1st June, 2025 — Bebenny has grownth past his rat-looking phase and now resembles a deer, more like a fat fawn. Psaml 46. A grandpa said I had a voice of a ten-year-old girl. I think it was a compliment. Priest D gifted me a jar with a type of goiaba sweet that he was gifted earlier (he is avoiding sugar). Slept during lunch, ate leftover pizza later. I feel better today, did some studying, math as always. Wanted to go to the beach, but it's just me, Benny and God at home. Maybe tomorrow.
26th May, 2025 — A heavy lump on my throat, choking me. Silently while eating dinner, warm tears — couldn't you tell that I've been crying over you?
25th May, 2025 — Yesterday, shouted at Mom in the car, on the way to the mall. I don't want to talk about college, or how what I am doing right now is not enough. I recognize now that this has become a very sensitive topic for me, a tender bruise people like to press their fingers on in curiosity. Mom woke me up way too early for Mass. Tired, headache, made me give up on going to the beach despite already changing clothes. During a car ride, I told Mom that headaches are common symptons of brain tumors. She does not like to say "cancer", in her words 'it will invite bad things'. A minister of our parish died on Saturday, & when I heard the news and realized who was, I suddently got very very very sad. A brown moth resting on the white curtains. Ate breakfast with the ministers at the parish: pink salad, dark and bitter grape juice, butter cake & arab bread.
24th May, 2025 — Fingertips that taste like iron after playing the guitar — dented and flushed. A lime green car parket where I can see it from the balcony's lower window.
22th May, 2025 — Sore all over, pain while walking, lying down, moving. Mom (Delivered at 6:17 PM): [photo] Do you think you're ugly?
14th May, 2025 — Problems with drugs? A girl with a rubik's cube is sitting beside me on the train. Bikes parked on the station's railing. The trains are already decorated for São João.
11th May, 2025 — George's Full Moon outside my bedroom window. Woke up after the alarm today.
5th May, 2025 — Yellow flowers blooming. The sound of parakeets while walking towards the station.
4th May, 2025 — The night before Brother left for the countryside, he came to my room and asked for help flushing a cockroach down the toilet.
27th April, 2025 — Exhausted—I always wake up at 5:30AM. Outside the faculty, two big dark vultures keeping watch. Inside, running nose & headache from the AC blast. After the five hours of test, alone on a dark sidewalk waiting for the Uber.
26th April, 2025 — Nose clogged from the freezing cold AC. The taste of bread & good doce de leite on my tongue. While exiting the plane, a woman with a One Piece hoodie. Blinding phone brightness in the darkness of the hotel room. [...] the tendency of a body in circular movement is to leave in a straight line—the result of the work (W) is zero.
25th April, 2025 — A group of ducks flying in circles, aimlessly—one of them kept being left behind.
23th April, 2025 (Saint George's day) — Found my lost ladybug earring & wore it today in support of Ivy. A classmate took a candid photo of me stroking Calico cat (who was on my lap) & said it was very Pinterest-y. Got a 10 on my Digital Circuits Test.
20th April, 2025 (Pascha) — Watched Diary of a Country Priest (1951) with Michael & Ivy.
15th April, 2025 — The smell of raw meat inside my father's car. Mom dropped it on the backseat mats after grocery shopping. White cat hair clinging to my dark clothing. The dying glow, soft and beautiful in its flatness, of the afternoon light.
12th April, 2025 — Unproductivity. Loud chatter from the pool of the building next to my apartment. Had a weird dream about a big birthday party with stray cats on a runway.
11th April, 2025 — Discomfort from full bladder for an ultrasound. Confessions and guilt.
9th April, 2025 — During the train ride, the sickening-sweet smell of rot.
8th April, 2025 — A cat on my lap, the sun on my back.
3rd April, 2025 — Professor gave me a candy as a birthday gift. Got a good grade on a test I thought I would fail.
31st March, 2025 — Dad says a pigeon flew into his windshield (I'm sorry, Pigeon). Forgot the church night Camila invited me to yesterday, because of everything—I saw her messages just this morning at the faculty. Letters, warmth. Cramps, nausea. Cryingtrain, feeling.
30th March, 2025 — Lost my right eye contact lenses. Beach salt water. Vitamin D made me happier.
29th March, 2025 — While kneeling after communion, wobbly vision on my left eye; at the end of Mass, drops of holy water clinging to my glasses’ left lenses. When the Priest D told us that today's parable was the Prodigal Son I wanted to laugh. My mother's earlier message: She looks sad.
27th March, 2025 — Camila braided my hair. Calico slept on my lap between classes. Learned how to make rice.
24th March, 2025 — A crack on the train window that resembled a flower. Mental fog from lack of sleep, mostly my fault, partially Benny's. When I walked to another end of the platform, one of my classmates who shares the same ride came in my direction while waiting for the train & I turned back around. I was relieved he didn't sit in my wagon this morning—surface social interactions are painful ('a drag', as Shikamaru would put) and I just want to listen to music and stare unseeinly and mindless at the outside after waking up so early, even though I feel slighly bad. Had a dream Brother almost died because of chasing someone trying to steal our car (he didn't). Asked Dad during the car ride if he would choose dying inside the Titanic from drowning or from hypothermia outside—his answer: I can't choose, you only know this things when they happen. Mine: Hypothermia.
23th March, 2025 — Dad and I were very disappointed by the ending of Adolescence.
23th March, 2025 — New soap bar (pink). Waking up at six, getting up at seven. Had a dream about seeing the sunrise from my window full of pinks, yellows & purple-blues. Today the train had voice assistance, reading the stops out loud with the robotic female voice. From the window: birds flying, blue-distant-mountains, a siege (the collective of herons) on a group of trees. A station named Hope. Black and white cows on a field, eating.
21th March, 2025 — Three Uno games before class (lost all of them). A Shiba Inu eraser just like Aysha (my Shiba Inu Plushie, 'with love, a gift from Mara'). The cross on top of a church backed by fluffy clouds. Brother showed me a Brawl Stars' character designed like poop (Poop Spike). Walked a lot with the unforgiving sun on my back, sweat covered shirt. Dad tricked me saying that he had eaten the leftover pastels for breakfast during the car ride (he didn't). Lying on the hammock after a while. Dead headsets.
21th March, 2025 — A cute bird crossed my path to the station. A small spider on the wall. Mg12 written on a column with a generic blue marker color. Leaves pattern on the door of the bathroom stall. Songs (Get Me Away From Here I'm Dying by Belle and Sebastian & Auld Lang Syne by Surfjan Stevens) on repeat during the trainride. My faded Freshwater Sport Fish poster has come off one end. Seeing construction machinery being used during lunchtime while eating. Discussion about purê (pirê) with a french accent instead of just purê (mashed potatoes) that escalated to abajur (lampshade) and perfume. Two hours trying to print documents. Dad brought me pastels at night after I mentioned that I craved them during the car ride back home. A butterfly inside the train, still riding alongside us.