Sempre tive uma enorme facilidade de imaginar, de ver formas e criar histórias com sentimentos que não sabia bem explicar.
A parede do meu quarto era estrelada e nele eu via e pairava sobre o meu próprio universo e no mesmo movimento astral, o mar de cortinados camuflava-se na escuridão. A sua cor azul escura mas não totalmente opaca deixava penetrar a luz que por vezes se fazia notar a sair do tapete.
Construído a partir de memórias, era nele que eu parava para imaginar e criar histórias que só existiam na minha cabeça.
Não era quadrado, circular ou retangular. Não tinha uma forma como as que aprendemos na escola e era impossível de medir devido à sua constante mutação.
No meio de tantas transformações havia uma que era a minha preferida. Não me lembro o que lhe dizia, mas ele percebia. Sentava-me, pegava no rádio e lá íamos nós para algum sítio, talvez um universo distante, ou um planeta macaco, não sei ao certo.
Por vezes acabávamos a visitar o Freddie Mercury, um feiticeiro lá de um universo vizinho que não sei que poções fazia mas usava palavras como “its a kind of magic”, e acho que tinha algo a ver com magia.
Ele falava numa língua que eu não percebia mas soava bem e eu gostava.
Um dia visitamos um que se chamava “tribalistas” onde falavam a nossa língua e era engraçado. Durante as nossas conversas mencionavam bastante o AMOR então eu nem sempre entendia bem.
“—Sabes o que é o amor?” -perguntava
“—Ouvi dizer que é tramado”
“—Amor…? Sabes…?”
“É uma pergunta complicada” —respondiam muitas vezes
E ficava sem saber.
Cheguei a perguntar aos habitantes de outros universos se sabiam como funcionava mas todos acabavam por ficar atrapalhados ou a dar-me respostas muito diferentes.
Num dos meus universos mais visitados, e talvez o meu preferido, havia um senhor chamado “Phil Collins” que dizia perceber bastante desse tal sentimento. “You’ll be in my heart” dizia ele, e daquilo eu não retirava nada, mas gostava de o ouvir.
Nessas e outras viagens lembro-me de continuar em busca do que seria esse sentimento do amor, mas acho que acabei por não encontrar nada.
O amor era confuso e parecia grande demais para mim —“O meu tapete é grande, talvez tenha espaço para ele aqui” —pensava.
Era pequenina e só sabia o que era ser feliz com o meu tapete, no meu quarto e na casa de quem fazia tudo por mim. Era confortável, quentinho e dava vontade de sorrir. Talvez isso fosse tão simples e o bastante. E numa altura em que os planetas sobre mim brilhavam, era o tapete que junto aos meus pés, me fascinava.
Estou aqui agora, olho para cima um pouco mais distante do chão e sou grande o suficiente para guardar todo aquele amor que eu tinha sim, naquela altura, descoberto.
I've always had a great ability to imagine, to see shapes and create stories with feelings that I didn't know how to explain.
The wall in my room was full of stars and in there I would see and hovered over my own universe and, with the same astral movement, the curtains' sea would camouflaged itself in the darkness. Its dark blue color, but not completely opaque, allowed the light to cross the fabric, which we could notice coming from the carpet.
Built from memories, it was where I would stop to imagine and create stories that only existed in my head.
Its shape was not square, circular or rectangular or like another ones we learned at school and it was impossible to measure due to its constant mutation.
Its shape was not square, circular or rectangular or like another ones we learned at school and it was impossible to measure due to its constant mutation.
Among so many transformations there was one that was my favorite. I don't remember what I would say to it, but it would always understand. I would sit on it, pick up the radio and off we would go somewhere, maybe a distant universe, or an ape kingdom, I don't know for sure.
Sometimes we ended up visiting Freddie Mercury, a wizard from a neighboring universe. I didn't know which potions he was making but he used to use words like “it's a kind of magic”, and I think it had something to do with magic. I couldn't understand which language he was speaking but it sounded nice and I liked it.
One day we visited one planet called “tribalistas” where they spoke our language and it made it funny. During our conversations they would always mention the word LOVE so I didn't always understand what was it about.
“–Do you know what "love" is?” — he asked
“–I heard it’s a scam”
"-Love…? Do you know…?”
“It’s a complicated question” — they often responded
“–I heard it’s a scam”
"-Love…? Do you know…?”
“It’s a complicated question” — they often responded
Later I asked the inhabitants of other universes if they knew how it worked, but everyone ended up getting confused or giving me different answers.
In one of my most visited universes, and perhaps my favorite, I met a man called “Phil Collins” who told me he understood this feeling a lot. “You’ll be in my heart” he said, and I didn’t take anything from that, but I enjoyed listening to him.
On these and other trips I remember continuing to search for what that feeling of love would be, but ended up with nothing.
Love was confusing and seemed too big for me — “My carpet is big enough, maybe I have room for it here” — I thought.
I was little and I only knew what it was like to be happy with my carpet, in my room, at the house of those who did everything for me. It was comfortable, warm and made me want to smile. That was simple and enough. At that time, when the planets above me shone, the carpet on my feet was the one fascinating me.
I'm here now, I look up a little further from the ground and I'm old enough to hold all that love that I had already discovered at that time.
