Skip to main content

O comprimido

Uma pílula, um comprimido. Tomar um por dia, me disse o médico. Nunca me lembro de tomar essa porra! Um remédio desses que é ruim com ele, pior sem ele. Tem um outro que vai junto, menorzinho. Esse é um troço comprido que, pode parecer ridículo, mas se tomar com muita água, boia na boca e não desce, depois fica aquele gosto amargo na língua. Se tomar com pouca água, entala. Quase morro da última vez. Juro que fiquei roxa.

Moro só e achei que ia ser encontrada pelo porteiro daí a uma semana, quando sentissem meu cheiro de podre no corredor. Os vizinhos reclamariam e viriam com o porteiro arrombar a porta. Lá estaria eu, morta, roxa como uma beringela, as baratas passeando pelo meu cadáver. Dias depois ainda seria o comentário do prédio: "Mas, morreu de quê?" "Ah, menina, você não vai acreditar! Morreu entalada com um comprimido!" 


Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I upset people (This may be the first of a series)

I feel I upset many people. Maybe it is something I do, but the feeling I get is that what upsets them is the way I live, the choices I make. People get upset with me when they hear I don't believe in God. If I tell them that I once did, but have lost my faith after I lost my first child, a premature baby, they fail to grasp the complexity of it. They look at me with irritating condescendent pityful eyes and they think I can be "fixed." To be fair, maybe I fail to help them understand that after what happened to me, God as I came to know it and most people of Christian beliefs do, is of no use to me.  God proved himself either nonexistent or useless to me when my first born died and when I almost followed him due to Eclampsia and Hellp Syndrome (Go ahead and google it! Unless you are doctor or had someone in the family who had this, you will never know it.) He did not save my baby and he did not spare me the excruciating suffering I had to endure. And if you think I...
4 comments
Read more

Once

I once dated a werewolf            Eyes like flashlights           showing the path I once walked the path I found lost words I found lost pain I once threw my car from a bridge In the highest speed When street lights seemed like flying arrows and the water from the lake was a dark brick wall I once threw stones at the windows of the moon and sailed a boat of stardust in a lightless night I crossed the borders in disguise and spoke a million tongues I now decided to forget I once danced with a king on top of the highest tower No one ever saw the king No one, but me I once was a speck of dust I once was a grain of sand I was part of a hurricane And I landed on another land I once dreamt new dreams and wrote them on napkins I once wrote poems on spaceships and lies on  pages of ancient books no one ever read I once took a look I once took a pick I once took a bite It did not do the trick  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chinese man

  She got up and went to get a cup of coffee. “Damned headache!” Acute and deep, precise, the day ruined. -        -   As if a long, fine, pointy needle forced itself through my cranium, you know? A Chinese man with long mustache holding one point of the needle, manipulating it, pushing it very slowly. -        -   Why Chinese? Seriously, she could not believe it! A headache from Hell, dripping sweat after the coffee and that was the question? -        -   Why not? Is there a law against the Chinese? -       I was just asking! -        -   It’s my pain, isn’t it? If it’s Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, what is the difference? -        -   Forget it!    She regretted the rude reply, but did not apologize! Apologizing would require time, explanations, facing the Chinese man, pulling him by the mustache, immobilizin...
2 comments
Read more