So this is it.
The last breath of a dying beast,
torn to pieces by its own creator.
A monster of pride and lust,
fed by sweat and tears,
doomed since its birth.
For such an abomination,
should not live too long.

What can be worse than love turned into hatred?


Come closer to me, come closer. I promise you it will be beautiful

“You destroy and you suffer… I often see how you sob over what you destroy, how you want to stop and just worship; and you do stop, and then a moment later you are at it again with a knife, like a surgeon.
In some strange way I am not with you, I am against you. We are destined to hold two truths. I love you and I fight you.
And you, the same. We will be stronger for it, each of us, stronger with our love and our hate.
When you caricature and nail down and tear apart, I hate you. I want to answer you, not with weak or stupid poetry but with a wonder as strong as your reality. I want to fight your surgical knife with all the occult and magical forces of the world.
I want to both combat you and submit to you, because as a woman I adore your courage, I adore the pain it engenders, I adore the struggle you carry in yourself, which I alone fully realize, I adore your terrifying sincerity. I adore your strength.
You are right. The world is to be caricatured, but I know, too, how much you can love what you caricature. How much passion there is in you! It is that I feel in you. I do not feel the savant, the revealer, the observer. When I am with you, it is the blood I sense.
This time you are not going to awake from the ecstasies of our encounters to reveal only the ridiculous moments.
No. You won’t do it this time, because while we live together, while you examine my indelible rouge effacing the design of my mouth, spreading like a blood after an operation (you kissed my mouth and it was gone, the design of it was lost as in a watercolor, the colors ran).
While you do that, I seize upon the wonder that is brushing by (the wonder, oh, the wonder of my lying under you), and I bring it to you, I breathe it around you.
Take it. I feel prodigal with my feelings when you love me, feelings so unblunted, so new, Henry, not lost in resemblance to other moments, so much ours, yours, mine, you and I together, not any man or any woman together.
The room is full of the incandescence you poured into me. The room will explode when I sit at the side of your bed and you talk to me. I don’t hear your words: your voice reverberated against my body like another kind of caress, another kind of penetration.
I have no power over your voice. It comes straight from you to me. I could stuff my ears and it would find its way into my blood and make it rise.
I am impervious to the flat visual attack of things. I see your khaki shirt hung up on a peg. It is your shirt and I could see you in it — you, wearing a color I detest. But I see you, not the khaki shirt.
Something stirs in me as I look at it, and it is certainly the human you. It is a vision of the human you revealing an amazing delicacy to me. It is your khaki shirt and you are the man who is the axis of my world now. I revolve around the richness of your being.
‘Come closer to me, come closer. I promise you it will be beautiful.’
You keep your promise.”


Meu coração escorre por entre meus dedos, manchando os lençóis, o tapete e as cortinas. Sons abafados entram pela janela como risos loucos de uma noite insana. Não há silencio, não há saída, somente esse pedaço de gente encravado em meu peito. E ele insiste em ir cada vez mais fundo, cada vez mais.


Every time I think about having kids I remember this orphanage that I used to visit, specially this little 3-year-old girl I met there. She had a huge scar covering her belly from top to bottom, and the social worker told me it was her mother who had done that to her. She was so traumatized she never spoke, but her eyes had this urge for attention and love that made me want so badly to take her home with me. Well, maybe someday I will.


Why chasing shadows when you are surrounded by light?
The love for the unknown will always surpass the comfort of traversed paths. But to what extent do we really get to know these paths?
There is always a dark corner where secrets are kept well hidden from passers-by.



Scattered across the floor,
shards of glass reflect the sunlight,
forming a prism of emotions.
All colours of feelings dance on the wall,
in patterns of joy and despair.



The most difficult thing about loving someone is learning how to let them go. We are humans, therefore animals, and we can never control to whom we are attracted, it is just impossible. Dealing with rejection is always a problem, for we tend to turn love into hatred and good feelings into depression.

But how to overcome such powerful emotions? Unfortunately there is no magical formula, but loving yourself is a start. If you want to be ok, why not wish them to be ok too? After all, if you love them you should want them to be happy, with or without you. Hold no grudges, it is better for your health. It is not easy, but it is worth trying.


International love cliché championship

I love you but I met someone else
It`s not me, it`s you
she`s poisonous
Be careful, he is trouble
I thought what we had was special
hush baby, don`t cry
you`ll get over it
I like her, she`s nuts
We`re nuts!
(Kenny G playing in the background)


It is indeed just a matter of perspective. Sitting here by myself, listening to this beautiful Velvet Underground song, in this perfect weather, I see life as it is.
Full of sound and fury, but also full of possibilities, you just have to have the right disposition to look at it and see the big picture. It is not so difficult after all. It is so simple that we refuse to see it that way. Being outdoors help, it's easier to see the big picture when you're looking up to the sky.
Value those who value you and don't be afraid to be yourself and speak your mind. It will attract those who are like minded and repel those who aren't; you don't need them anyway. And never be afraid to love, it is one of the few things that can make you feel truly alive.


I knew I would be deluded, so why did I let myself fall into this obvious trap?
It must have been some dark force that lured me to certain death.
Blunt force trauma.
If only I could forget the deep sound of your soft voice and the way you looked at me while you told stories of your past lives. All your pain only drew me closer, too close for you to stand it. Now you are drifting apart with every word not said, a distant ship`s smoke on my horizon.
Hoje eu dancei forró.
Já tinha me esquecido de como trançar as pernas de acordo com a música.
Hoje eu bebi 4 cervejas e fumei 3 cigarros.
Já tinha me esquecido de como era estar quase lúcida.
Hoje eu me distrai,
Pra ficar sem você.


Memory Lane Express

As she was on the bus, she thought about writting a book. In fact, she just wanted her tears to dry, so she thought about doing something. But as she reached for a pen, her whole body screamed of him, and it was as if that painful feeling would never go away.
She always cries on buses, no one cares, they all go on with their trips to nowhere. And nowhere is where she longs to be. She's been there so many times before that it is like home. And there, inside a beautiful box, are all the memories of lost feelings.



There is no point in trying to rationalise love.
Why we suddenly feel drawn to someone, why we feel completely absorbed by one's personality, how their smile can inspire us and make us think we own the world, or are on top of it.
 Love plays tricks on our simple and vulnerable hearts, it will tear us and fill us with joy. And it's just useless to fight against it, because the more we fight the more we are entangled and lost to these crazy feelings. Living over various ends.


You might be loveproof
But my heart understands no logic
It only knows the rhythm
`Cause you make it sing



When I was 18 and lived by myself in this shitty place in São Paulo, I feared I would die there and they would only find my rotten body weeks later.
Now, after all these years, I realised we all die alone anyway and what really matters is how you live and are capable of loving people while never expecting anything from them, because they will most certainly let you down.  Even if they don't find you're that gorgeous or even if they think you're a slut.
Well, fuck it, sluts can love too, maybe even more than anyone else for they don't care for what other people think. So if I don't feel sorry for myself I can be free to love and free to be whoever I want, cause free spirits are not afraid to love, and they're not afraid to die alone.

Broken poison bottle

Like two pieces of broken glass,
Brought together by heat,
You and me.