4.26.2012

memory and the important things

It was a Thursday, maybe. Or maybe it was a Wednesday.
It was a nice evening, and I had been at university the whole day, drowning in the huge amount of classes I was taking. Ot perhaps I had just been home, cooking, or wasting some time on the internet. No, I think I was studying, or drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Or maybe I was just looking outside the balcony, absorbed in the chilly air of the beginning of December. Or late November.

But that's not quite important.

We would meet at 6pm, by the bridge. Of course I was late, I was always late. Maybe 10 minutes late, but I felt so embarrassed that it could as well have been a whole hour. I didn't know you so well, as you didn't know me very well either. But we had a date -- which was not a "date" date, it was just two persons going out to listen to some potentially nice music in a city where we both felt a bit distant to our daily musical tastes. It was just everything alien. But that was also the important part. That was what made us be there together at that moment. That was exactly what made our tastes and our needs to go to a bar and listen to just any music so important to the extent that we would actually go there together, even though we didn't know each other.

And then, well, it was a little bit past 6pm. I got off the train station in a hurry, because I knew I was late and that you would be there, waiting. And we didn't know each other well, and I was always late, and, then, I thought I would say "sorry" and pretend I was not embarrassed for being late, because that would be very lame. I rushed and there were so many people packing those narrow sidewalks that the very short distance between the station and the spot where you would be waiting became huge.

But, again, that's also not so important.

You must remember well. There was the station, and then a big crossing, with traffic lights. There was a strange fluorescent-white-light-lit book store by the corner. Usually, lots of people would be there waiting to cross. Specially if it was past 6pm, when the youngsters are going out to have fun, get drunk, sing at the karaoke, or indulge in some bad "all you can eat" sort of restaurant. (I would also do that, not getting drunk or singing at the karaoke though).
So, it was that crossing.
There was a bridge, with a narrow sidewalk. There would a Starbucks right after the bridge. And there you would be waiting. Or maybe you would be waiting on the next crossing, before the entrance of the arcade. No, you were waiting by the bridge, in front of the Starbucks.

Still, that's of little relevance here.

The point is that, while I walked, or maybe while I crossed the bridge -- or the traffic lights --; while I approached you, still from far away, I saw you were standing there. You were wearing that grey dress, which, by now, you find too worn out and would probably not wear in such an occasion, were it to take place today. You were there, standing straight, looking ahead, as if drifting in your thoughts. You had your backpack on the floor, in between your legs, and you were leaning against the wall. Maybe you were not leaning against nothing, just standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I'm not so sure. But as I approached you, you slowly turned your head to my direction, waved discreetly that quick-paced wave you sometimes do, and smiled. You caused an intense friendly, loving, almost nestling, feeling in me. That was very strange for me, to feel that way while I was so worried about hurrying without running, while I pretended I was not too embarrassed, but at the same time feeling sorry I was late. That was a very off-rationality sort of thing taking over, undermining my all too rational planned reactions. That was very unexpected, and it made me confused for the one minute (or maybe less, or a bit more) that I took to actually get to you and say "hello, sorry I'm late!". That was pleasantly and fulfillingly good. And, at that moment, I started loving you. Even though I didn't realize, at that moment I foresaw - in a glimpse - that I was, in a way, seeing a very unforeseeable future, right in front of me. And that made me very happy, just the way I am now.



é tanta memória.

4.16.2012

É bom redescobrir o lado de dentro das coisas. Ele está cheio de letras, palavras e sons.
Tarde de segunda-feira. No ar molhado de chuva sob o céu cinzento - é fim de verão onde o verão nunca acaba - o sol amarela as coisas, que me cercam até me engolir.
O mundo, grande feito um planeta inteiro, transborda da minha memória enquanto deixo escapulir os minutos entre as letras do meu teclado.
Abro um guarda-chuva e me deixo banhar pelo sol que esquenta o meu quarto.