I Don't Write In Portuguese. I Write

Should You Ask Me If I'm Happy, I'll Answer That I'm Not.

I Don't Know What I Feel Or What I Want To Feel. I Don't Know What To Think Or What I Am.

Talking To People Makes Me Feel Like Sleeping. Only My Ghostly And Imaginary Friends, Only The Conversations I Have In My Dreams, Are Genuinely Real And Substantial.

I'd Woken Up Early, And I Took A Long Time Getting Ready To Exist.

The Beauty Of A Naked Body Is Felt Only By The Dressed Races.