Facebook's wall of fame

Because on the internet you can be a star. Because on the internet you can show yourself off. Everyone wants to be a star. Everyone demands attention...

Poor boys and girls were born and raised in a poor environment, without hygiene, without health, without toys. The old TV set was their little portal to the world of wonder. Inside it, pretty children had a happy family that could give them the most expensive gifts, their parents were lovely, their city was beautiful and they had lots of friends that enjoyed enviable quality of life and lifestyle. If I become a model, I can be rich. If I become a soccer player, I can be rich and fuck all the women I wish.

Richer boys and girls were born and raised in a comfortable environment, clean, healthy in a house full of sophisticated technological devices. But it was in a poor land. When they went to Disney, they felt the air of arrogance from middle class the American kids educated to be xenophobic and stupid. They came back to Brazil feeling superior only to the poor ones, the kids of the traffic lights, the slums, the Children of the People. Money they already had, they just wanted to feel important and recognized for all, even bu the riffraff for them to humiliate...

However, not everyone become a model, a renewed soccer player or a Globo Broadcast's Hollywood star. How can I be famous, beloved and hated without the television?

Then the internet became popular, the price of the computers were slashed down and the social networks became a success. It is not the same thing of being the protagonist of a soap-opera but it can be worthy. And it was! Lots of unknown people started to make friends among them. The more friends I have, the more popular I'll be. Fifty friends... three hundred friends... six hundred friends... nine hundred friends... full profile...

I need pretty pictures to post on my Orkut... I need a new digital camera. I need to expose to every one I have a social life... say “cheese”. Take pictures like your were kissing, take them in front of the mirror... I think my body is not nice... I will start going to the gym... Has left to the gym. Shirtless pictures, breast pictures, ass pictures, lascivious pictures...

Hey, wait. Now the poor have Orkut, let's ridicule them, let's put them in their place because we were pioneers of this website and we are better than them... Well, the poor took over the Orkut, let's go to a social network not too popular where we can comment the pictures and proclaim ourselves the owners of it

Twitter to say what I'm doing, did or intend to do. Good morning, good afternoon, good night, Faces. Foursquare to say where I am, at the party, at the gym, at the mall, at the beach... Instagram to show off to there poor people I have an iPhone and my pictures are cult. 1920's effect to the pictures of the beach, 1970's effect to the photos at the nightclub, 1980's effect to the lasagna I've just cooked.

But it is not enough to scream the places I go. It is not enough to report and cool places I'm going. It is not enough to show off my body as my biggest talent... It's necessary to be more than a desirable one financially and sexually, it's necessary to show some culture.

I have never read Clarice Lispector but her phrases impress me. I don't understand of feelings but Caio Fernando de Abreu touches my heart. I don't understand of Philosophy and Mathematics but Nietzsche and Freud know so much about life and about the human being... Oh, Freud was psychoanalyst? Sorry, I'm so cult, so erudite that I mess up my mind with several names and professions.

Brazil's situation is really lamentable, right? The rich class is rich, the poor class is poor and the middle class is middle! Corrupt politician should be a compound word, nobody's trustworthy. Terrorist Dilma. Alcoholic Lula. Globo is right and Veja too. Let's organize a march against corruption because the internet is the sole weapon we have.

What about talking about love all the time, suffering of love? It's necessary fallacy when we want sex or a relationship to mask the loneliness. The likes and comments are my test of popularity. The one who likes my picture or poke me wants to fuck with me. The one who positively comments my polemic post thinks I am smart and wants to fuck with me. The one who is against my opinion is envy of me and should have some sex.

If someone criticizes us, it is envy of our success... Always, always... Poor envy people....

Because on the internet you can be whoever you wish. Because on the internet you can be the perfect human being, hot and photoshoped, ready of impressive quotes that thrills Brazil. Because on the internet you can be a star. Because on the internet you can show yourself off. Everyone wants to be a star. Everyone demands attention...

Once upon a time there was spontaneity and freedom to be the one you are instead of submitting yourself to be an ideal, an utopia, someone who will never exist.

Tromsø

The hot milk cup warmed my hands during that sunny, but cold, winter day in Tromsø. In the moment that my eyes lied on the opened petit suisse pot, the snow outside melt down and I got back to the 1992 summer. The snow was replaced by the vivid green of the grass.

We ran barefoot along the river coast and its transparent water. We could see its bottom full of rocks and even some fishes. And through the wide and opened fields we could fly a kite and admire the curious shapes of the clouds. Or the several stars that the city lights weren't able to hide in the sky.

The kings of the world excavated the ground seeking for treasures. They climbed some hills as if it was a big fjord. How much History could an abandoned house to have?

Two pots of petit suisse and twine and then we had a telephone. Calm and cozy song playing inside a house. A dog running to catch a ball. No worries.

Chicken soup if you caught a cold. Advices when you were insecure. Studying together if one of us had a tough exam in college. Hugging when we failed, hugging when we succeed. Presence if some of our relatives and friends were gone.

At that time, we lived well. We were friends, we were partners. By the look, we could read unspoken words, we could easily understand what each other were feeling and thinking. We were not concerned with the annoyance of the boring people. We couldn't see fun in laughing at people that were different or eccentric. We weren't concerned in judging everyone and everything. We never wanted to be the center of the attentions, being better or worse than anyone.

We were only concerned in living, in appreciating the beauty of live, enjoying a simple life not expecting miracles or everything great. We don't want to waste time with sadness and its unpleasant consequences.

