Colors

The most suffocating is the awareness that nothing is happening. All the veins are drying without the blood running through them. I came to Barão Geraldo because things happen here. Here people love as much as dolls hang themselves and chicken are slaughtered to death. Would I still hang dolls and burn memories in the next 18 years? It astonishes me how less and less I do not care for things that are not my extension. Being my own destruction is the only way. Intimacy is a farewell. All I see is a lot water and all the colors are not enough. All forms of comunication are not enough for a lot of water.