When I was around sixteen I always wished my life had some kind of tragedy. Society and the medias in general give us this idea that the best artists are the most fucked up. So if I wanted to be good I had to be as fucked up as any of the best ones.

I never thought my wish would come true and I never thought it would hurt this much. The truth is we don’t know anything about anything when we are sixteen, we’re blank canvas. I was the stupidest teenager ever. Now that tragedy hit my life like a fucking lightning strike all I want is to go back to my easy and happy life. I’d rather be depressed because I can’t have everything I want or because I’m not satisfied with my work than be depressed because I’ve lost something I’ll never be able to have back.

Of course I am not the person who’s suffering the most in this situation and everybody comes and tells me that I have to be strong, and I know I will. But once everyone is gone and I’m alone in the dark all I think about is going back.

I just adjusted my life and now nothing will ever be the same. There are things that happend, sad things, and they just take the taste out of food, they take the joy out of music, they take the poetry out of words, they take the smiles out of your face. And then you just got to hold on, you hold onto the little things, most of them memories or simple pleasures.

Tired of loosing, you just find strength where you never thought you could find it. You slowly re-set your goals according to the people you love, you just want to make them proud and happy.

Someone said the other day that our lives are just a very small part of our eternity, then I say: let’s make it count anyways. I want to make it count for those who always believed in me, I want to make it count for all I received and didn’t got the time to give back.

I want to be an anchor, strong, drowning to make sure the boat is steady, but for now I just ask to be weightless and just go with the waves drifting for a while, because that is a fact: I’m exhausted.

“The running of the horses fills up our heads. The cursed bells ringing. The hunt has begun. The demoniac horns calling for us. Blinded by the bright lights we move through the trees, the branches and leaves scratching our cold faces. Freedom enters our skin with the frozen wind of the north. A blur of colors in our eyes, fragile windows entering our souls. We don’t stop until it’s over, we won’t stop until it’s over. A war of laughs a peace of cries.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“She has her own stars in her own infinite sky. An insistent mermaid enchanting them all including us. Us, little sailors diving in the deepest seas. Her smiling eyes shining of a lovable conscience. She tells tales of happiness welcoming any lost soul wondering around. We can’t do anything but stay in her warm embrace.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“You are the blood dripping down my mouth when I bite my lips.
You are the air and smoke coming out of my dirty lungs.
You are the sun and moon shinning above my sky.
You are the poison running through my veins.
You intoxicate every little corner of my lonely mind.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“Framed bodies trying to escape their wooden prison. They consume to reach freedom. Some cracks appear on their faces and they stretch their skin until it breaks. Random, undefined ghosts hanging on the wall, broken from the inside. There’s only one fate left: the sacred fire to reborn from the ashes. Always begging for a never reached salvation, they ask for redemption. They fought the mountains and defeated the seas, starting to collect regrets to fill up their old days. Welcoming memories like old friends. Pale shadows inviting the Devil at their table to make a deal to recover their bright colors. They suddenly come to life, their lines and features slowly moving. The patterns disappear. A fusion of bodies and forms running towards something they’ll never reach. Tired, they lay in their infinite embraces. Figures falling in the nothingness of an unrequited love. All the sceptics eyes enjoying the fall. And there comes the paradoxe between the fear and the release of the crash. An implosion of colors in such a fragile body on the edge of glory forgetting about fame. Only one step away from the abyss.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“I’m a fly on the wall, a permanent shadow creeping on the back fed by every move, every whisper. I’m just seating apart watching the world burn and our youth passing by. There’s always a moment when I want to jump in, loose my position and just be a part of all this madness but I know I couldn’t control myself in it. I’m too weak, I always tend to loose my grip on reality. I’m aware that I can’t have it all, this will be the death of me: a death of pleasure, I am suffocating and burning of illusions of a damned happiness. Searching for something I’ll never reach, fighting for something that will never be mine. It’s hard for an outsider to learn how to get in.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“We get lost in our smoky room, where the restless ones fall asleep and the broken hearts fall in love. We condemn our decent images to serve our vices and sins. There’s no turning back, a leap of faith was given to convince the lonely wolves to settle down, howling of pleasure. We lay in our infinite embraces trying not to remember the outside until it comes knocking right at our door.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“Fall in love,
Fall in love with your friends,
Fall in love with a sound,
Fall in love with a song,
Fall in love with a smell, a color, a book, a word, a sentence, a texture, a fabric, a taste.
Fall in love with yourself.
Now, get tired, bored, forget about everything and do it all over again.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“My heart, it pounds,
In this endless walk,
Looking for shelter to rest my soul and relive my past.
I wish I could open my eyes and see.
See the space, see the moon, see the stars and us.
Shining brighter than those who do not know what living life at its fullest feels like.
They’re just little annoying shadows, coming only to prove us wrong.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.

“Smell autumn,
Smell october.
Smell flowers,
Smell fruits.
Smell, smell, smell and remember.
Light scents, the skin, the flesh, an identity.”

by Anaïs F. Afonso - Experimental Writing Part II & unfinished texts.