5 hours to Marabá. then all the way to Rio de Janeiro. sweaty sheets cold back. rolling out of the bed feeling stressed why would anyone travel to Brazil out of a sense of duty. though most people rush through their days keep going and fade away. out of a sense of duty.
blurring the thoughts with iced coffee. waiting for the service to begin. days of tranquility until appointments and promises woosh over one’s mind.
the mailbox is a rampant field of weeds I’m. afraid of attracting the ticks infecting myself with a sickness that. doesn’t allow me to sleep anymore. terrified of the field growing out into a forest where I would get lost eternally.
lethargic movements. avoid opening the laptop go have a breakfast at the turkish bakery which has no attachments to my day-to-day.
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