Tiresia Page #3

Just local legend, rumors.

This isn't about prophecy,

but miracle.

A miracle?

That man who has leukemia...

Simon?

Two weeks ago, he saw Tiresia.

He told him he would be healed.

- And he was?

- Yes.

Anna?

Am I disturbing you?

Anna.

Anna, please leave us.

I want you to go out.

My name's Francois.

I've heard a lot about you.

People care for you?

I ask for nothing.

They give me things.

They help because I can't work.

It's nice of them.

When they come, you speak to them?

We talk, that's all.

I think I need to see you, too.

No one needs to see me.

People come, that's how it is.

I'd like to know

what you see about me.

I can't see anything.

Goodbye.

Father?

How did you know I was a priest?

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

I'm sorry.

I can't take your confession.

I know it's a sin.

Roses aren't God's invention.

Man took what God created

and transformed them.

I thank God that I'm here today.

And not when roses didn't exist.

It's wine.

Thank you.

I couldn't come empty-handed.

Can I ask you something?

Yes.

How long have you been blind?

I had an accident a while back.

I'm sorry.

What happened?

I can't remember.

You can't, or you don't want to say?

I can't remember.

Do you suffer?

We get used to everything.

So I got used to this, too.

I'm well cared for here.

I was taken in.

People try to give me

the best life possible.

You say you see things?

Things which will happen?

Those things happen.

But I don't make miracles.

All right.

Tell them I don't do miracles.

I'll tell them.

You must.

What do you see?

What does an oracle see?

A sentence comes, that's all.

And then what?

Then I speak it.

Does it come in a precise way?

I don't understand.

Do you decide anything?

When it comes?

Who should hear it?

I don't know.

People are there. Words come.

I speak.

Do you understand the words?

No need to be afraid.

I'm not afraid.

You remind me of a painting I own.

A woman seated on a sofa.

She stands out.

The sofa and wall are uni-colored.

She wears a black dress.

Her black hair is in a bun.

Fine features, thin neck and wrists.

Hands folded, she's leaning.

Her pose is somewhat twisted.

Her face is long and slightly odd.

Can't tell if she's smiling

or judging.

Maybe just an unimportant scene

from a salon. Maybe not.

An impression she sees

something that we don't.

Like she's mocking.

Maybe just cynical or disillusioned.

I'm nothing like that woman.

I had an accident.

I lost my sight.

I was taken in.

I'm fine here.

Safe and well cared for.

That's all.

No, there's something else.

I don't know.

Let's say I can't lie.

Even if telling the truth

is difficult.

How do you know you tell the truth?

I just know, that's all.

- Letters from locals?

- Yes.

May I?

Go on.

You don't open them.

As I said, I don't decide.

Precisely. Here's something.

A short poem by Omar Khayyam.

I'll read it to you.

The blind considered Khayyam

to be wise and intelligent.

"The circle we cross reveals not,

neither beginning nor end.

Nothing pronounces the truth:

From where we come is where we go.

The Master created all things,

but why condemn them

to imperfection?

If their images prove ugly,

whose fault is it?

If their images prove ugly,

whose fault is it?

And if beautiful,

why seek their ruin?"

You know,

I'm just a whore from Brazil.

I don't understand all you say.

That's why I mentioned my painting.

One can't be above things

and want to transform them.

Let things be as written.

I was transformed. I didn't choose.

That's different.

But you still made a choice.

I'm not sure.

Do you suffer from your physique?

That's unimportant.

Not true. That can't be said.

I'm talking about me.

I was from the favela slums.

I always knew my life

would be different from other boys.

But I didn't choose, not even that.

It was there.

It took a lot of work.

It was my own war.

I became a woman, then a whore.

Little boys who become women,

they become whores.

Then a man tore out my eyes.

Now I have a gift.

So I give.

I don't see the wrong in that.

All of you look at me,

thinking it's more, it's a great joy.

But it's a celebration in despair.

No one sees that.

I can't decide.

That's how it is. I decide nothing.

I told you, I decide nothing.

I'm just like that.

Nothing I can do about it.

I live with that. I accept it.

I feel something, then I speak it.

The truth is a force.

I told you, my life changed violently.

Sometimes, I feel happy.

They trust me with the trivial.

They trust Tiresia with their souls.

A horrible night which seems endless.

A real priest is never liked.

I believe people like me enough.

Tiresia said my pride

would soon pass.

That what I thought was an ulcer

was only temporary.

But I would have a dental problem.

I feel lost.

I don't understand it all.

I just take it.

Now I see separate things

seem to be connected.

Who did you go out with last night?

Yesterday?

The guy with the Mercedes?

I think I saw him somewhere before.

He made out with Vivi, right?

Yes. Because he's been my client

for a long time.

- Oh, Vivi! Big Vivi!

- Oh, yeah. She told me.

Big Vivi.

Oh, yeah. She's got a huge dick.

It's like a child's arm.

A child's arm!

But I don't know what went wrong,

because yesterday, he wanted me

to go with him, and I did.

You need to take it easy.

Why fight in the street?

Don't be so touchy.

You don't have papers.

You need to be discreet.

I talked to Mom.

They're preparing Arsenio's departure.

They send you a kiss.

You should call her.

She says you never call.

You listening, mule?

I'm listening, Edu.

Thanks.

Don't you want to have sex?

No.

I'm a whore.

I don't believe so.

Yes, I'm a whore.

I'll undress. We'll have sex.

All right?

Come here.

More beautiful than the others?

Yes.

Your skin is soft again.

My hands are too big.

I don't think so.

They are.

Show me.

They're beautiful.

Small hands are vulgar.

But I have a penis.

I know.

- You like my faults?

- Yes.

Even up close?

Even up close.

So you love me?

Yes, I love you.

Please, let me go.

Please.

It hurts.

I'm scared.

Mom.

I don't want to go back.

I don't want to go back.

Why did this happen?

Mary, I want to feel

your hand in mine.

It's inside.

Inside me.

I can hear. I can hear. I'm alive.

Anna will be the mother of Christ.

There's no beginning, no end.

No witness.

We're just a part

of things that go on.

Thank you.

It opens here.

See what's there. The key...

Put the key in and turn.

It opens.

Like that.

Break it, and it will fall.

Open.

Open.

The cross, I'm putting it down.

And I open.

They fell.

They fell.

And then...

That.

Okay, I don't know if--

What? I do that?

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