The score of the end


“(…) Now I have come to understand the way it is… (…)”


“(…) and now that I’m a little older…. this is what I meant to say… Babe, I… already miss you…”


“(…) Hang in there baby, sooner or later… I know I’ll get it right (…)”


“(…) Não é mais dia 36
Tudo começa outra vez
Esquece e não pensa mais…”

Or so I hope.

“(…) I have a headache in my chest, from all the chaos that you left… (…)”


“(…) Take my tears and that’s not nearly all!… Tainted love… (…)”


“(…) ‘Cause we both know I’ll never be your lover
I only bring the heat
Company under cover…
Filling space in your sheets (…)”

Painfully right, from the first time I’ve heard.

“(…) I’m so sorry for that ghost I made you be
Only one of us was real
And that was me
And I wish there was a treaty we could sign
I do not care who takes this bloody hill
I’m angry and I’m tired all the time
I wish there was a treaty, I wish there was a treaty
Between your love and mine”

Wrong!… and right.

“(…) Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way…”

That’s unfortunately right.

But/And so I will.



Fragment 2 – Crisis


Resultado de imagem para women devil human skin illustrations


I wasn’t feeling okay last night. It was as if my skin didn’t fit me right.

And then an anxiety crisis knocked on my door this morning. Fortunately, despite opening it a little, I was able to keep it out.

But I had help.

And this meant and means the world to me.

Still: what can we grasp from the causes and consequences? Which facts or events caused this?

It is a sum of things actually — something which is not that hard to understand.

The hardest part is, as usual, knowing how to deal with it.


Muddy Waters

From time to time I ask myself if I’m broken beyond repair.

And I always get to the conclusion that I actually am — but, somehow, I still have some hope I’ll be able to live on. After all, I’m still “stuck” here, so I might as well live (or survive, at least).

Yeah; I’m still alive. I guess.

* * *

Last Friday we have lost someone we actually cared about.

A father, a husband, an uncle, a godfather, a friend, a brother, a brother-in-law, a teammate, a… funny how many things we can be, huh.

When death takes someone away, that is it. It hurts for those who stay, but not anymore for the person — if they actually had time to feel.

Despair may strike us — whether it is for a second or for the rest of our lives — , and, for a while, it seems like there’s no way to move on.

If we want to keep at least a little bit of our sanity and dignity, we may have to force ourselves; trying to keep good memories, or to remember the last time we spoke and had a good time… those seem like the best options. If it’s possible, I mean.

I talked to him on his birthday, and, even though I couldn’t make it to the party that was probably going on, I naturally (?!) thought I would still be able to see him.

Yet, exactly one month after, he left us. And I only understood that when I remembered when we last met; dinner and laughs, and now sobs. What a… shock.

At 3pm, that was it; the other faces on the tomb moved me, for different reasons. I wonder when I’ll (have to go there and) see his again.

He won’t come back; none of them will.

He will me missed by many.

I died a little (more) as well.

* * *

He traveled shortly after he forcedly had lunch with us, on my birthday.

And he only came back, also forcedly, after he realized things were too serious for still having hope (and I don’t mean just for that death).

I exploded; I was exhausted, after spending the whole night there, and after all his lies. Shortly after the funeral he traveled again.

I don’t remember when was the last time we have actually spoken or had a good time. There’s nothing to hold on to anymore.

And there’s no comeback from this as well.

Who will actually miss him?! I won’t; not anymore.

I died a lot as well.

* * *

“(…) I will ask you for mercy
I will come to you blind
What you’ll see is the worst me
Not the last of my kind

In the muddy water we’re falling
In the muddy water we’re crawling
Holds me down
Hold me now
Sold me out
In the muddy waters we’re falling…”


She’ll be so upset when we tell her you’re not here anymore… More than we are, and it is already a lot.

And she will feel even worse when we tell her it was today, many months before the day she will find out you passed away.

You were probably her favorite; did you know about that?! Until the other one — “mine” — left us you were so playful!… Then, apparently, the perception of death hit you and you were changed forever.

I didn’t even want you in the first place! I remember they went out one day and I had to “babysit” you. It pissed me off, because you could stay neither outside (otherwise you would cross the gate bars, since you were just a little light brown ball of fur with hazel-greenish eyes), nor in (and I found out about that the “smelly way”, after you crapped all over the kitchen floor).

But you were already here, so, what could I do? I took care of you throughout the years, but I know I haven’t given you all the love I could, and I’m terribly sorry about that. I have been feeling like that for years, actually, but I was always so distant, so egoistic, so immersed in myself…

The tears I have already cried (and I’m sure many more are on their way) are sincere, though. And they roll down my face not only because you are gone, but also because I know how this will make her heart ache.

This has been such a difficult period for all of us! So much has happened in a relatively small period of time… When you got sick months ago it was already hard, but now this!… This is the worst blow of the year –another lie (and another harsh feeling) we will have to hide deep inside of us… (at least for now).

