“Music isn’t just something that comforts or distracts us, it goes beyond that – it’s an ideology. You can judge people by the kind of music they listen to.”
~ Paulo Coelho, The Witch of Portobello
“Man needs what’s worst in him in order to achieve what’s best in him.”
~ Paulo Coelho, The Devil and Miss Prym
Images ©The Witch of Portobello.
Paulo Coelho’s Experimental Film The Witch of Portobello, based on his best-selling book of the same name.
With the sound of the truth, or was it anger?
it matters not, right now!
You shattered my heart into a million pieces.
Those words, that weapon
they’re playing in my head, again and again.
Tell me, did you mean it, or was it just anger?
It matters for tomorrow.
But today, the deed is done.
The stab in my heart, you can’t take it back, it can’t be undone.
Now, only time is my best friend.
Only time can heal me now.
©1997
She was wearing a white wife beater when they walked into the clothing store. They all scattered, going to the different racks.
She walked through the store uninterested in any of the items when a black tank top with a cross, caught her eye. She inspected the front and back. The backside had the same design running through the vertical length of it. She loved the style and thought to try it on.
She walked into the dressing room, took off her white wife beater and slipped on the black one. The fit was perfect-she decided to buy it. She thought to keep it on since it looked better than the white one she had walked in with. Putting the white one into her purse, she walked out of the dressing room and headed towards the register to pay, when the thought crossed her mind- if she was to walk out of the store without paying for it, would anyone notice?
A rush of paranoia shot through her body. It’s not right, I’m going to pay for it right now, I don’t want to deal with the karmic energy. But I can’t let go of this feeling, I want to go through it all the way. Fuck it! I’m going to do it. All the while observing everyone in the store, accessing if her plan could go through. Piece of cake!.
Exhilarated, she tried hard to prevent her heartbeat from skyrocketing and revealing her secret, all the while taking an inventory of all the workers and the numerous customers. No one was paying any attention to her, or her tank top. She changed directions and joined her friends.
They left the store making small talk. Inconspicuously, she looked back to make sure no one was after her. A strong sense of relief, of achievement, washed over her, when she saw the coast was clear. That heavy feeling had turned into a soft, tingly, almost numbing sensation on her skin, and her heart was beating a different beat-calmer-not as intense and life threatening as she was feeling just a few minutes ago.
She thought, after all, it was a piece of cake, because neither one of her three friends even noticed the change of color of her shirt from white to black.
©2009