Acho que vou parar de escrever aqui no Medium, não porque não gosto de escrever mas pensamentos que eu gostaria de registrar são íntimos demais para serem compartilhados dessa forma. Não que alguém esteja, de fato, lendo o que escrevo, é só aquele sentimento de “vai que…” que me incomoda…


Talvez você já tenha ouvido falar de Gabriel García Márquez, cuja obra “Cem Anos de Solidão” é considerada por muitos um dos melhores livros já escritos. É sobre ele que irei comentar um pouco hoje. Ah, e caso ainda não o tenha lido, não se preocupe, não há spoilers.

Trata-se…


I’ve already lost count of how many times I had to go to some boring grown-up meetings because my parents wouldn’t let me alone at home, not even at the age of 17 or so. I used to believe that, if it wasn’t for college, I’d never have the opportunity…


Primeiramente, perdão pela mudança repentina de idioma, mas alguns textos se adequam melhor a certas línguas do que outras (e é menos trabalhoso para mim).

Esses dias eu estava com uma noia muito grande sobre a minha personalidade, porque se for olhar bem, eu sou uma pessoa diferente para cada…


My parents often complain I’m too serious and that I should smile more, but I never understood this need to look happy all the time, even if I’m not. …


Just did something stupid — maybe unintentionally or maybe not — , apologized for it, now “it’s okay”. I put some music on, look up a nice cake recipe on the internet and start gathering the ingredients. …


I feel like I’ve been complaining way too much in most of my texts, so this one will be specially about the things that bring me joy, and very short too, because I’ve been quite busy this week and it’ll only get worse. …


A few days ago, while lunching with my mom as I usually do, she asked me how I was doing at college, if it was too demanding, if liked the major I chose. I said everything was fine, but I could see she was not satisfied with that answer. …


In the few times I travelled to São Paulo, I always felt quite intimidated by the frenectic pace of those human swarms, the noise of countless lives coming across each other, the enormous buildings leaning over me. Walking by the streets among the busy workers felt like an impersonal, programmed…


Very often I get distracted from what I’m doing and my mind starts to wander while I keep staring intently at a random point in space. However, sometimes there happens to be a person in front of this point and I don’t realize that until they glare back at me.

Mangoes and Milk

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