Nothing has changed, we are just older. We still see the world with the same eyes. We still can see and feel the beauty even in the small things.

We have each other. We are more than friends, we are more brothers, we are more than a family. We are a fortress when we are together. We are light when it's dark. We care, we take care of each other. We are a couple that life joined, unable to be separated by anyone.

Sakineh's sour vomit

The Ambassador's receptions are noted in society for their host's exquisite taste that captivates his guests.

Sakineh got negatively surprised in seeing him again. Even she had finally overcame her past traumas, she felt a growing anger inside her. The fact he wasn't single but married with a Westerner woman that barely knew how to dress a hijab decently made her angry more and more.

Differently from her, Sakineh's former lover got positively surprised in seeing her again. It could be explained by the fact that Sakineh was more spectacular than before and also because he hadn't seen the Turkish-Iraqi doctor with whom Sakineh had gotten married. When the waiter took with him the giant tower of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, he finally went crazy when he discovered that Sakineh had a husband. Even of all he had done and said, he still loved her.

Feeling uncomfortable, Sakineh asked “excuse me” and went to the toilet. The Slavic Sakineh's former lover wife offered him a chocolate and whispered at his ear:

“Monsieur, with this Roche, you are really spoiling us!”.

Exasperated, he pushed her to the floor saying “Get out of my way, you bitch!”. She didn't feel humiliated with such an act of rudeness and took advantage of this moment to seduce the ambassadors with a sexy look, biting her lips. Some were recording the first lady fallen on the floor of the Embassy while she said “Record me, edit me”.

As she had never gone to the Embassy of Saudi Arabia before, Sakineh got lost and end up in the kitchen. It was where her former lover finally found her for them to talk and Sakineh spill over all what she wanted to say but that she couldn't. She also felt safe and sheltered in that kitchen full of shining silver knives and cleavers.

Sakineh, it's very good to see you again! I missed you for all those years, days and nights. It was as if the Sun couldn't heat me, as if the Moon couldn't light my darkest nights. - he said using the same words he once used.

You missed me so much that you abandoned me! You missed me so much that you got married with a porn start from Slovakia! You disposed the love I gave you, the dreams I dreamed. You couldn’t do it! You disposed my illusion, the crazy passion. It's too late... - Sakineh said.

Saky, things happened in my life. Things I couldn't tell you, I suspected you could be an odalisque interested only on my goods. I ascended to power and I needed a woman in the same level of mine and you was just an odalisque. What could I expect from a woman that I met dancing at the pole dance to American soldiers in Baghdad?

I was I dancer wishing to make money and fame through the dance and I need to start from the bottom, but I doesn't mean I didn't love you. I gave you all my love and you threw it into the garbage can, you traded me for a woman that sees you as a piece of flesh and you probably see her the same way because well, worse than dancing at the pole dance is being a renowned worldwide porn start! - roared Sakineh.

I was wrong, Sakineh. You were always my true love and I was stupid too seek for something better. With you I realized that loving is too easy, too hard is trying to forget that once all the love I had I gave you. When I noticed it wasn't enough, it was too late to get back and give you what I didn't gave.

Save me from you late regret speech, I don't believe in nothing else that comes from your velvet mouth. Don't say you love me unless forever, don't tell me you need me if you're not gonna stay. Don't give me this feeling, I'll only believe it. Make it real or take it all away.

Iranian cookers came into the kitchen and both Sakineh and her former lover remained quiets. Sakineh didn't want to look into his eyes. She was just looking at a shining knife on the table, imagining she was cutting that man once she loved in small parts to serve him in a soup of blood.

When the kitchen was empty from cookers again, Sakineh decided to put an end in that conversation. She felt anything else but distaste and a great grief by that man and she didn't have a little wish of forgiving him.

Sakineh, I want you back. Come back to me, become my first lady. Come to make me happy – he begged her with tears on his eyes.

I'm happy without you. I have never met a man so coward, so weak, so cold, so insensitive and mentally unstable as you are. If you really loved me, you would never do what you did, you would never speak with me as you did that time. I would have accepted your imperfections because I accepted you even with that dubious behavior. I really loved you and I was never in doubt of my feelings about you. I never looked for “something better”. You build a good feeling together with me but when you destroyed it, you did it all alone never caring of what I would feel. My life became a real hell, I started to use drugs. You had your chance of being happy with me before but you quit. You could have a second chance with me if I haven't met my Turkish-Iraqi husband that treats me as a true woman and cares about what I feel. You are immature and selfish, you don't care of others, only with your own pleasure... - she said all these words coldly and that was making her feel good; she was spelling over all she always wanted to speak.

But Sakineh... - he tried to interrupt her.

You shout you mouth because you have no right to speak. I sincerely want you to suffer because only this way you would understand what I passed. You are undignified of love because you don't know how to love anyone. Follow you path without me, you could have me, but you didn't want. The choice was yours. I'm tired of you, I found another man. Don't look for me anymore. Goodbye – and Sakineh turned her back to him and left...

He remained in the kitchen, paralyzed with those words. He expected Sakineh to jump to his arms but, for his surprise, she was more mature, more than he was. He had never been loved by anyone so strongly and he had never loved anyone as intensively as Sakineh. He felt alone and his speech about the heat of the Sun stopped being only beautiful words to become a fact. It was as if he was surrounded by a cold wind, as if a trapdoor was opened under his feet.

  YIRUMA - Kiss The Rain by Tsukige