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segunda-feira, 21 de fevereiro de 2011

It's hard to find live flowers among dead people

         Metaphorical, I can say. Looking for something to think about - as if that were necessary for my insane mind - I decided to take a walk in a Death Valley, aspiring the peace offered in that silence, forgetting the life that existed outside those walls.
I saw dead flowers, artificial flowers, rotten flowers... and it did not destroy all that morbid beauty of that place. But why not live flowers? Only where the ground was churned up, where you could see that someone had been buried some time ago, there were live flowers, placed as if they were expected to decompose slowly with whom they were dedicated. And they die, die as if they carry the longing of all people who still alive... 
They are damned. They'll have to stay there, representing the hope and the reality... you do not realize that the flowers are already dead since the moment they were placed in the vessel or in a crown as you cannot belive that the person who is in the coffin has already gone. It's a perfect synchrony, a translation of feelings and an attempt to comfort we always look at, but do not always see...
                                         ~Tany~  Feb. 20th, 2011

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