Diário

Certo dia ela o aguardava, sentada perto de plantas. O céu era azul, e o dia, ensolarado. Usava redondos óculos escuros. O vento e ela estavam indo em direções contrárias. Seus cabelos claros voavam com ele, e ela simplesmente não se importava. Ouvia uma de suas músicas prediletas, enquanto esperava.

"Was it all in real time, or was it just in my mind? Or was I just a ghost passing through you? Clinging to the wreckage, until I got the message, hanging at the edge of the room. Give me something to dream, give me half of your bitterest pill, something from under the surface you actually feel. We say these words again and again, but they still sound the same. It was in your eyes, in your eyes, they were just easy lies. The lightest words are heavy, and promises are easy, and no one's ever happy or sad for very long. But just because I said it, it doesn't mean I meant it, I guess that was the way all along. I'm just shaping the sound, I'm just turning the syllables round, dipping my toe in the water and watching you drown. We say these words again and again, but they still sound the same. It was in my eyes, in my eyes, they were just easy lies. And it's been a long time waiting, and it's been a lifetime in the making. We said when you are alone and afraid I will come to your aid. Was it just a dream, just a dream, or was it real to me? We say these words again and again, but they still sound the same to me. Say these words again and again, and again and again."

No dia seguinte uma música triste tocava em seu rádio. Eram garotas diferentes. A de hoje chorava sem razão. Seus cabelos estavam bagunçados e ela apertava fortemente um travesseiro. Ela chorava e chorava sem um porquê. Ela se importava, hoje se importava. O céu estava azul, e o dia, ensolarado. Ela não sentia o vento batendo contra o seu rosto e bagunçando seus cabelos, estava trancada em seu quarto.

Eram garotas diferentes, dentro de uma só pessoa.