Nor of idyllic landscapes
Or chaotic megalopolis
The homes I build are before
Of something
Memories that materialize
That stand before my eyes
Are places that protect
Of any noise
Everything that is precious;
Just like that Christmas morning
In which my brothers and I call that indie radio
Which no longer exists
To order a song from Jimmy Eat World
And no one picked us up
Because it was a Christmas morning after all…
I will not deal with physical spaces
And describe them every inch
Of the environment that I hope to someday become cozy
Because most of the time
These wild and dreamlike landscapes
They only exist in my head.
This is the only resource I use
When things do not go well;
A feature that adult life
It still has not taken away.
Because you always lack time, money and patience
And is so benevolent in any afternoon
Look at the sky without clouds
Drinking a coke
Listening to Super Furry Animals…
Are simple things that today
Are missing
Such as car headlights
Dividing into yellow and red
Coming home
When I was still in seventh grade
Because they are not physical spaces
That mold me
But the way I see them
And through this perspective
He recreates them by trying to accommodate them in my desires.

Because the safest place
That still exists in this world
It is my own thinking.

By Mariana S.-F., 24, São Paulo, Brazil