Status Updates From Perto do coração selvagem: ...

Inverosímil que Lispector tuviera 20 años cuando escribió esto. Sin palabras.

Every desire is seeking after pleasure. Every moment of remorse, compassion, generosity, is its fear. All the despair, and searchings for other paths betray dissatisfaction.

Always without stopping, distracting my weary desire to reach some final resting-place. Where did I once see a moon high in the sky, white and silent? Livid clothing fluttering in the breeze. The mast without a flag, erect and mute, rooted in space... Everything awaiting midnight — I am deceiving myself, I must return. I feel no madness in my desire to bite into stars,

If the brilliance of the stars causes internal pain, if this remote communication is possible, it's because something almost resembling a star glimmers inside me.

What does it matter what it really is? Truly I am on my knees, naked as an animal... the bed gradually disappears, the walls of the room recede, collapse in ruins. And I am in the world, as free and lithe as a colt on the plain. I rise as gentle as a puff of air, I raise my sleepy head like that of a flower, my feet agile, and cross the fields, further than the earth, the world, time,

In the silent bed, floating in the darkness, she curls up as if she were in the last womb and forgets. Everything is vague, uncertain and silent.

Yes, they were fond of each other in a distant, familiar way. From time to time, absorbed in their games, they would glance at each other anxiously, as if to reassure themselves that they still existed.

Everyone was forgetting that all they wanted to do was to amuse themselves.

The word cracks between my teeth into fragile splinters. Because no rain falls inside me, I wish to be a star. Purify me a little and I shall acquire the dimensions of those beings who take refuge behind the rain.

Why do these strange longings possess me? Raindrops and stars, this dense and chilling fusion has roused me, opened the gates of my green and sombre forest, of this forest smelling of an abyss where water flows.

I've discovered a miracle in the rain — a miracle splintered into dense, solemn, glittering stars. In those stars I can foretell the secret, their brilliance is the impassive mystery I can hear flowing inside me, weeping at length in tones of romantic despair. Dear God, at least bring me into contact with them, satisfy my longing to kiss them. To feel their light on my lips, to feel it glow inside my body, [...]