It is so sad, bothering my soul tired of chasing after peace and rest. There are so many disappointments, failures, negative results of an unsuccessful search. My days are eternal hours of suffering and discontent, I feel powerless to believe in a better future.

I look like someone who has been dead for a long time, but insists on walking among the living, even without life. I am like a dry tree, without roots, leaves and fruits. I am like a straw that burns and turns to ashes, blown afterwards by the strong winds that arise from the four corners of the earth.

Throwing all my little, almost imperceptible particles into the air. I feel a lump in my throat, a tightness in my chest and a sour taste in my mouth. This lonely way of living is slowly killing me like cancer in my bones. My blood circulates through my cold veins.

It is propelled slowly by my body as if it is giving up to keep me alive. A deep revolt burns in me that undoes the few perspectives that I still have to see changing the damn luck that I have brought with me since the day I was born.

I hate the world where I live, the people around me, the things that surround me, even the air I breathe. The sounds that I hear bother me, seem like powerful horns that pop my ears with their notes too high to bear. I hate all the voices I hear, coming out of wicked mouths. The false delicacies of hypocrites, the malicious proposals of self-serving and deceitful people. Even the talk of the most sincere and humble people I despise.

I hate the promises made by the powerful, the folly of those who still believe in them ... This damn anguish continues to suck the faith that I already had to believe in tomorrow, to believe that I was able to change everything in front of me. Of the certainty that God exists and will soon take some action regarding the decadence of this corrupted generation to put an end to this evil that spreads around the world. I hate love and hope. I feel disgusted with those who still dream of being happy because all I see growing is destruction.

It grows too much and out of control, destroying everything in front of you. I became that man without belief, without hope, without self-love. Perhaps everyone is right in saying that I am hopeless. A failure and cowardly bag at the feet of the destiny that chose to screw me with so many disappointments. Perhaps it is right to call me weak and insignificant, some fret that bowed its head at the first sign of trial.

That he was not able to fight to stand before my opponents. A fearful man who is frightened by his own shadow, a fugitive from the tests that I was summoned to pass. But, in my defense, I can say that if I find myself fallen and hurt, thrown to the ground, it is because I stumbled on my naivety.

 To think that loving someone with all my heart would lead anyone to be happy. I was unaware of the fact that we should not give our feelings into the hands of those who know little or almost nothing. That love can become an atomic bomb that will implode within us if we do not know how to choose whom to love.

I was nothing more than a nerd, an insane person facing the possibility of hurting myself in the amorous adventures that I lived with women whose intentions were evil. Completely ruthless. My mistake was to believe the absurd idea of ​​perfect love, to blindly trust the dream of a lasting union.

 It was being a complete idiot that he loved with all the strength that existed in his being without assessing the risks and consequences of this absurd decision. As a result, I ended up thrown into the gutter with deep scars. Loving is good, it makes us feel stronger, more valuable as a person, more complete.

However, if we love in the wrong way we can end up with the wounded and extended heart in the first ditch of the nearest corner. Mine looks more like a sieve of so many holes given by those who did not know how to value me. I have the inability to know how to choose my loves correctly and I end up taking it in the face, I am slapped continuously without being able to react, because I open the door and allow myself to be humiliated.

Recently I took that one out of that vulgar tomboy, without even declaring myself formally - Mare of the vacillation that I gave! This is what makes it possible to open the guard for these despicable, they find themselves! As soon as they are desired, they kick like wild asses.

On one occasion someone quoted the following phrase: He who lowers himself lets his shame appear. In fact, this has always been my biggest flaw, wanting to give value to those who didn't even deserve my attention. But I am learning my lesson, these sluts will find no more space in my life, the doors of my heart will be closed to them from now on.

  Instead of love and passion I will offer you hatred and contempt, I will be your worst enemy, I will wish that the worst evil falls on you. I tried to love them in my innermost being, I wanted to give them my life, and they just despised me. I hate each one of them !!! I observe through the wide gaps in the walls of the wooden shack that another day has passed. Another night is approaching, I have been trapped in this immense void for several weeks.

Not in the mood for anything, not even to leave this disgusting shack. Or at least spend a few minutes sitting in the leather-covered iron chair. The same one I bought from some street vendor or to watch people who routinely pass from side to side.  Coming or going to the same places. Their hurried steps show how much they lead a life full of anxieties.

