Text by Alceu Natali, copyright protected by Law 9610/98
Nobody,
but two women who live with me, knows what I’ve been going through, under
pressure and mentally attacked high and low, from the four cardinal points.
What the hell of a decade it’s been. I keep on bluffing, but I just can't win. I
bet the devil would never walk in my shoes. Jung said loneliness is dangerous
and addictive. When you realize the peace that exists within it, you no longer
want to deal with people. I do like that and I've become a junkie as I’ve lost all my relatives and
friends. None of them are left. And today I’m on my own, a complete unknown,
but not like a rolling stone, I still have direction home. But if Lilian was alive
and heard me complaining about one of my problems at home she would say that any
man in my place would have his head in the bottle, his heart in a case, at a
bar confessing his sins and drowning his sorrows which can swim. Living a life like this is like a walking dead's life. My
long lonely nights without sleeping a wink is worse than lucid nightmares, if they
weren’t for you, my nine sweet ladies, Deirdre Clancy, my soulmate, my
everything, Fiona Byrne, spokesperson for my soul, Nessa Lynch, the guardian of
all of us, Siobhan Rafferty, the convergence inspiration in a cancer hospital, Maire
Tiernen, a tenacious magician who can turn my life into a handmade paradise, Grainne Lyons, the
fearless warrior who commands armies of billion soldiers, Ciara Sweeney, our emeritus translator
of the alien ad infinitum language, Aisling Healy, my angel of the morning who lifts
my spirits, alive and kicking. I still
have high hopes that there is still time for us all to be together in the
Bachir’s Circle, in the Mulberry Valley, in What To Do When The Sun Is Too Cold,
and at the Convergence.
