Há muito deixei de me importar
com o fato de ser, ou não ser,
amado por alguém.
Desde que me percebi jogado
no esquecimento por aqueles
que acreditei me amarem,
deixei de crer ser amado.
O tempo me ensinou que “eu
ser amado” independe das
minhas atitudes.
As fantasias, os devaneios,
as ilusões e as desilusões são
partes da vida, são coisas
como as frustrações.
As noites frias de solidão me
confessaram que é mais
confortante se aceitar só que
viver de ilusões.
O Mensageiro - Chuy, setembro de 2026.
&
Cold, lonely nights.
about whether or not
I am loved by someone.
Ever since I realized I had been cast
into oblivion by those
I believed loved me,
I stopped believing that I could be loved.
Time has taught me that “me
being loved” is independent of
my actions.
Fantasies, daydreams,
illusions, and disappointments are
part of life; they are things
like frustrations.
The cold nights of solitude have
revealed to me that it is more
comforting to accept being alone than
to live on illusions.
into oblivion by those
I believed loved me,
I stopped believing that I could be loved.
Time has taught me that “me
being loved” is independent of
my actions.
Fantasies, daydreams,
illusions, and disappointments are
part of life; they are things
like frustrations.
The cold nights of solitude have
revealed to me that it is more
comforting to accept being alone than
to live on illusions.
&
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