Writings
‘I am Jug and I am juice
wherever I go I am jug and I am juice
I sit still, I pour, I am of use
I empty my contents for others
hoping they will have the kindness
to refill me
I am juice in glass
on display for you today: my insides
I am acid
disguised in artificial sweetening
just enough to allow
to be swallowed
I am self-exported
packaged in dreams of grandeur
from a tree I no longer recognise
for the pleasure
of international mouths
I underestimate
the science necessary
to keep me fresh in my new climate
I take notes, I assimilate, I change my chemistry
but am I doing it right?
I forget what I am, really
can I still distill my essence?
or have I diluted myself
irreversibly?
Juice can’t go back to being orange
glass can’t go back to being sand
the only way is forward
eu sou jarra e eu sou suco
Amen
wherever I go I am jug and I am juice
I sit still, I pour, I am of use
I empty my contents for others
hoping they will have the kindness
to refill me
I am juice in glass
on display for you today: my insides
I am acid
disguised in artificial sweetening
just enough to allow
to be swallowed
I am self-exported
packaged in dreams of grandeur
from a tree I no longer recognise
for the pleasure
of international mouths
I underestimate
the science necessary
to keep me fresh in my new climate
I take notes, I assimilate, I change my chemistry
but am I doing it right?
I forget what I am, really
can I still distill my essence?
or have I diluted myself
irreversibly?
Juice can’t go back to being orange
glass can’t go back to being sand
the only way is forward
eu sou jarra e eu sou suco
Amen
onde quer que eu vá, Eu sou jarra e sou suco.
fico imóvel, sirvo, sou útil
esvazio meu conteúdo para os outros,
na esperança de que tenham a gentileza
de me reabastecer.
Eu sou suco no vidro,
em mostra pra você hoje: meu interior.
Eu sou ácidez
disfarçada em adoçante artificial,
apenas o suficiente
para ser engolida.
Eu sou auto-exportada,
empacotada em sonhos de grandeza,
de uma árvore que já não reconheço,
para o prazer
de bocas internacionais.
Eu subestimo
a ciência necessária
para me manter fresca em meu novo clima
Eu anoto, assimilo, altero minha química
mas estou fazendo certo?
Eu esqueço o que sou, na verdade
será que ainda consigo destilar minha essência?
Ou sera que ja me diluí
irreversivelmente?
Suco não pode voltar a ser laranja,
vidro não pode voltar a ser areia.
O único caminho é para frente.
Eu sou jarra e eu sou suco.
Amém.
I feel very deeply, but I curate my output to be palatable
I resent it
I long to be accepted just as I am
to not have to always be soft and smooth
to not have to water myself down for easy digestion
i am made from concentrate
I am sour, and I wish to be drunk in this state
for those who choose to
will know the sweetness of my aftertaste
‘Looking for Brazil’
I dream of Brazil as a mythical place where i would be recognized and conforted. Where i would ‘belong’ since i dont belong here. I search for bits of myself in distant images of places I’ve never been to. I cling onto tenuous connections.
My access to Brazil is limited and transcribed. Popular culture gets filtered through, distorted and pixelated in the wireless process of traveling to me.
It’s the most commonplace things that feel the most like home, and yet in their mundaness they are the least documented.
Nevertheless, I can only work with what I got here: trinquets that I bring with me and online content that, although out of context, comes close enough to blurry memories to temporarily soothe my nostalgic mind.
My access to Brazil is limited and transcribed. Popular culture gets filtered through, distorted and pixelated in the wireless process of traveling to me.
It’s the most commonplace things that feel the most like home, and yet in their mundaness they are the least documented.
Nevertheless, I can only work with what I got here: trinquets that I bring with me and online content that, although out of context, comes close enough to blurry memories to temporarily soothe my nostalgic mind.
more and more, multiple times a day, the question would pop into her head, distracting her from the actual event happening at present.
Will I remember this?
Will I remember this name? Will I remember this reference mentioned by this person i just met? Will I remember where I saved the ticket for this event happening 3 months from now? Will i remember how this moment felt? Acurately? Should i write it down? Will i remember if i wrote it down? Will i remember where i wrote it?
In the instances where she did remember some time after, to check weather she in fact had remembered the thing in question, most of the times the answer was no.
This was a problem because she had hording tendencies. To hoard knowledge. When she didn’t imediately write down the name of a restaurant recommendation, she would create a mind map to find the name she knew she’d forget by remembering adjecent information she could google, like the location or cousine or any outstanding characteristics. The persistent mental reminder to remember to look up the actual name to write down somewhere would burden her for a few days then disapear into the forgotten as new items she must not forget continued to trickle into the forgront of her mind.
What she did actually write down, she could forget about much more hapily, knowing that if it couldn’t be stored in her brain, at least it was stored somewhere, even if never to be remembered again.