The human being is dissatisfied with himself and with everything he has achieved so far, he always wants more, he never gets fed up.In this way, they become slaves to work because of their own materialistic ambitions, because they give more importance to consumer goods than their inner world. To the spiritual growth necessary to find the true peace that they need. But that they seek in the wrong way. Modern man seeks riches with a single purpose, to sustain the lust and pleasures that feed his self.

I can even be mentioned as a classic example of this, after all, I followed this same consumerist reasoning. And look how I find myself, dry with feelings, cold, emotionally dead, similar to a concrete column. This was the end result in the face of so many frustrations, for the countless times that it allowed me to believe in what was just an illusion.

 It is late, past midnight, and only the dew falls gently on the plants in the gardens of the poor people of the favela, made of a small fence of sticks. In it, some red daisies, surrounded by grass, taking the place of green grass. Alongside you can see the cool breeze that, throwing itself on the roof, breaks the silence along with a strong wind that suddenly decided to bother me. Together they hit the sides of the old shack where I live.

 In a little while the rays of the star of fifth magnitude will expel the darkness of the cold dawn. They will illuminate with all their supreme star authority the earth's surface and that forgotten corner where I hide. Gosh, sleep is good, nothing! I am condemned to live thrown in some corner of this heap of hell — Hell! — wearing dark colored shorts, similar to the loneliness that surrounds me from head to toe. I feel constrained to admit that I really am that plague of a man without any chance of seeing things change course.

Going in a direction where it is possible to find the woman of my dreams. I became a real pessimist about it. I disbelieve that there may be a woman for me who understands my mistakes. Helps me fix my failures, move on side by side with me. May it teach me how to make correct choices so that we can accomplish the impossible together.

 Of all the passions lived, the last was the worst. I surrendered in such a way that when the mask of the rascal fell, the pain felt was so immense that it became the deepest of my being. Yes, becoming aware of this was not easy, I languished when I saw gradually dying all the projects made for that life together.  Being aware of the betrayal on the part of those we love is the same as feeling a very sharp sword penetrating mercilessly into the heart. Tearing it into various parts so tiny that it is impossible to restore it.

The love he felt for her immediately turned into a revolt that was never overcome. I was bitter inside. And that tremendous bitterness led me to decide never to believe in love, no matter how big it was, came from where it came from, left where it left. It would be false and eternally impure to me. I chose to spend the rest of my damn existence alone, without any pretense of complete and definitive surrender.

The opposite sex came to be seen by me only as fun, I would spit on the floor whenever a disgrace in a skirt crossed my path. I gave up respect for these demons, after all, I need them only to relieve my carnal desires. In my view, they were nothing more than walking sperm deposits. Yes, I revolted. I hated them all equally, because I endured the biggest disappointment of all, but I did not choose to follow the terrible example of some who decided to commit murders against those who were unfaithful to them.

Nor did I commit suicide, annihilating myself, because despite all that damn luck I still love the gift of living — Live life! — As a product of this total failure in my attempts to achieve happiness, I decided to punish myself for so many wrong choices.

 After all, who was to blame for so many mistakes if not mine? The punishment for such idiocy was private imprisonment. Today I am a prisoner, locked inside that cubicle for an indefinite period. Maybe even I feel even with myself. Surrendering your heart in a loving relationship is a huge mistake. I always knew that, but I insisted on not taking it seriously.

But, finally it seems that I have learned. And if I didn't learn worse for myself, because I will continue to suffer worse and worse disappointments than the previous ones. The woman has been our destruction since the beginning of creation, because of them kings and empires fell, all of humanity today is condemned to death.

Because of your acts of disobedience. What can we expect from them other than that, shame and sadness? — What a pest! — I got hit too much in the face and hurt my chest too much when I related to these pricks. All servants of the demon. I am a living witness to how poisonous they are. Luckily I escaped with life from the noose they threw around my neck.

Yes, I survived, but with serious consequences. I became incredulous, unable to believe that a man could extract something that deserves attention from them. It made me hungry, I will prepare something to feed myself, after all, an empty bag does not stand up.

