



malena
She was not a concept, nor was she a clichéd character in some absurd novel. There was a sudden reality to her arrivals and departures, a sharp pain each time my eyes followed the drag of the expensive cigarette. She was a closed door, an open window, a dead end. She had nothing, but she had everything-everything in me. She was whoever you wanted. Marie, Anne, Johane, the other, the first, the last. She was the psychologist, the therapist, the counselor, the maid, the secretary. She was nothing, but she was everything - everything to me. She was Malena. The friend, the roommate, the hooker and... And the love of my life.
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View profileEu me afogarei na disforia na lagoa negra e fria de mim mesma o fosso da minha mente imaterial.
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