Sunday, November 25, 2007

Filho és, pai serás

Um dos textos mais belos que li nos últimos tempos.

(...) Other people’s memories are like other people’s dreams. The more one tries to communicate just how special they are, the more banal they seem. They lose their power in the open spaces between us, like a blood-borne virus. Who cares that someone’s father taught them the names of the planets, and that the thought of that night, about a thousand billion years ago, can be so sharp and potent? When I was very small, he taught me to ride a bike by holding onto the back until I was steady, then letting go when I wasn’t looking. I was halfway down the street before I realised he wasn’t there anymore, but as soon as I noticed, I fell off. This time, I’ll just keep pedalling.

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