 Damn, in the fridge I can only find bottles with water and some leftover food left over from previous days, full of fungi and rotten. This is a real dump here, any normal person could not bear to even get close. Is a man's house really like that, all this dirt?

I don't think so, there are some really good guys with this housework thing. I do not give for this type of thing, in my opinion a man who is a male has no passion for pots, this is for women — And these effeminate, food fans! — Now there's no way, I have to get out of this filthy hole and put my ugly face outside.

And after several weeks locked in that cubicle, I am going to circulate again through the streets of this poor neighborhood. And infested with rats that run from side to side, coming from filthy sewers, almost tripping over our feet and covered in rotten mud. This, without considering the narrow streets, the dozens of villages that seem more like an endless tenement.

All made of wood that under the sun and rain have rotted and allow us to see its interiors. I stand at the exit of the narrow door, watching the danger lurking around the four corners of the alley that is tapering off. This is due to the disordered construction of the shacks. After passing the key in the lock, I stride off towards Seu Vicente's tavern to buy some goodies.

For me, a man who is a victim of chronic lack of appetite because of the many disappointments that life has caused me, is enough. It is more practical to feed myself with things that can be easily digested. In the small, but very busy shop, I decide to stop in front of a refrigerator. From those where ice cream and other foods are kept, where I get my weekly fair. — No meat!

So little any type of cereal that it is necessary to take it to the fire — ah, the wine! — How could I forget the one thing that keeps me alive, alcohol? Without that poison in my veins to numb my brain and erase.

 At least for a while, the painful memories of the bitter past lived in the past, how would I survive? A long time ago it would have put an end to such heartbreak. Maybe it was because I remained drunk and because my world stopped, everything around has never changed and I have the distinct impression that everything is going well, so I can survive such a misfortune. If I looked directly at the reality that surrounds me, the poverty and misery that hover around me, the pit of failures where I find myself fallen, hurt by the disillusionment of unrequited loves.

From dreams never lived and projects that never left the mental sketch, I would have gone crazy for sure. So I prefer the strong drink, the drunkenness completely, to be thrown to the floor, numbing my soul so as not to face the frustrations. They who, like stones, got in my way and made my staggering steps stumble. They who, guided by an uncontrolled desire, went towards an abyss of endless passion.

Well, better to put aside these daydreams without a future and go to the cashier to pay that pile of goodies — what the fuck, how many people! — The queue is huge and I stayed last. How many should be here, fifty or more customers?  Who gets along is the merchant who sells everything cheaper than the big supermarkets earn a lot.But none of this is for nothing, the talk that goes on here is that he works for the drug trade.

They launder the dirty money acquired by selling drugs in shops like this, scattered around the neighborhood. In addition to the fact that these food products sold below market cost come from the theft of cargo from carriers.

By the gangs. But who cares about that? After all, in a country where the authorities are corrupt and those who should set good examples are the first to rob the nation, why not take advantage of the situation, since everyone does the same? Brazil has become one of the biggest references in violence, corruption and impunity worldwide.

Only here do we kill, steal, illegally seize public money and get away with the crimes committed. As long as you have enough economic power to bribe judges and pay good lawyers' fees to defend against charges, it all ends up in pizzas. The three powers that govern this country are being led by corrupt politicians and judges, who have sold themselves to the drug trade.

  They became corrupted in the exchange of influences, in the sole objective of keeping their bank accounts always full of bribes. This is the sad reality in which we find ourselves. Without considering that inside the heart of each Brazilian the pain is greater, because there is no peace for those who live without hope —Next in line, please!

Damn, I got lost in my thoughts that I ended up forgetting where I am, in an immense cashier line. There are few times that I appear in public that the other residents of the neighborhood have the impression that I am from another area, that I am not part of the community.

This can actually become very risky, because the traffickers here in the shanty town don't like strange people. Even less circulating in the neighborhood, they really stick with it. The trickery here has a certain code of conduct that prohibits robbing the neighborhood.

When there are robberies or crimes around here, it is certainly that crowd from other places. And if they are caught, they pay with their lives for the insult. So, if they mistake me for a stranger, they can assault me ​​or send me seven hands. Things in places like this are not easy, we should be very cautious at all — Fifty reais, sir!

