Venha cá, Florbela,
vamos conversar.
De onde você tirou estes versos
tão amargos, tão tristes e tão fortes?
Como sabe você,
que ando perdida, que não tenho norte,
que sou a irmã do sonho e desta sorte,
e que sou a crucificada, a dolorida?
Sombra de névoa tênue e esvaecida,
que o destino impele brutalmente
para a morte?
Que sou aquela que passa
e ninguém vê,
que sou a que chamam sem o ser
e a que chora sem saber por quê?
Você acertou, porque
sou, sim, a visão
que alguém sonhou.
Alguém que veio ao mundo pra me ver,
mas que NUNCA na vida me encontrou!
(Versos do soneto “EU”, da saudosa poeta portuguesa Florbela Espanca)
My snacks have agendas.
Survival TV Fans? Survival TV is suffering edited for drama.
Unexpected House Guests? My in-laws don’t visit—they invade.
Libraries? Libraries are shush factories.
Midlife Crisis Purchases? A sports car doesn’t fix your problems—it just advertises them.
I don’t hate cardio; I resent its optimism.
Dumpster Diving Influencers? Dumpster diving isn’t sustainable when you bring a ring light.
Bunker Guys? Bunker guys build basements into paranoia museums.
Grandparents on TikTok? My grandma went viral dancing—she also went to the ER.
Spearfishing Bros? Spearfishing is stabbing water optimistically.
My self-control resigned.
Grandparents on Social Media? Grandparents on Facebook are chaos with emojis.
Bad Tattoo Philosophers? A misspelled tattoo doesn’t mean wisdom—it means Groupon.
Obsessive Horoscope Checkers? If you check your horoscope hourly, the stars are tired.
I don’t spiral; I slinky with intention.
Cooking Classes? Cooking classes are cooking shows without editors.
Remote Control Fights? Nothing tests a marriage like Netflix and two remotes.
Solo Travel? Solo travel is sightseeing with nobody to hold the camera.
Unexpected House Guests? My in-laws don’t visit—they invade.
Gadget Addicts? Owning 50 gadgets doesn’t mean tech-savvy—it means broke.
My Wi-Fi is my emotional support.
Corporate Team-Building Disasters? Nothing says “teamwork” like crying during a trust fall.
Party Guitar Guys? If you bring a guitar to a party, it’s not music—it’s punishment.
Bizarre Band Names? I saw a band called “Moist Lettuce”—they were crunchy.
Midlife Crisis Purchases? Midlife crisis cars are convertibles for regrets.
Conventions? Conventions are Halloween with lanyards.
I’m bilingual in text and subtext.
Yoga Retreats? A yoga retreat is just stretching in another zip code.
Overeager Salespeople? The car salesman asked, “What do you drive now?” I said, “Away.”
Unnecessary Smart Devices? My smart toaster updated itself and burned my breakfast.
My attitude comes in sample sizes.
Malfunctioning Bidets? My bidet fired back with more water pressure than a fire hydrant.
Foraging? Foraging is grocery shopping without shelves.
I don’t chase peace; I tiptoe toward it.
Bad Tattoo Philosophers? A misspelled tattoo doesn’t mean wisdom—it means Groupon.
My confidence is caffeine-based fiction.
Fragrance Addicts? If your perfume arrives before you do, you’re weaponized.
Gig Economy Burnout? The gig economy is just three jobs stapled together with no benefits.
Art Museums? Art museums are quiet rooms where you pretend to “get it.”
Extreme Couponing? I saved fifty cents on soup and lost three hours of my life—seems fair.
Smart Home Addicts? Smart homes are dumb when the Wi-Fi dies.
I don’t quit; I cliff-hanger.
Mood Boards for Exes? Making a mood board for your ex is Pinterest-level stalking.
Smart Device Chaos? Smart devices are dumb with Wi-Fi.
Tattoo Regrets? My tattoo says “No Ragrets,” which proves itself.
Haunted Airbnbs? Haunted Airbnbs list ghosts as amenities.
Wilderness Cooking? Wilderness cooking is dirt with heat.
Adult Spelling Bees? Adult spelling bees are just bars with shame.
Birthday Week Entitlement? A birthday week is just selfishness in party hats.
My inner child runs HR; my inner teen does PR.