… we are really, truly and deeply sorry, dear.

From your name to the odd colors of your fur, the memories of you will follow me (and haunt me) until my time comes.

We did what we could, and still we can’t even understand this whole episode, since everything happened so fast. Probably, for a while, we will keep calling your name, and then pain will strike us when we realize you won’t come.

It made our hearts sink to see you in such a delicate situation; I didn’t want it to go that way, but I’m relieved it doesn’t hurt you anymore. Money can buy a lot of things in this world, but it couldn’t bring you back to us. But you were strong until the end, and we’re proud of you for that.

Even though this may sound as a cliche, you will be with us forever, when we tell one of your stories or see another dog that resembles you.

I’m really, really sorry dear. I can’t say that enough. But, if there’s actually something as “life after death”, I hope you live on.

“Life is pain”

After a considerable period of silence, something clicked inside. And the “urge” to post something made me remember I had this as some sort of draft — which, most certainly, deserved to see, once more, the daylight (of internet).

I was kind of “saving it”, for a moment when it would perfectly translate my state of mind.

This moment has sort of “repeated” itself many times during the past few (not exactly “few”, but anyways…) months — the past few weeks definitely included. But I was so demotivated I avoided thinking about writing anything (which was something that actually brought me back to “life” last year). How rude of me. How “wrong of me”.

At this exact moment the physical pain is actually the worst part — yet, it hasn’t taken over me. I can still think quite clearly, and some perspectives actually look brighter, even though I’m tired.

Yes; I’m exhausted. But somehow I guess I can walk a little more. I can go a little further. As always.

I don’t know my limits yet — fortunately. Tomorrow I might finally break apart. Who knows?!

All I can do is keep walking, I suppose.

Life is pain, indeed.

However, may this serve today as an example of my resilience to it.





“Are you really here, or am I dreamin’?
I can’t tell dreams from truth
For it’s been so long since I have seen you
I can hardly remember your face anymore

When I get really lonely
And the distance causes only silence
I think of you smiling
With pride in your eyes
A lover that sighs”

Why do I still cry? What is there to miss?

I just want to get some sleep… If you’re there, just give me that. One night; that’s all I ask.

Dear mr. Sagan


“Extinction is the rule; survival is the exception”.

You couldn’t have been more accurate, mr. Sagan. That’s precisely why you’re the man.

So far I’m here. Does that make me a “fighter”? Does that mean I’m strong?

‘Cause I feel weak, mr. Sagan. I feel worthless, useless and small. I don’t feel worthy of the air I breathe nor of the food I eat nor of the water I drink. Not even of the little attention and affection I get.

You have poetically, yet scientifically, more than once, showed us how vast is the universe. Still, I feel lost and misplaced, like I don’t belong.

You have told us we are tiny, and nothing but stardust–an incredible and significant combination of stardust, though. Yet, I feel like an obstacle, such a big heavy stone, on my own way and on the way of others.

I would like to have a word with you, mr. Sagan. Something tells me you would understand.

I promise I would try to be brief, and I would carefully choose my words, so I wouldn’t waste your time. Because I, more than frequently, feel as if I’m wasting my own.

I don’t know why I have survived. This remains as a big mystery to me. But I guess it makes sense, though, haha, since I’m always breaking the rules. However, I’d like to follow them, at least this time.

I’m tired of “surviving”–especially if I can’t actually live. So why holding on?

I think it’s time to let go.

With Capital L

I’m a creep

I’m a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don’t belong here…


Sometimes I feel like I’m such a waste–of healthy cells, organs, space, oxygen, energy, money, attention…

So it gets harder and harder (the more I fail) to feel as if I actually deserve anything good in my life.

… then I feel like I’m such a dramaqueen. So I ask myself “is it a matter of ‘deserving’? Isn’t it, maybe, just luck or something else?”.

It’s not that I don’t cherish those good moments, ‘cause I really, really do! But, as soon as something goes wrong, my brain tells me “of course it’s a flop/it’s over! How could you think otherwise, loser?!”.

And that is precisely how I feel in so many moments: like a loser. With capital L.

I feel so lonely, crazy and lost; the more I feel it, the less I feel like involving other people into it.

… so the loneliness proceeds on feeding on itself.

I really wish someone could see through all this and give me a hand. But I know people can’t, since the armor is too thick. At the same time, I don’t see why or how taking it off.

Perhaps I should ask for help… I was learning how to do it, how to let my guard down… Big mistake… BIG MISTAKE.

I fell to my knees, once again. But now I’m too tired and torn apart. And I’m not sure I wanna risk being there ever again.

It had been a while, but, today, I hallucinated again. It’s so scary, sad and solitary in this place where I seem to fall.

If I can’t even trust myself, how can I trust anyone else?!


Maybe I just shouldn’t.