Fecho a porta, dia velho. Um banho bom, sem mais mistérios. Anoiteço só, sem medos, enredos, contemplando cortinas em nó, abraçadas, aguardando o pó das gargalhadas sujas de um despertador.
How is it, when we cannot escape?
When life assumes so incredibly huge proportions that one simply cannot stop it?
That is us, when masks remain for so long over our faces that we forget what is under it.
And here comes my solution: one should appear naked on a blind spot and ask oneself: how do I stack up now?
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