Resumo de Me And The Other One

Manuel Joaquim Guedes Martins.That's me.Roguery and fun worker,sling and top owner,football boy in the missing Andrade open field, dream builder and hope architect in the C.I.C - Colégio Internato dos Carvalhos, laughing and singing the song Lá Vamos.

Tear manufacturer,too.Me.Piece of the myth of Carvalhos gang,in the past sixties and such.Me, who deceased seventeen years ago.On August 25 th 1988. The year and the day of the fire of Chiado in Lisboa.Almost eighteen years ago.A year for legal majority.The majority of death on life.The life that died me.That way.Discerning, slow, inexorable.

Ah.. but I died on account of A.L.S. ( Amiotrofic lateral sclerosis )( E.L.A. - Esclerose lateral amiotrófica,in portuguese) . But E.L.A. she * didn´t know.She had never been introduced to such a creature.At a first moment the incredulity took form and quickly gave place to the belief,to the hope,to the faith that moves mountains. So she threw down, in the darkness of the room, at the feet of Divine and wept.She wept thick tears that drained in deep ridges dug for long years down that face,witness of such a peculiar life.That face.My mother's face.And she prayed.Mum prayed.

I kept on breathing for three years and a little bit more.A breathing more and more dependent on it.And it was very demanding,too.Obssessively possessive and unhealthily glutton of me.Once my master,it didn't let me down anymore.Powerful.It didn't release me.Its tentacles, involved me in such a hug that even my out of order breathing,already gasping,threatened to give up.But E.L.A. didn´'t loosen.Not a little bit.So was the way it owned my body.

I didn't even know who I was.I only know there was something to which,E.L.A, the Master,first took my left arm,later the left leg, hands,the other arm,the other leg...! E.L.A.Omnipresent.I wasn't myself anymore.I was of its own.

From time to time, wondering it was distracted I caused my head to fall and looked down.I watched myself in a wheel chair.My rigid legs wavering around.Forlorn.My hands weren't hands anymore.They were a strange type of claws.Inflexible.My fingers without energy.No command.No direction.Volunteer muscles until then loyal and masters of virile and honest strength, were madly gotten passionate for E.L.A.And with E.L.A they went away.Ungrateful.

Active, the lucidity showed me my own body that on touching it was clammy.And dampness flew on and penetrated the hands of people who touched me.Reppelent.That is the word,indeed. Cause to looks between mercy and repulse, my body deformed more and more.I was already a pustule.

I couldn't eat properly anymore, too.My hands were good for nothing.I leaned over the plate.The open mouth, greedy, looked for pieces of food,that grasped and with the utmost effort swallowed at the cadence of a completely disordered breathing.

I felt they felt me.Therefore they moved away.Lunch hour, an opportunity to a gratifying meeting among professionals turned into a heavily depressing time.There was no chance to slow the work pressure.I was a morbid scene from which they naturally ran away.Without no stomach for eating. And I was left alone.

Even the closest around us, will never prevent that sensation of impossible share of disease, of pain,of disgrace,that are ours.Only ours.Singularly of our own. A solitude with no measure. As this one which left me, simply alone.But not on my own.Alone for E.L.A.

In my head, still the revolt! Against what?

The dice had been launched.I understood. Officially destroyed. I had to accept.
To go back was impossible.

And one night,seventeen years ago,the love of E.L.A for me was so much and so great that , my involunteer muscles, bewitched at the moment, were away too, taking me away from myself,to offer E.L.A the blow of life.My life. Triumphant, serene, it embrassed me a last time, hold me tightly and vanished...!

That lady nobody knew, even Charcot inntury who pursued it.In vay with people.Who ? It didn't say.Nor left written.

You know.With E.L.A. always has been this way.Just like absolute love.Absorbent.Total.Everything for everything

In vain my family claimed.I didn´t look back.No use.My feelings without feeling didn't feel anymore.I was in the point of getting away. From there.From where you are, at the moment.To this place, from where all of you I can see. Very sympatetically,indeed. Simpathy is what is more saleable here.Cheap.Very cheap.So cheap in this place as very expensive where you are.

As you usually say I died.But I died on another life, which this way raised strongly. I died, too, on another life, that this way too, faster and better grew up.Without me.Painfully without me.

But my children are well. I know. Thew weave quite good the thread of life.I am sure.My children are good weavers.Parents genes are there. Inside them.

Although passed away, life smiles at me...and Mum, accomplice, just like only mothers can be, looks after them. It looks after you too.

I know!

I'm Martins! Manuel Joaquim!

Just came to say you. Hello!

2005AUG15

* SHE ( E.L.A.- Initial letters for sclerosis lateral amiotrofic, in portuguese) and all together form the feminine personal pronoun in portuguese too.

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