The digital clock on the corner table marks 11:11. Venus ends it's retrograde motion in Cancer and moves through Leo. Aquarius is contemplated with a beautiful full moon. The hanged man arcana is followed by the world arcana. Osun aswers my questions to her oracle. The number of my new house shows me a bright future in there. I wonder why I've become such an esoteric person. My natal map doesn't presents my spirituality as a strong feature of my personality. Then, why? I am the son of a highly sensitive orisha, but maybe I'm fooling myself using faith as a escape valve to a brutal reality I'm blind to. One thing I know for sure, this is where I take my hope from, knowing that the planets are moving and all the bad things are sooner or later going to end. It also gives me courage, knowing I can do more than I expect because the african deities may be giving me strenght. In the end, it doesn't matter if I'm trapped in a superstitious hallucination, this is what's keeping me moving, this is what gives me faith in the future and makes me learn with the past errors. It surely does more good than harm, so why would I care?
I need a solid answer from you. You know, like a list or something. A list of reasons why you don't want to be with me. A list of reasons why you think we're not made for each other. A list of reasons why you think it'll be a waste of time for us to go on dinner dates.
Give me a freaking list, woman. And end this silence once and for all. It's killing me. It's like I'm half way through a story and the rest of the pages have been torn away. I still know the ending, though - the last page is still there, intact in front of my eyes. I read it and I know we're not going to die in each others' arms as I would want it to happen. I know it.
I just want to hear you say it. I just want to know why. I want to know what you think about this whole mess. Or if you think about it at all.
So yeah, give me a list.
I remember afternoons on the cliffs, taking long drags off cigarettes, whispering into the wind as it whipped our hair across our cheeks. I remember these small, tragically beautiful moments, our desperate attempts at romanticizing our own sadness. How else could we have passed the time and still survived? We were a snapshot in time, stuck in our sadness in the past. We've grown since then to be so much more than that, but there's something strangely special about those moments. Something about it that's burned into my memory, the smell of smoke mixing with the salty sea air. Kelp rotting away on the shore below us, like a sick metaphor for what we were doing to ourselves. The wet tips of my canvas shoes from carelessly stepping through puddles, and the familiar feeling of cold feet.
Hoje à noite a Terra deve girar. Hoje à noite as estrelas hão de cintilar, em seu brilho longínquo. Hoje à noite, quem sabe, a Lua faça uma visita, se preparando para o grande evento do próximo domingo. Neste dia, para algumas formas conscientes de sua existência, ela entrará na frente de um deus perpétuo para eles. A Lua se colocará entre a casa dessas formas e sua fonte inesgotável de energia, de vida...
Mas, hoje à noite, quem sabe, a Lua faça uma visita, mas sem nem olhar para essas formas. Ela estará Nova, olhando para o grande deus brilhante e explosivo, inalcançável.
I feel myself falling in love with you. Melting into a sweet familiarity. You're the only person that I've ever been able to talk to this way. The only one I could ever talk to for five hours at a time multiple nights out of the week and not run out of things to say. You've told me your stories, with a kind of timidness in your voice I wouldn't have expected. You let the details slip out as you add polite disclaimers, hoping I won't think any less of you for your mistakes. I find myself falling further especially in those moments that make you fear a sudden halt. I find myself dreaming of your arms wrapped around me, and remembering the way my face feels pressed into your neck. I catch myself missing you at all hours of the day. And that's how I know that I love you.