13 junho, 2011

Para as pessoas que conheci cá fora.

The voices of the people outside enter through the window - laughs, songs, small screams of excitement. In the kitchen, the water boils in a broken pan. The corridors are empty, the doors are closed. 

We feel the same. Excited, but empty. Excited about the future that is coming, about the ones we left and can’t wait to see again. But we are going, and we can’t come back. It’s not like we are going to follow through this corridors again, buying chocolate in a crapy-stealing-money-machine in some really old faculty, with doors impossible to open.   It’s not like we’re going to shut shuttlecocks in the middle of some green fields or play aggressive card games, become hysterical and insult each other again. 

Poznan will always be Poznan, the city that wakes’ up in excitement and falls asleep in the deepest calm; with the Stary Rynek, full of unique smells, colors and sounds; with the drunk people complaining in the trams; the soap bubbles flying in the air. But what is a Poznan without that faces we are familiar to? Without the  laugh of some small girl with a big ass? Without the evil gluton-queen and the smell of some delicious meal coming from the kitchen? Without that girl that everyone have to make an effort to take out of the room? Without the little fairy dancing barely foot on the streets? Without the eternal song of un-understandable sounds from some phonetics freak? Without the hiper-negative creature that doesn’t like nothing? Without the worries of the purple-haired multi-lingual bitch? Without the strength of the polish speaker punk? Without the joy of the tiny sensitive girl? Without the hugs of some chinese golden-hearted guy? Without the way of opening doors of some evil cat? Without the charm of a french little princess? 

Poznan will be Poznan. A city of memories, of personal stories that nobody else cares about, of special places that nobody else shares. A city of inaudible songs and invisible steps. A city that only us can see and will not be able to touch again.  Poznan will be some kind of hibernated island, covered by the highest snows, in which we will never find  our old Poznan again. But it existed. And as long as all of you remember, it will always be our Poznan, a unique secret shared by unique people.

3 comentários:

Liz disse...

Beky, this is beautiful. This is the feeling exactly! I think I'm going to cry now. <3

Beky disse...

Don't cry, little butterfly. Time comes and go, and some times stay. So smile and remember - that's the way.

Mia disse...

this is beautiful! thank you very much. please remind me of it when i'm going home and not a single tear wants to come from my eyes. here i am crying in front of my computer - for many reasons - not just because i'm sad i have to leave all you wonderful people but also for joy about the great time we had together. it was not all sunshine and roses - but it'S always the good memories that persist