Angioma cavernoso e diabetes mellitus.
Instável, sem dinheiro e saúde, passo a ficar fora de tom. Antes, morria com frequência. Sempre trágico, romântico e jovem. Depois de te conhecer, passei a envelhecer acompanhado, seguro de que minha tragédia não viria num golpe. E sim, constante. Dia a dia, na tua falta e em ausências.
É difícil aprender… de lado e desusado, vim a conhecer tua música. Você expande, ocupa e some. Sai de um laranja vibrante e um batom verde para um tom qualquer – não importa. Tua frequência encontra, consome e vibra no peito. Pressão e descompressão. O ar carrega, cheio de energia, olhares seguidos de pausas. Longas pausas. Sem querer (ou resistência) harmonizo contigo. Abandono meu contorno e dissolvo no que depois você chamou de amizade – pode ser isso também. Mas aqui, neste instante, reconfiguro. Desejoso, evaporo. Deixo disso. Sigo assim mesmo e me vou. O que fica é teu reflexo sobre minha tragédia.
Journal de terrain, Jour 2
Dear Nico,
Your email truly intrigued me, and the poem you discovered is fascinating. The image you describe, fragmented and spectral, evokes a silent suffering that echoes the bitter and desperate tone of the poem.
I, too, have found a text that seems to come from the same source.It speaks of a painful aging process, a constant absence, and emotional and financial instability. The author feels “out of tune,” out of sync with the world around him. There’s a strong presence of death, first as a familiar companion, then as a constant threat linked to the precariousness of his life.
What is striking is the contrast between this suffering and the appearance of a “you” who seems to bring a glimmer of light and connection. This presence, associated with music and color, allows the author to feel vibrantly alive and to harmonize, even if it’s ephemeral.
I wonder if this figure represents a real person or a kind of ideal that inspires and consumes at the same time. The author seems aware of the nature of this kind of relationship, but he surrenders to it nonetheless, preferring dissolution to resistance.
There is, in both texts, an exploration of the boundary between the inner and outer world, the visible and the invisible. The image of the fragmented form could symbolize this disintegration of identity, this loss of bearings in the face of absence and suffering.
I am struck by the similarity of the themes addressed in both texts: pain, loneliness, the search for meaning, the confrontation with death. The use of metaphors related to nature (the “sabiá-poca” bird, the bees, the coffee) and the body (blood, the taste of iron) creates a strong link between the individual and their environment, as if one reflects the other.
I have the impression that these poetic fragments are attempts to make sense of a fragmented reality, a world on the verge of disappearing. Perhaps these authors, faced with the collapse of their world, sought to connect to something greater, to a form of beauty or transcendence.
I am eager to share my discoveries with you and to explore these texts further. Perhaps together we can piece together the puzzle and understand the message that these voices from the past are trying to convey.
Sincerely,
Kai