sexta-feira

A continuation...
I could delete the prior post, as it was typed out of frustration, but then you wouldn't know what I really thought. So here comes the love...

I love, maybe mingled with the cousin 'like', a number of things or feelings in Rio. And it would probably do me good to give these things life by putting them on "paper". Most of all I appreciate the colors. There is color in the mood of the faces of Brazilians, oh, and by the way, the women, nor men here are as 'hot' or attractive as all of us Americans like to believe... Their faces, deep in skin tones with small, round features, so talkative, like birds chirping, parakeets to be exact. There is color in the samba, in the way two bodies dance intimately as if they've known each other their whole lives and then detach, turn around, and dance just as close and intensely with another stranger waiting in the shadowed wings. There is color in the sidewalks and of course in the shit that lies willy-nilly upon them. There is color in the skies, color that rolls and dances like no skies my eyes have had the privledge of gazing on before. This, i appreciate, adventure to love.

Now confusion, neither love nor like.
Rio, Brazil, debatably, a third world country, one that has the amenities you might find at home, but has the violence you only see on t.v. Debatable, because of the limbo that you can feel, smell, and nearly choke on here, and it exist as something that we need to find a label for, because, as U.S. citizens, that is what we do best, find labels and answers for things, for people, whether they need one or not. Maybe a second-world country? Is there such a thing? Or do they just get in lost in the bureaucracy of labels? Good enough to not need immediate attention anymore, but precarious, and collapsible with a strong governmental wind.

So here I come to help, but help what?
What do you do when you're not sure what to do?
Thanks for listening to my rambling, because that's exactly what this is.

With love,
Terry