For as long as I'm around
You three will live in my heart
And when my body finally perishes
The three of you will live forever
Floating, dancing
In my soul


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Seu Presente Pra Mim

Eu quero o seu olhar
O brilho dos seus olhos
Quero sua mente
A testa franzida pensante
Eu quero sua risada
O som da sua voz
Quero conversar
Entrar no seu mundo

Eu quero isso
E quero agora

Eu quero seu corpo
Seu beijo, seu gosto
Pra mim só o nada é demais



Lá na Vila Clementino
Num quarto bem pequenino
Um homem se acha menino

Nas noites, lua já vai alta,
Se entrega ao prazer do sonhar
Mas não quer dormir o peralta
Só quer escrever, quer cantar

Sofre sempre dos mesmos males
Aqueles que traz o amor
De repente, pula um salto
E decide: "Vô sê dotô!"


What Is Love Anyway?

My best friend is gay. She and her “roommate” had been bugging me for ages, trying to talk me into going to a gay club with them. They kept saying I’d enjoy the atmosphere (“lots of writers go there”, they'd say, like a writer wants to meet another freak) and the music (mostly 70’s and 80’s).
There were two things holding me back, though.
First, I thought I’d be in danger. I’m quite easygoing. Always have been. But I was a little self-conscious about going to a gay club. I was afraid guys would be coming onto me all the time. But then I thought: Hey, I’m not that attractive. When I go to straight clubs, girls don’t even look my way.
In fact, I need to work really hard to get a girl’s attention. And I’m just not the kind of guy who has that innate ability of starting conversations with strangers.
The other thing was that it was going to be the three of us there. I was afraid of being a third wheel.
You know, I really loved being single. At that time, I simply wasn’t able to see myself tied up to anyone. I love the freedom of going to places or staying home without having to negotiate with anyone. Also, the time you spend alone is so productive: you can read, you can write (and that’s what I do), watch those movies nobody else wants to watch, plan your vacation, spend a hundred bucks on a bottle of wine without feeling guilty... Perfect!
The only real problem in being single: going out with your friends who do have somebody. Couples are always in couples. When a couple goes out, either it’s going to be a romantic evening or they’re going out with another couple (whether they’re gay or straight... this seems to be standard behavior among human beings, regardless their race, creed, or sexual orientation).
I have a lot of friends who have somebody or are married. And I get along pretty well with them and, in most cases, with their partners, too. That makes me welcome to most parties, get-togethers, and the like, they throw. But I have lost count of the many times I was there among 3 or 4 couples. Sometimes it does feel weird. It’s like I ought to be somewhere else. Not there.
Anyway, I finally gave in. I remember I was still in school and it was Sunday night, which meant we couldn’t be long there. So I thought, why not?
The place was pretty cool indeed. The music was really nice and in the middle of the night there was a stand-up show by a hilarious drag queen. I had a ball. But something kind of awkward happened.
Alisson (my friend) had been getting some text messages on her cell from a mysterious girl. Her girlfriend, Danielle, was furious. She’d been trying to get Alisson’s cell all night. She wanted to check the contents of those mysterious messages. Alisson was also getting kind of pissed off. She felt Danielle was breaking into her privacy. Danielle would say that if Alisson would let her see the messages, she’d be able to trust her more and there would be no need for any of that.
Anyway, Danielle was a little high. We all were. We had had a joint in the car, before getting into the club. Also, we’d bought a bottle of J.D.’s as soon as we’d gotten in (Danielle and I are whiskey people, Alisson drinks expensive wine and cosmopolitans). That’s the picture. At a certain point, they grabbed me and decided I’d be the judge of that little quarrel.
“Jimmy,” started Danielle, “you love us both, don’t you?” She paused for a drag at her cigarette and then handed it over to me, “I mean, you and Alisson have known each other longer, but you care about us, and you are impartial by nature, so, what do you think about what’s going on?”
I had a long drag at the cigarette. They were there, watching me, waiting. Alisson nodded at me, approvingly.
“Well,” I took a deep breath, “I don’t think this specific matter concerns me and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it, let alone expressing my views on it.”
