in my routine also don't find that.
I want to be a thousand. I want to be just one. For a while, I am just the murmur of people passing on the streets, I'm one that passes, the doorman, a neighbor, a beggar. I am them and they, a piece of me.

Recreating

What am I doing?
I look and see, and I re-invente me: with other attitudes, personality, decisions. As if every moment I could be new, not something that I can be. But that I can plane.
I see the paths in front of me, I see the traces left by the time that I'll make. And these traces go behind the paths and cross thenselves randomly, like ribboms of a gymnast.
Colored in time. In space.
This seems very real to me although I know that is not a little. Why?
It sounds so simple. "Go there and live." So simple that no one in the world understands the meaning of the facts, why living, living, and then, dust. Obviously there is something beyond, or not?
The murmur of the gods. Something that makes us open our eyes for intantes, and makes us alive. However, the time, the boredom of humans, makes us used with the fact of living, simply because everyone in the corner cans. Capitalism doesn't value.
So I stop and ask myself, what I'm doing. And I realize that I have felt into the trap of time, life was already so common that it lost its way.
I continue to rebuild, so I will find something that remakes me and get me out of this trap. Exist. Not in the dry sense of the word. Be completed at everytime. Only this works.

Performed

Need.

This is the correct word. Sometimes I get myself forgetting the words such as bifurcation. Which is a good word for the moment.
This is a way to liberate me from something that wants to happen.
I cannot yet identify.
I know it will happen, and I don't wanna feel this for a long time.
If someone ordered you, would you run toward a wall until you hit it?
I would run. I would beat it, but not hurt me.
Some moments it seems that the power is mine, and other moments the power is yours, as captain planet said .
I see things happen and don't do anything, and nobody does something. That's really freaked me out.
What I am trying to be? I know it is something that is not possible.
For a second I do a zoom out, and I see the whole earth and me so small here. It is quite strange. I can not think about it. I go mad.

Nice to meet you. This is me.
I'm sorry about the excess of flowing thoughts, it's a small demonstration of what is comming, and it's the best way to introduce myself.

See you soon!