  It is the cashier's wife who has a loud voice to chip any absurd ear, more than fifty reais for a few things. And look that things are much cheaper here than in other places. Where are we going to stop inflation rising like that, day after day. Decreasing the purchasing power of the worker and pushing the wage earner more and more towards misery.

All because of these ambitious and corrupt politicians. Well, the media shows that most of those involved are behind bars. But we know that in this country the corruption practiced by the powerful ends in nothing. In this world, money is power and anyone who enjoys it can do everything in this materialistic society.

Where to accumulate wealth is paramount, regardless of its origins, honest or not. I stride in this ditch for fear of assault by the tramps. They are always on call waiting to take what little we have. Even with the rule that people in the community cannot be victims of the unemployed here. Even so, there are those who disobey the rules of trafficking here and there and go on to robbery in the face. Because of that, in the mornings some hams are thrown down the alleys with their mouths full of ants.

 — Well, look, at last the disappeared decided to show up on the street!

 — Good morning, Mrs. Vera!

 This one needs no comments, the number one gossip in the neighborhood. It gives news of the life of others like no one! Miserable of that man she still insists on calling her husband. He looks more like a puppy with a collar around his neck and everything. Poor devil. Finally at home. I will spend another long time in my isolation, this cubicle with almost no space, but that's what I have left.

I was, in the past, a man financially wealthy and with a professional future of envy, well guaranteed. My mistake is to have a weak heart for women, I fall in love easily and I always fail. After several sentimental failures and constant abandonment, I fell into a deep depression and revolt. Today, I hate everything that is part of that damned reality in which I find myself.

 I hate people, I can't stand attention or just hear their voice. I do not insist on having the friendship of anyone. Neither do they realize my presence or not when I am among them. I don't like modern music. Especially the noisiest ones that make an apology to crime or sensuality, like the funk, who came down from the hills of Rio and spread throughout the Four corners of the country like a plague or an audible virus. This new musical wave pollutes our ears with low and threatening lyrics. For this reason I do not need sound equipment, the monstrous sound systems that make my life hell are enough. With so much noise made at the various parties that take place on weekends, no one can sleep properly. In this end of the world where the authorities responsible for the control of noise pollution do not even show up.

It is even understandable, because all these events are paid for by the drug lords and nobody is crazy to face them. And at the end of the day, we are really screwed, poor devils, unworthy to deserve even a peaceful night's sleep. If anyone could hear my thoughts I would certainly say that I am some kind of madman or at the very least I would be branded revolted.

Yes, I would easily accept the second title. After all, I am really deeply bitter and averse to everything around me. Is it my fault there if life decided to screw with me and launched so many failures on me? Damn existence with no future! From an early age the doors seemed to close for me. At school I was beaten up by the other big guys and the girls despised me for being too fat.

I've never been very good in relationships. And when I invented to experience love, I ended up falling in love with the wrong women. Since that first episode, it seems to have triggered a sequence of sentimental failures. There were many failures in my dull little life. There were two more amorous disappointments in a row, one worse than the other.

And along with the same package came the loss of my great job with a hefty salary. But that's how it is. I had to suffer all those misfortunes to finally realize that things don't work out the way we want, that's how it has to be.Modern women are not looking for romantic and passionate men, they have left aside romanticism and are looking for superficial relationships.

Detached from seriousness. They see love as weakness and give more importance to passion and sex. live the motto: It is Worth While it Lasts.The fashion now is to venture here and there.

 With one and the other, totally detached from any serious commitment. After losing everything and having my bank account canceled due to lack of funds. I had to run to the invasion areas in the hope of acquiring a piece of land. Only then could I build at least one shack, where I could live and avoid ending up living in the gutter.

Or, who knows, fallen on the filthy streets of this immense city, like many others. It seems that such an explanation could be a consolation in the face of the current situation in which I find myself. I hate my miserable life and without any prospect of change. I hate to live in a country dominated by corruption and impunity in all sectors of society. I sometimes wish that the two atomic bombs dropped on Japan during World War II would have been here.

Soon, that corrupt nation would have been wiped out and I could have been born elsewhere. Maybe in the United States or anywhere else in Europe. I even think that being born in Africa or Ethiopia would be more future. Despite, of course, these nations are being consumed by hunger. Even so, it would be better than in this filth where social rights are denied and the people are deceived by their rulers day and night — Or perhaps I am exaggerating to the extreme.

