estou viva, então escrevo. espero que algo aqui faça você se sentir vivo também.
Essays, fragments, and whatever insists on being written.
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Ensaios, fragmentos e tudo que não me deixa em paz até virar escrita.
April, 2025 In the convoluted mess that is a Sunday evening mind, I reach for the pen as it reaches for me, and I suppose that’s precisely what I’ve been looking for. It’s difficult to explain. I’ve been hungry for something more, something cathartic with an ethereal hint to it. I’ll settle for something as…
Keep readingOct. 27th, 2025 The feeling does not exchange pleasantries. It does not knock on the door. It does not ask for invitation. It barges in, it stares me down like a wolf eyes a deer. It asks, “what has become of you?” “Where are you?” “How did you get here?” “Do you exist? Do you…
Keep readingWe read people wrong. We leave the light on for people who prefer the dark. We keep our ears glued to the door and jump when we finally hear a knock, only to open it and find the wrong person on the other side. Often enough, we let them in anyway. We kick them out…
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unpleasant conversations