quarta-feira, 10 de junho de 2009

Cindy’s fairytale

Am I scaring you with my incoherent fingers? When they try to touch you and you turn into a ghost, do they feel like fire? ‘Cause that’s it, I want to burn you. You don’t understand now but these idle fingers of mine are the proof of solitude. Their numb state of nonsensical meaning make me unable to see my fingerprints. So where is my identity? I should go.

Once upon a time they told me there was no path for a banned princess. I do not live a fairytale. There was that dream, it lived inside my nerves and became tough, like ice. I knew that ice is breakable like kings are deposed. Then I put my hair over my face, my face drowning, didn’t know where I was going. I warned the kingdom: “Cindy will look for her soul”. She has walked half way by now.

She is tired; she was born a frog girl. Her animal instinct made her survive. It would always send her hope enough, the smallest amount of hope a being needs to live for. She waited for the best thing that always comes, to come for her. A well respected man met her gaze, but he avoided her, she was dirty somehow. He shivered when he saw the thing. The thing her heart was hiding. She was hiding from the world, because she wanted to be the world’s best friend. Then she went on, defeated by all the luck her friend had given her. It seemed like a hopeless princess on a hopeless street. But it was not. They worshiped her by fear, she existed although she shouldn’t.

Dark nights came, when either moon or Cindy would exist for no reason. Waiting for the next best thing, everyday waiting. Life is sweet for Cinderella and for the dragon as well. For the people who read it is not. But I must mention that I owe the dragon my strength. On foot, naked soul walked in no direction. Each day lying to herself, waiting and feeling that nothing would come. The dissimulate Cindy started to hope for nothing, willing for no thing to come. Truth never hurts people who have a precious bleak heart like hers.

In a village, state of nowhere, she was arriving. Maybe the peace was getting closer, enough to touch? Enough to slap me? It is just a ghost that I can never reach. But I see it, it is real. The numbness of her fingers overtakes her body. She falls asleep. In her dreams sleeping Cindy feels deceived because they took her conscious. Eventually she has gone carrying empty pockets, nothing is worth such a walk. Perhaps she has found peace, here there is nothing else to be done.

I linger, I stay awake.