Uma sensação de leveza,
de extensão breve e duradoura.

Um arrepio percorre a nuca,
permeia o corpo,
e transborda em um arrepio.

Por uma melodia ou poesia
que ataca e rebate,
tocando a alma,
comovente
emoção elevadora.

Sensação infinita na infinidade.

Oh, se ao menos sempre tivesse sido,
para permanecer aqui, sempre.

Deleite e bem-aventurança, alegria e prazer,
emoção no olhar lacrimoso do coração,
alegria no sorriso da mente.

Se ao menos pudesse permanecer, sempre...
Prazer.

Thrown into a space,
dark, frivolous, and suffocating,
sealed, with air
stale and unrenewable.

With every second that passes,
the feeling of exhaustion
pulses and oppresses,
with contractions of despair.

I despair. In a burst of energy,
I hurl myself against some exit,
invisible, intangible.

Waves and sharp surges
of despair overwhelm me,
flooding my soul—
restless and energetic,
tired and drained.

I seek, restless, to find
some way out of this place.

But stone walls
only echo my scream.

The futility of my attempts
corrodes my hope,
but a tiny crevice
opens in one of the walls,
pierced by the light.

It rekindles what remains,
killing despair -
partially.

Life,
built and driven by dreams,
compelled by needs,
conquered through opportunity,
sustained by dedication,
longed for by desire.

Desire, which drives dreams,
with the folly of burying them
in the present routine
and in superior external decisions.

This partner desire, divided,
by indecision and power,
by wanting and duty:
yields and withers.

Surrendering to destiny and fate,
woven into the horizon,
blind to the present,
credited to the past,
premises of the future,
entangled in possibilities
irreverent to the central,
present, and adjacent conditions:
of life, like metamorphosis,
mutable, unavoidable, and relentless.

Faced with assumptions and
eventualities,
is what’s meant to be, to be?
Perhaps, in the undulations of the search
for the fleeting existence.

Joy, it caught me content,
Hopping, smiling.
Overflowing emotion,
Moved,
Restless,
Thoughtful,
Full,
Happy,
Truly, if only for a moment.
I wish it could last,
And perpetuate itself
Consistently,
Continuously.
But, content with the present,
I hold, marked consistently,
A memory present in the future,
A certain present.

I lose myself in spectral alternatives
Of an uncertain and nonexistent future.
Tormented by inconsistent thoughts,
By inconsistent perspectives
And in the countless possibilities of the horizon.

A feeling that accelerates the chest,
At times paralyzing and tormenting,
Moving in disharmonious rhythms,
Expelling an unmeasured air
From a gasping breath.

I cling to the present
That runs and does not forgive,
Thrives and insists,
Being the only one that resists,
To the past and to the future.

Lost in the peculiarities of the crowd,
Searching for identification,
In the warmth of companionship,
In a hug, in the comfort of a smile,
And in the depth of sharing.

But they remain empty,
Suffocated by loneliness,
Shouting within a space
Without transmission.

By such fleeting people,
Lost among so many options,
Passing like Russian roulette,
In search of the perfect alignment,
Nonexistent.

But, in diving into unpredictable moments,
In the whirlwind of scarce and immortal time,
Is perfection found?

No,
Just a temporary relationship,
Built by the strength of company,
Extended by the strength of love,
Often sustained by the constancy of habit
And continued by the convenience of routine.
Yet, beings so diverse in their "selves"
Change, mold, and transform.

Perhaps that is why the constant struggle
For encounters and mismatches
Is so few and fleeting,
Consumed by the fire of passion,
In search of the consistency and coherence
Of the multifaceted and other being.

So common for its ease,
Like feathers wandering in the afternoon breeze;
So trivial, lacking empathy,
Like humans subjugating nature.

So easy to deny knowledge,
Like fake news carried by the constant breeze;
So common, without understanding,
Like information without discernment.

Lacking empathy;
Respect is disregarded;
The other is excluded;
Vision is closed;
One's own interests are prioritized.

For unfounded beliefs,
Without seeing the facts
That reveal the subjectivity
Of the view of one or of many,
Which, nevertheless, does not define
Wisdom, knowledge, discernment –
So relative, even through reason.

Like cattle in false pens,
They prefer to be guided
Rather than seek and uncover,
To think, test, and define.
Belief, prejudice
Or time?
The misinformation of people is maintained,
Trapped by the interests of certain exclusive groups.

And I, thinking,
Without destination,
Reflecting on myself,
Confused,
Spreading uncertain concepts,
Certain knowledges,
Modified.