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)
Board Game Nerds? Board games end friendships faster than cheating.
Sleepwalking? I sleepwalked into the kitchen and woke up three pounds heavier.
GoFundMe Scams? Nothing says fraud like a GoFundMe titled “Help Me Buy Confidence.”
Sculpture Gardens? Sculpture gardens are just expensive lawns with excuses.
Portrait Photographers? Portrait photographers sell smiles and awkward stares.
Note-Taking Systems? Fancy note apps are just expensive notebooks you still ignore.
I don’t spiral—I creatively descend.
Content Strategy? Content strategy is planning memes professionally.
Influencer Mugs? A mug that says “boss babe” isn’t empowerment—it’s pottery.
Misunderstood Instructions? I thought “business casual” meant dressing like a confused butler.
My Wi-Fi has separation anxiety.
Baby Mishaps? Changing diapers is like defusing bombs—except the bombs scream at you.
D&D Players? D&D is lying with dice and costumes.
My Wi-Fi is my emotional support.
My inner peace has push notifications.
Slang Misunderstandings? My grandma said “yeet” at Thanksgiving, and we all needed therapy.
I don’t age; I upgrade sarcasm.
Celebrity News Addicts? If you know more about Kardashians than cousins, you need prayer.
I like my humor like my coffee: roasted, overthought.
I have trust issues with printers; they smell fear and toner.
Plant Propagators? Propagating plants is cloning without ethics boards.
Pet Training? My dog’s trainer taught him to sit—but only on my paycheck.
Airplane Turbulence? Turbulence is just the pilot shaking the jar of peanuts.
Festival Fashion Fails? Festival fashion is just glitter with sunburn.
My boundaries are decorative pillows.
Ringtone Embarrassment? My phone rang in public with “Baby Shark,” and I moved zip codes.
I don’t overshare; I test-pilot stories.