terça-feira, 4 de março de 2008

Feeling like Alice ou No fio da navalha...

Morpheus: I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?
Neo: You could say that.
Morpheus: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he's expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Neo?
Neo: No.
Morpheus: Why not?
Neo: 'Cause I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my life.
Morpheus: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. Like a splinter in your mind -- driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?
Neo: The Matrix?
Morpheus: Do you want to know what it is?(Neo nods his head.)
Morpheus: The Matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, or when go to church or when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Morpheus: That you are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your mind. Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back.
You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Remember - all I am offering is the truth, nothing more...

Eu tomei algumas pílulas
Umas eram azuis
Outras eram vermelhas
Algumas até multicoloridas
Me revelaram algumas verdades
Algumas mentiras
Alguns discursos maiores que essa vã dicotomia
A profundidade do buraco
Só recongnossível em perspectiva
Eu medi
E abandonei as convenções de medida
Sempre quis permanecer na Terra das Maravilhas
Suplantar essas amarras
Deixar de ser títere
Expandir a percepção
Mas vitimei meu discurso
Desgastei minha visão
Moí minha lingua
E assassinei Alice
Desejoso de voar nas costas do dragão
Cortei um pulso
Dancei com a morte
Me fiz de forte
Pra ter asas amplas
Cabelos compridos
Versos sábios
E um canto confortável
Encontrei foi o mato crescido
As árvores desfolhadas
Uma romaria de profanos ídolos
Um reino de banguelas
Clamando por um Deus que fosse surdo
Carregando a carcaça já podre de Alice...

2 comentários:

magie disse...

Quem seria Alice? Uma ficção realista ou uma realidade inventada?

Fica a dúvida.

Beijos...

Bianca Feijó disse...

Oi moço!

Que instigante esse,hein?!

Beijos!