quarta-feira, 23 de junho de 2010
To Mum ´s XXXX
Eu, como não consigo escrever assim , apenas coloco as imagens de escadotes já que Tu XXXX és muito alta e eu muito baixa e só desta maneira conseguirei dar-te um abraço quentinho e um beijo.
Lindíssimo texto de "ódio".
Ok, so you want frankness, do you?
Let me then tell you how much I hate you. No, not figuratively, but plain full good old hatred. Why on earth? Yes, you may ask, and I’ll gladly explain why.
You suffer from cancer, I, at least as far as I know, don’t.
I’ll call myself, for argument’s sake, “healthy”, even if my body has “Carter-Rucked” me and is libeling millions out of me due to misuse and misconduct of allocated human body. So I’m healthy and you’re not.
You’re going to die, but so am I. Your life expectancy has been diminished, in a cruel unjust manner, but there’s nothing that says that you won’t outlive me. I may drop dead before finishing writing this. I hope not, but there’s nothing that guarantees me that I won’t.
Yes, you’ve lost quality of physical life, no question about that. And what you have had to endure physically is beyond my worst nightmares, and I so much honor and admire your fighting will. It was, is, and will be an example to us all, both healthy or not. For that I, on behalf of all, thank you, but I still hate you, from the darkest pit f my heart.
Yes, you’ve gained quality of spiritual life. You’re able to smell a flower, like my nose will never be able to. The sunshine has to you a multitude of colours that my eyes will never be able to see. You hear sounds from birds that I’m unable to, like secrets between you and them that I’m left out of. You feel the heat of a hand, or the softness of a caress like I can’t, as I, unlike you, take all for granted. You’re able to feel the warmth of friendship like none of us “healthies” will ever be able to understand. I do have my little vengeance though, as I can taste alcohol and you can’t, But that is too little compensation for what you can do and I can’t. Oh, how I hate you.
Would I change places with you? No, I wouldn’t. That would be a stupid, disrespectful thing to say, a distasteful enormity. You suffer from something that I’m terrified about. All the things I just described that you’re able to do that I can’t, don’t even begin to compensate, from where I stand, the suffering that has been imposed on you, both psychologically and physically.
So you should have my utmost sympathy. You do. You also have my compassion and understanding. But you also have my hatred.
So why do I hate you? Let me tell you why.
You see, you have something against which you can direct your anger, your frustration, and your hatred: Cancer. He’s the reason you’re suffering. He’s evil, loathsome and cruel. You can insult him with all the humanly wicked possible imagination and all offenses will fit the target adequately.
Now look at me. I suffer with your suffering. You know exactly what you’re suffering, and I can only imagine. And one does rarely imagine anything correctly, does one? You’re the centre of my suffering but I cannot insult you, because you’re guiltless, faultless and I love you. See how much I hate you?
Every time you’re silent I worry, imagining you’re suffering, when I hear from you, I worry, trying to find in your words any clue to your suffering that you’re trying to hide from me. If you sit, I worry; if you stand I worry too. I’m even worried because you’re worried about me being worried. And on who or what can I vent all my anguish? On a friend like you? Not a chance.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Distorting the words of a friend I hold so much dearly: “… it is like walking on egg shells, you have to be brave and strong, show how well you are coping with your coping and ‘Battling’. Those suffering the disease must never know the desperation inside, if they for one moment think you have ‘thrown in the towel’ they, your strongest supporter, will collapse…it is you that keeps them strong by being so’ brave’.
Well I have news, I am not brave, I am not strong, I am sick of it, sick of the heart in mouth when I see you go for the check ups and to see if your ‘markers’ are stable.”
Do I expect you to be brave and strong? Don’t be silly. Do I expect me to be brave and strong in helping you, you bet! Are we both brave and strong? Who cares, just as long we keep doing the best we can. That’s all either has to expect from the other.
Are you burden? Let me put it this way, with all the hatred I have for you, I’ve learned to overcome it, and welcome all the “pain” you’ve meant to me. Your friendship literally obliterates all the pain that YOUR misfortune has caused me. So, call me masochist if you must, but get that through your thick skull that I’ll GLADLY suffer the double, the triple or the whatever of what I’ve suffered up to now, just to know that you know that I’m here for you. No sacrifice, simply the pure pleasure of being. Isn’t that what friends are for? Not to give, nor receive, just to be.
But I still hate you, let that be clear.
I’ve explained the why, I hope, now let me explain how much.
If you dare leave this life before me, my hatred for you is such that I’ll live the rest of my days in most good, kind, and sinless manner possible just so that I can get into Heaven. And on the day I’ll arrive there, the first thing I’ll do is kick your butt off your angel wings. That’s how much I hate you.
Hope I was frank enough.
PS I’m neither horrified nor think that you’re ungrateful.
XXXX: "You guys…..are obviously not going to let me fall apart….I have only one thing to say and you know by now I place my emotions with songs."