deixar de ser

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Certa vez, um conhecido me disse que era bom demais quando nos perdíamos dentro de um livro e em nosso próprio idioma. E agora eu reformulo: melhor ainda quando se está escrevendo e se descobre que se pode deixar de lado, talvez um pouco, o ônus de ser nesse preciso instante e singrar. Como se fosse aquele um habitat natural.

Crio lapsos de tempo. Existe o tempo em que não existo, no qual não escrevo. E existe o tempo em que me debruço num estado silencioso que está cheio de vozes e assim escrevo.
Assim, quase ausente e já ausente, suspiro pela entrega.

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