MARTA D'OREY

LISBON, PORTUGAL

My name has an easy laughter and a rooted character. It is written in words printed in the stories that, in me, I pack, and express out loud with a stuck-up attitude. My name is tangled in messy hair and rooted in bare feet. It is told restless and curious, assertive and stubborn. It is printed on the ground in which it steps on, and expressed in a sky it can’t locate. It dreams, but awake. It knows, but not all. It searches, but enjoys along the way. Does it live? Without certainties, but with immense joy. My name is all of this and much more. To friends? Marta will do. Pleasure? Hope not all mine.

SALTY BLOOD

November 2016 I opened my car’s trunk to pack the backpack, in which I kept the oxygen bottle, and found my surfing wetsuit. I stood there, paralyzed, staring at him, as if I had ran into an old friend I hadn’t seen in years, and with whom I wanted to remember moments lived before, in…

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IT’S BETTER TO FEEL PAIN THAN NOTHING AT ALL

“What’s your controversial theory?”   “It’s better to fail pain than nothing at all.” I remember hearing a singer I like saying this. I remember not getting what he meant, but the melody sounded nice and, for that reason only, I kept the headphones on and sang along to the rhymes on my way home….

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LIVING BEING

A living being is complex. It requires molecules, atoms, particles, and an invisible immensity of lines and in-between lines, which pass unnoticed to the naked eye. Functioning doesn’t require ingenuity, until there’s a short circuit. Turning the winch doesn’t harden the muscle, until it makes it hurt. Breathing is easy, until it isn’t. The disease…

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LIFE & I

We have always gotten along well. We never fought over toys, I never screamed at Her because I was hungry, I never cried on Her shoulder because I scratched my knee, and never have I asked Her to be marked with a full stop, as I have always been a woman of commas. And there…

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