Meanwhile, the authorities who were supposed to defend them deny that protection. Being ashamed embarrasses me. Obviously, the land is not to blame for its inhabitants becoming corrupt and unjust. But, remembering what God said to Adam after his fall in the garden of Eden, I begin to understand things better. I understand that it is because of the Brazilian himself that Brazil sinks more and more

After all, we reap the fruit of what we sow and if we sow evil in our actions we will not obtain any result other than wickedness and destruction. Wouldn't it be an ideal time to reflect on our attitudes and try to change the current reality? If we started to live with more dignity, sowing more love and justice, wouldn't our tomorrow be with less violence and death?

 But look who's here reflecting on the hope of a better future, so I lost faith in everything. Perhaps my biggest problem is the frustration of not having fulfilled the dream of achieving great love. Of those that only exist in fairy tales.

 And with that, I became bitter, angry, impatient with certain situations in life. Maybe I should see a psychologist to vent my disappointments and maybe learn how to heal the wounds that left deep scars, the same ones that start in the heart and reach the very depths of my being.

Or, who knows, you should consult a psychiatrist, because I've been talking to myself and from what I know, this is the first sign of madness — Damn canned! — I hate those braces placed on the side of the canned ones in order to open them, they cause a huge sacrifice when trying to rotate them.

 And many times they hurt the fingers of those who venture to use them. Who will be the idiot who had the bad idea of ​​creating this drug? To top it off, I ended up bleeding my finger without success. Every backward country is like that, chipped! They say that during the past government we were placed among the countries of the first world. But what an outright lie! Since when could this be possible in the face of the shameful reality we live in?

We are, at present, a nation with more than thirteen million unemployed and with the worst rate of economic growth of all time. Where basic things for society, such as health, education, housing and security do not exist. How could such a country be part of the first world? We are in fact at the lowest point of global underdevelopment. We are a world reference in corruption, injustice and impunity. A shame.

Of course, very few Brazilians would agree with me on this matter, most still love this country infected by political corruption, pretending to be blind. Subdued by laws that defend only the most powerful. The unfair way in which our authorities govern Brazil throws the poorest social classes into the sewer of impunity, misery and social abandonment.

Bunch of imbeciles, dreamers and idealists! Despite living under the whip of those who gut their guts every day, they still believe that they are the only solution to all the social problems that afflict us. They forget that it was this gang of evildoers that sank Brazil economically.

They are solely responsible for the chaos in which we find ourselves. I am indignant to see and hear these patriots defending this or that political party, claiming that it will solve things. Since when has any politician been well intentioned to the point of worrying about this nation? What they are looking for is an opportunity to approach the chest where the National Treasury is kept. They intend to steal as much as possible and benefit themselves and their families. For these lalaus, the Brazilians are chipped! Why defend this or that political party if they are all flour from the same bag?

 I am not going to waste my time placing trust in white-collar bandits, if God does not have compassion for these people, no one else will. And be careful, because religions are as corrupted as politics. When I say that only God to give us any help I am serious, the thing is black.

And I'm talking about the Creator of heaven and earth, not of these religious leaders and their doctrines of prosperity, where only they prosper and the people are chipping away more and more. Everything is lost even in this dog world.

The people looking to the right are the political butchers skinning the worker and crushing the poor part of society. On the left, false prophets can be seen deceiving their faithful with vain words of deception, selling the gifts of God, their healings and miracles. Behind come the powerful cruelly to step on the heads of the weak.

 And ahead, we can contemplate the tragic end of this generation that goes blindly towards nowhere — Poor devils! — Finally I finished preparing this unfortunate treat, now I have to send it down my throat and try to kill this terrible hunger that gnaws at me like a cancer inside.

It took, but the hunger returned and I will take the opportunity to feed this body that has suffered a lot of deprivation. Damn situation, a single man has his advantages and disadvantages, if he had a wife to prepare my meals it would be great. At least I wouldn't have to stay here in this hellish hassle. Well, I know that my view of marriage is not the most acceptable for feminists, but for me women are to take care of household chores.

Meanwhile man goes to the stop to earn daily bread. I am wrong? Damn it, I'm really macho, so what? I am still alive and I think as my grandfather and dad said, what a woman's place is in the kitchen.

