Original text in Portuguese, right below the English version - Picture by Uguz Araz

At a 24-hour diner.

Loads of dark rings under eyes, fuck, and I don't even have foundation, fuck it. My friend is here.

- Heya!

- Oie menina, tudo bom?

- Sweet... I'm starving!

- Ah, hi, I'd like orange juice with pão de queijo [Brazilian cheese bread] (I stopped and thought, fuck I am in New York, obviously there is no pão de queijo...)


- (still thinking about the pão de queijo) Omellete, please.

- Girl, since when do you drink orange juice??? You hate orange juice!

- (since she went away) Since she went away. I hate it but she loves it, ya know? It's like I could feel her...

- Dude, no comments, you need to do something about it...

I looked at Manhattan and saw how much I breathed the dualism of such beauty and abscence.

- I'm going to, in fact. I am already. Yo, one more juice, please.

- What are you going to do?

- I'm going to wait...

[................Original Text...............]

Num dinner 24 horas.

Olheiras aos montes, porra, e nem base tenho, foda-se. Minha amiga chegou.

- Oie!

- Hey girl, how's it going?

- Beleza... to morrendo de fome!

- Ah, oi, eu queria suco de laranja com pão de queijo (parei e pensei caralho to em New York, óbvio que não tem pão de queijo...)


- (ainda pensando no pão de queijo) omelete, please.

- Menina, desde quando você toma suco de laranja??? Você odeia suco de laranja!

- (Desde que ela se foi) desde que ela se foi. Detesto mas ela gosta, saca? É como se eu pudesse senti-la...

- Cara, sem comentários, você precisa fazer algo...

Olhei pra Manhattan e vi o quanto respirava o dualismo de tanta beleza e de tanta ausência.

- Vou fazer sim, alias já estou fazendo. Ow, me vê mais um suco, por favor?

- Vai fazer o que?

- Vou esperar...


[PIC by talented optiknerve_gr]

Dear Mr. Plato,
I'm writing you this very deep and honest little note to let you know that I hate you Sir. I do. I hate you as much as I hate the idea of you. So, may all your Platonism and ideals just basically go to hell. Why? Because you made theory practice and practice theory and let me tell you something Mr. I-was-born-in-Athens... one thing is very FUCKING different than the other. If only the idea of something was enough to make us practice it... how do you explain that people fully understand a concept yet don't act according to them, although they agree with it? And no, don't make me give you a concrete example, you're too good at reading in between the lines...

Dear Mr. Vinícius de Moraes,
I'm writing you this kind and warm note to let you know that your concept of love is actually very right, although I hate you and hate your poetry. How quick you get into love, how quick you forget it, very clever. Yeah, may this feeling called "love" be eternal until it lasts, just like you have always said repeatedly like this hammering in my head "may love be eternal until it lasts". You are so full of crap, but you Sir, you understood the nature of people, I am just too much like Mr. Plato to agree with you... I have this spark of hope that refuses to give in, that whole I understand the concept but can't act on it. I admire you Sir, for you really saw us humans for what we are, full of crap.

The Prophet Who Died Before Being Prophetic

I'm going through
garbage hoping to read
my future out of moldy
food and tortured paper.

I'm waiting for my moment to arise.

I squint my eyes
until it's blurry and shaky
so that the mystical
can be unveiled.

I'm waiting for my moment
to arise.

I embrace the universe
or let my embrace be universal,
feeling in sync,
feeling so sick
I'm letting my moment decline.


Sometimes all we want is to be forgotten, until we realize that perhaps living in one's memory was the only thing that made the whole bullshit worth.


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