Joana. Of course, he's always been here inside me... I just never looked closer. He is everything that I'd want to be... he does things I'd never have the courage to do. But lately, he feels sad and lonely... and he keeps staring at the sky... staring at the void... nothingness strikes him badly. He is always drawn by the wind and the way it makes the trees talk with him... he likes it when the clouds are low and he can feel the enormity of this world and its simultaneous smallness, when compared the infinity of this universe. He hardly has expressions... he doesn't talk... there's never a frown nor a smile... his eyes usually say what he's feeling. His hands are also a good way for him to express himself. He likes it when the seemingly irrelevant sounds of the day suddenly make him stop and ponder... longing for something...
He also likes to think of you and to try finding a way to make you feel better... but he always fails at that, because he's a part of me, after all... I'm his only flaw.
Joana. So he hadn't been feeling particularly well lately
And occasionally I'd seen him quite sick
But I didn't bother myself with such minor problems
Insisting on the tasks, schedules,
Work, work, work
He was dying slowly yesterday morning
And I could see that in every wall I'd pass by
In every pavement
His dying image
And his arm begging for aid
Yet I didn't do anything
I merely sat there in the grey bus
And stared blankly at him
While he weeped and made failed gestures of despair
With the rain pouring down his frail body
Nerves shaking him to the core
Cutting down his trees
Slipping veins
As the life of him was drained....

He died last night
And I could hear his cries all night long
But what could I do?
What could I DO?
As I walked under that purple twilight sky
I saw it so clearly
My life is this
I am this and I cannot change it now
I've made my choice
And Alma suffered the consequences
Please, dear...
Don't think I've done this out of cruelty
I just couldn't cope
The life that now exists
With the world I once lived in
They're not compatible
So I turned away when you were bleeding to death
Maybe you've found the void
And perhaps that is where true happiness lies
But for now I'll remain soulless
So I can survive in this existence
Where stupidity predominates.
*Sleep well, Alma*
Joana. I'm sad today because you are not here
Because everything is weighing me down
No one appreciates my bluntness
No one wants to be put in question
Who wants to question themselves?
They all want to live happily
Conforming to everything that is imposed on them
The brainwashing did wonders to them
Sheeeeeeeep, they all are
How I loathe them
How they can't understand me
'You're so strange', one said
While I smiled as discoursing on why I don't follow them
The smile concealed my will to beat him up
And torture him, defying life
Until he'd admit that he wouldn't think the same
That he wouldn't be the same if people were all like me
They all follow each other
Sheeeeeeeeeep, they all are
And the bitches parade around in their black suits
Laughing like mad hyenas
O, how I loathe them
Yet I must endure it all
Controlling my grinding of teeth
And pretend to be 'just one of the others'
Making bad excuses to flee from confrontations
And the baby sheep there lie
Trembling with cold (or fear?)
Indulging in the mindless pranks...
Where are the actions?
Are there brains in a university?
Or have they been disposed on their way there?
I fear that life won't be pleasant from now on
But at least I know I have been what I am
And not how some hollow, ugly hyena has told me to be.
Joana. Searching for him
Under the pouring red water
Falling from the injured sky
Bleeding to its cold and miserable death
Not being able to find the soul
And getting lost under the tall nude trees
Weeping to someone who can hear
And waiting for the warm hands to come
Ceased to feel anything
Forbidden to shed the salty drops
When hearing the stillness of this cold forest
Something abates inside
And breaks into fragments of oneself
Time passes quickly when leaving the perspective
But grovels sluggishly as swimming in its gelid waters
Rowing quietly now down this phantom
This river that leads to the void
Pale as the morbid sky above
Hearing rumouring echoes of a lost life
Suddenly looking back
He seems to run by through the bushes
As if scared by having been discovered
His ghostly figure and the sadness of his eyes
Thinking that it was him
The heart sweals with hope
And appears to have the soul holding its hand again
Yet nothing more it was
Than a mere illusion
Like all of this time has been
And the boat continues rowing
Sluggishly and grovelling above the waters
And Alma's body lies there on the floor
Unaided and stiff
Until this pale river finds its sea again.
what's it to you?
who go