Dream

Dear Celi,
This morning as my eyes burst open a memory stood in my mind. I always had difficulty recalling my own dreams, and I can't remember all of last night's but I'll tell you what memorie troubled my entire morning.
I was weeping like a baby, well not like a real baby, just crying very hard. And she was in front of me, with a look that I still can't understand. She was not angry, nor disapointed, or even making fun of me. She was looking me in the eye with a smile that brought up my mother's memory as clearly as her picture.
And then all of a sudden she dropped the sentence that is playing repeatedly since this morning.

"If two feelings exist, there's nothing in the world that can..." as for the last word in this sentence she traded it for a small gesture which consisted in the break apart of the thum and the index finger, in a movement so enigmatic as the whole dream. What I know is that I stopped crying and woke up the next second. Can you explain this to me?

Please reply ASAP.
Yours truly,
Shawn

Crime e Castigo

Olá, como tens passado? Da outra vez não te respondi porque me pareceun que não pretendias resposta, mas desta vez mostras-me essa preocupação. Acho que se o teu bom pai cá estivesse hoje nunca te iria castigar por tal coisa. Bem sei que roubar é muito feio mas não nos diziam em crianças que roubar para comer não é mau. Acho que é basicamente o mesmo o que tu fizeste. Às vezes queria ter essa coragem, para roubar assim, o que não podemos comprar. Também relembrei a infância outro dia. Mas encontro nela uma imensa pena de não poder fazer as coisas da mesma maneira. Bem sei que com os direitos da maioridade vemos negados outros pelos novos deveres mas custa tanto não poder refazer asneiras, voltar a cometer erros impensados para ir a correr chorar para o colo da mãe. E o teu castigo? Não sei se será tão pesado, quem sabe não recebes uma recompensa pela ousadia. Não tremas agora na sua presença, é o que te aconselho, porque um ladrão arrependido não tem medo das consequencias do seu crime. E se não te mostrares arrependido a pena pode ser muito mais pesada. Agora sou eu quem peço, que escrevas, e que me contes desse teu castigo, e da juiza que te vai julgar.

Um Abraço,
Celi M.

Sitting on the steps

Suddenly I was this kid again. The smell of my autumn street flying around with the brown leaves. I was sitting in the stairs of our porch while my father lectured me. Talking about responsabilities , and how I should refrain from doing just because I felt like. This was all about Betsy and my little revenge when she turned down my seven-year-old lips. I don't quite remember what was the prank but it was worth a couple of weeks without Tv, and a fine selection of my favorite toys taken away. Just before getting them back, there I were, sitting in the steps that had been my bed, or twisted my ankle. And my always concerned Dad was still giving me this talk about impetuousness, not that I had the faintest idea of what the word standed for. But he was efficient, never again did I do something hot and bothered. Until this day. If my father were here to punish me I reckon I probably wouldn't see the Tv for a year. "Stealing" He might have said waving his head " Never thought you would be capable of such a thing". Back then I would reply that it had been just a kiss, and my father would proceed 'till midnight repeating the word just every step of the way. But today I sit remembering that punishment and wishing the one she's goin' to give me is just as light. If Only I could cry "sorry" 's out until she would forgive me. She wouldn't hear, just like good old dad wouldn't. Why couldn't just follow his advice?
What the hell do you have to do with it? Nothing I know, but you're always the victim of what is exploding inside me. Please don't take away my Tv. Answer back quick!

Yours Faithfully,
Shawn

Letter from Holywood

There was this one time, i was sitting in the couch, by my side was the girl i'd been in love for the past two years with the hapiness i had never felt. We were watching a movie , i fail to remember it's title but i was one of those movies which only needed the eyes out of the whole head. We were both just numb asleep in the confort of each others arms. The blockbuster's box stood in the ground with some popcorn and both our shoes. Little sprinkles of light came from the shutters square informing us of the time of the day.
And at the one point when i look back into the screen, the scenario was crumbling down and a young man stood in mid-air only atached to the edge of the world. And then his master yelled rather desapointed "You were the chosen one" and from my side she repplied "Fuck you!". She stood up grabbed her shoes and carrying them in her hand walked right out of my house, and my life. That's what you get for chosing people.

Your's faithfully,
Shawn