Certainly, with all this modernity, he would live in conflict in the relationship, if he were married. For the women now want to have the same rights as us men, and no longer accept short reins. But with me this modernism doesn't work, if you want to be my wife you will have to lower the crest, obeying my orders.

I grew up watching my mother strictly following my father's orders, without arguing. And that is right. In a marriage the man speaks and the woman listens in silence, he commands and she obeys. In a family we are the head and our companions are the tail. Without this feminism. Since the dawn of civilizations, women have served men and not the other way around. It is ridiculous for these guys in the kitchens to assume the role of the ladies, preparing lunch and dinner.

While they are spending huge amounts in beauty salons and with fancy clothes in shopping malls. This is when they are not chatting at friends' houses or in motels with lovers. Look, I was not born for that kind of nonsense. If I am to live in front of a stove, cooking like a tremendous stick, I prefer to stay as I am now, alone. At least I will not be, besides a doormat, a meek horn. I'm sitting on that hard, dirty floor again. — What the hell!  — I hear a beautiful song that is playing in the bar next door. It is a type of bar where papudinhos from the area gather to take their drops at the end of the day.

The music is good to hear and does not bother, despite the high volume and only talking about horns. It is the type that only works for those who, like me and the other regulars of the place, were victims of the betrayal of naughty women. The king of Brega is the most played, the crowd loves it - Especially now that the guy has kicked his boots! - then comes the others singing the same things. Perhaps because they were also victimized by the same misfortune or simply because they knew how to earn money by singing to alleviate or increase the misfortune of others.

 The truth is that there is nothing better to hear when what we have left in life is missing what we have lost. I loved too much who did not deserve it and left the relationship with my heart in tatters. Only those who have been through such misfortune are able to understand such suffering. People who were beaten too much by their damned fate, which prevented them from being happy.

And with that they can no longer cry even in the saddest hours, because their eyes are dry, there are no more tears to wet their faces. In my opinion, there is nothing more remarkable than a song heard at an opportune time. And the one I hear now brings me back to the farthest part of my bitter and empty existence. Then I mix strong drink with the memories of my past and the homesickness increases to the point that I almost can't take it.

My eyes are filled with tears when I hear the romance of old songs. And the urge to fill my face until I fall. This is, without a doubt, the first reaction of a man in love whenever something allows him to go back in time. And remember what he lived, especially what hurt him greatly.

A bottle of the original Smirnoff Wodka. It was bought at the drugstore market for a trifle of ten reais, when the real price is fifteen. My disposition is here by my side and in it I drown my sorrows in its forty percent alcohol content. Since my world started to collapse, I can't face reality for long. I prefer to lose myself in the deception provided by alcohol. That makes me think that everything is going wonderfully. I like to get drunk, numb and forget about the miserable life I have left.

 Another song starts playing in the bar's shrill sound. The walls made of loose boards have gaps that allow a fatter mouse to pass. Also allowing the sound to come through the wind to my ears. That way it is possible for me to hear from here the voices of cachaça drinkers who speak so loudly that they can be heard around the corner.

About five hundred meters from where we are. They are men from different parts of this favela and with the most varied stories of pain and suffering. Society criticizes people like them and me, condemning us for making us drinkers. Alcoholics, see us as mere losers. But what the vast majority of not know is that we are not cowards, weak individuals who have given up fighting for their ideals, we are, rather, people who have fought as far as we could.

We insist as much as possible to achieve our dreams. However, due to the will or coincidence of fate, we always found donkeys in the water. Everything went wrong and we never hit the target. We don't run away from the fight, we are not afraid and weak. Only disgusted with everything and everyone, even with God, whom we believe we have forgotten and abandoned to our own fate.

Hell! Why are we in the habit of pointing fingers at people and judging them for their wrongdoing? Shouldn't we instead try to understand and help them? Perhaps we do this because we feel somewhat superior to others. This is a human error that has always existed. The most powerful always stepping on the least favored.

In this case, I, as well as those who were also victimized by loving the wrong people too much, are the least worthy of compassion. But, are we really victims? Are there any wrong loves or are our choices the worst possible? Of course, yes! We suffer for insisting on a relationship completely opposite to what we are and we seek in this life.

