possíveis cenários de Céu

Li este texto num blog http://www.harpold.com

(desculpem não traduzir mas estou mesmo cansada) de Leslie Harpold ... já vos falei dela no Calendário do Advento, uns posts mais abaixo ...

A record arm that you can pick up and put down in favorite parts of your life to play over, like dropping the needle in the middle of your favorite song back in 1980, when you knew exactly which part of the groove was where the guitar solo to "Train in Vain" ended. Moving it there meant you could dance around your room for just one more minute before shoving off, face first, into the snow on a school day. Pick the arm up in heaven, and it's the moment right before Billy Mullen kisses you, standing in the Putt Putt parking lot, just before the street lights come on. Leave it playing through the part where you race home, feet barely touching the ground for the nine blocks you run until you collapse on the landing, face flushed. Lift it off again before you hear your mom say "Young lady..." After savoring it a moment, which might be three hundred heaven years, drop it again that one day you stood in front of the mirror naked and went "you know, I think my boobs are pretty good," and actually believed it. Just replaying the greatest moments again and again, and always being pleasantly surprised how quickly they add up, how many you have to choose from, not having had the luxury of seeing them like an endless play list when you wandered around on this mortal coil.
You get to drive down the most beautiful road ever as fast or slow as you like in a car with enough leg and head room, a great stereo, and the companion of your choice. Your companion enjoys riding shotgun as much as you love driving. Someone brushes your hair every single day and never says, "My arms are tired."
The novel you wished would never end doesn't and peonies bloom year round. You are encouraged to watch movies from an oversized bathtub.
Get up around sunrise, because sunrise is always five minutes after you wake up in heaven, and seeing a different and more magnificent one each day, simultaneously thinking "Wow, earth was beautiful" and also "This is pretty great too." Spend the whole day reunited with pets and being really good at all the stuff you never got around to learning but always wanted to try like snow boarding and making quilts.
The feeling you get when you wake up in the middle of the night laughing thinking about the silliest thing you saw that day.
Swimming in the nicest pool ever, (100% pee free!) slightly heated, incredibly refreshing and no one ever bumping into you. To keep you aware of how lovely it is, periodically you get out of the pool for a big cookout where the watermelon they serve after the hot dogs is fresh and sweet, and there's no penalty for getting back in the pool too soon. Also spitting watermelon seeds would be considered a beautiful gesture, not something "nice young ladies like you do not do."
Perpetually maintaining a combination of these three feelings: hearing the first five bars of your favorite song in an unexpected place, the feeling you have when you wake up from a power nap, drink a glass of water and blink twice while taking your deepest breath; combined with that super fleeting moment your lips stop touching someone else's. Right when you realize you've been kissed.
It is totally okay to write yourself notes and draw pictures on your arms and legs, as long as they are beautiful.

P.S. You also get perfect penmanship.
Prada looking pants that feel like flannel pajama bottoms. You are always a size six.
Fresh blackberries with breakfast every day. Diet coke on tap. Gymnastics are second nature to your body, you flip and tumble with alacrity. When people look at you, they see you and they smile from the heart. At night you sleep on the softest pillow ever, and both sides of the pillowcase are cool.
What is is always good enough.

E suscita-me um pensamento. Ou vários. Não tão brilhantes como estes, mas são os meus.

Como é que eu gostaria que o meu Céu fosse (se é que ele existe). Então, divaguemos !

Um pedaço de terra sobre um céu azul. Temperatura 23/24 º C. Céu limpo. E estrelas que cintilam o dia inteiro. Não sinto nem frio, nem calor. O mar ao pé, em todos os seus estados. Ora calmo, ora violento mas sempre verde esmeralda. Vejo-lhe o fundo : a abundância em peixe de todas as côres. Tranquilos. Por vezes tomam asas e aparecem sob a prata que se estende sobre a água. Música. Muita música. Blues, Jazz, Swing, Clássica, Chill Out, à velocidade do pensamento. Na ponta do querer.

Não sinto fome nem sede. Sinto vontade de sentir sabores e cheiros. O cheiro do alecrim, da goiaba, da manga, do maracujá. O sabor do sal. ou da canela, do queijo, do pão acabado de cozer em forno de lenha.

Rodeiam-me árvores e flores, e as suas essências e cores sucedem-se à minha passagem: da madressilva, do rosmaninho, das rosas, dos lilazes, dos jasmins, dos eucaliptos e dos pinheiros.

Pessoas ? A família, os amigos -e nem todos - e a pessoa que eu amo. Muitas crianças, lindas, inteligentes e tranquilas. Os meus cães.

Muitos livros, filmes ... E a possibilidade de me teletransportar, viajar no tempo e ver o mundo de cima. Ser invisível quando quisesse e adivinhar o que vai na cabeça das pessoas.

Penso que isto resume, grosso modo, o meu Céu.

E o teu ?