So the women I gave my heart to weren't really the monsters I used to paint? Of course, but I was also wrong not to get to know more in depth who they really were. What happened is that I chose to love them without first checking to see if they, too, were on the same wavelength. Willing to live the same feeling that out of idiocy or immaturity I created within myself. It was as if the other person I fell in love with had a duty to feel and live the same silly dream of love.

The stupid feeling that I idealized and turned into an absurd goal. After all, just because someone loves me am I forced to love them just as much?But what a terrible asshole could he think like that? — Only a fool like me to demand it from someone. Sometimes, when I stop and think about the stupid way I behaved in the relationships I had previously, I feel ashamed of myself. How can anyone be so innocent?

To the point of believing in this conversation of eternal love? Everything in this life is fleeting, it passes as fast as it started to exist. Hell, human existence itself is temporary and ends in a short space of time. Too bad I understood just now, too late. Well, they are without a doubt the greatest loves I could have. I believe that no other woman will fill the void that they left in my heart, because it is a tremendous hole.

 A huge void. Ah, but what a wonderful song I started listening to, right now I’m not even going to think about sleeping. I prefer to spend all morning listening to these beautiful songs that speak of love and, certainly, of the many disappointments that men like me suffer from loving too much. I will not dare to leave the shack and go to infiltrate the papudinhos that are outside drinking and playing billiards.

 They don't even know me. And showing up there like that would suddenly be just another big nonsense. Better to keep enjoying my pit right here. I'll hitch a ride on the songs they give me for free, without realizing it. I will get up for a moment to empty the bladder that is spilling from being so full. It has been many hours since I started drinking and one of these days I saw on TV that it causes sexual impotence.

 It was just what I lacked, besides being lonely and unlucky in love, I became a damn helpless in bed. What not, no way. Cool, empty bladder. Now just go back to your routine. Listening to music for horn and fill your face with wodka. Interesting what happens after the heart is disappointed and loses confidence in people.

After I took it so many times, I deeply disbelieved the opposite sex. For me all women are nothing but a bunch of treacherous bitches unworthy of my attention. Yes, I know that I seem unfair in generalizing things. Not all people are the same and certainly there should still be some out there to take advantage of. But the devil is that to find one of them becomes almost impossible.

After all, in my bitter opinion it is one in a thousand that deserves to be seen with good eyes. I myself do not risk putting my trust in a skirt. The worst thing is having to endure the fire by burning my limbs. I walk on the rock, it's been a long time since I went to bed with a bitch — Hell! — The way is to improvise.

Masturbation is the only way out at the moment and it will happen right now. Such a craze since he was a teenager, when one of the many girls in the neighborhood did not take off, who, despite his young age, had already been working. He used this ancient tactic of releasing hormones. Now the thing has gotten ugly here, in addition to being quite drunk.

My sharp tool of forced labor that says it, is here, on fire! I wonder if this situation persists over the years, how will I end after all this physical wear and tear? I know some who were so disappointed with the women ended up inverting the poles with other guys — God forbid! — Perhaps many people criticize me because I felt disgusted by these homosexuals who go around licking around street corners, in my opinion they are just mentally ill. Now, where have you seen a male or a female licking herself with others of the same sex? But what filth!

I participated in a lot of dirty with my last bride. It was just naughtiness, we got high with the use of so much drugs. I don't even know if any male dared to catch me, but I remember never consciously getting involved with another man, I think that's filthy.

Because I prefer to masturbate than having to make out with another guy, this is too humiliating. Well, but now that there are even laws supporting this little shame, who am I to judge. This world is upside down and it will not be my opinion that will change things.

 Besides, there are dozens of others that I should be concerned with instead of trying to understand certain choices of those who want to live by practicing immorality. For these depraved people, sex is not synonymous with love, but orgies. Not that I am a saint, I have even practiced some of these sexual follies. But I don't remember reversing the papers on the bed.

My goodness, the neighbor's cock started to sing, it is already dawn and I sat here all night. Listening to the songs of the king of Brega and drinking this plague of German cachaça that burns the throat like pepper. Well, since the day has dawned and there's no sign of sleep, I'm going to take a shower and watch TV, try to find a program that interests me.