“Oh, come on!” Danielle threw out her hands. “As a friend it is your duty to be honest.” She was getting kind of loud there. “Come on, come on! Don’t be a wussy! Say what you think. That’s all I want from you.”
I don’t appreciate being called a wussy. So I gave her what she asked for.
“You wanna know what I think. Here it goes: If I were Alisson, I’d have broken up with you a long time ago for being so invasive.”
“But her behavior forces me to be invasive. She never tells me what’s really going on between her and that chick.”
“So you should break up with her, that is, if you feel she’s keeping something from you.”
“You see?” she was looking at Alisson who finally had something to say.
“But you don’t have to be so aggressive, Danielle. You pushed the girl at that party!”
Danielle dropped her glass and left us at the bar. Alisson gave me her own glass and went after her.
And there I was, alone, holding a cosmpolitan. In a gay club.
First thing I had to do was get rid of the drink. So I drank it all up at once. I put the glass on the counter and left the bar. Hitting usually happens in that area. I took a few steps out of the bar and found myself at the edge of the dance floor.
There’s this thing about me. I’m a man. I’m straight. But I dance. And I enjoy it. But I simply couldn’t do it. I already could see a guy staring at me.
I took a few steps back and found a wall towards which I could lean and wait. And, boy, did I wait!
Those two seemed to be nowhere I could see them. They were definetely not at the dance floor. They weren’t at the bar, either. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I wiped it off using the back of my hand. I started looking around. At the smallest sign of a guy looking at me, I’d keep my head down. I looked back at the bar once more, to check if they had been there again, I might’ve missed them, due to my dilated pupils, that’s when I saw her.
There was this girl at the bar. She was talking to this very skinny, tall guy, who was wearing outrageously tight pants and shirt. She was wearing a white jean jacket and regular blue jeans. Her blond her was tied behind her head. Too cool to care. She was holding a bottle of beer. And, I don’t know if this was because I was staring at her, but she decided to look my way, and she too saw me.
I was kind of oblivious to what was happening. Had I been a little more sober, or had she been a little less perfect, I’d have been able to realize she was actually looking back at me, and, as I’ve done many times before, I’d have looked way. But that was not what happened.
I was kind of drunk. But that was not due to the booze. It was her. I know it was. And, suddenly, she was smiling at me. I then realized I had been smiling myself. Apparently unconsciously. And I finally turned my back on her.
My heart was pounding. I was breathing real fast. What was I doing? Staring at the girl as if she’d been a painting or a TV screen. What a movie that was! But then it hit me. She was looking right back at me. She was smiling. I turned around again. She wasn’t there anymore. I started looking for her, on tiptoe, above everybody’s head. I barely missed her. I’m not very tall. I’m kind of short, actually. She was going towards the exit. Great, I thought, I just blew it before it even happened.
I can’t tell you how exactly this happened, but I was suddenly following her.
I thought she was leaving and I wanted to get another chance. I wanted to look at her again. I wanted to find out if she was really smiling at me. She turned right before getting to the door and entered the restroom. The guy who’d been talking to her stopped there, holding her beer.
I was relieved. She was not leaving. But there was another problem. Who the fuck was that guy? Was he really gay, a gay friend, her image consultant? Or maybe he wasn’t gay. Maybe he looked gay because he found it attracted women. Maybe they were an item. I had to find out.
I know that this wasn’t the smartest move of the night.
I just came up to him and asked, “Excuse me, are you gay?”
“Hell yeah!” was his answer and he grabbed me by the neck and pulled me. I’m a pretty agile man and I could duck before his lips even got close to my face.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just... I...”
He looked a little upset. He crossed his arms and looked grumpy.
“Look, man,” I continued, “I’m really sorry. It’s just that...”
“I know what you’re gonna say.”
“You do?”
“Course, I do, love. I saw you staring at my girlfriend.”
At that moment she came out of the restroom. He turned to her.
“Judy, let me introduce you to a friend of mine. Your name, darling.” He was looking at me seemingly bored.
“Jim... uh... Jimmy... hi.”
“Well, you two have a good time," said her friend as he walked away towards the dance floor.
We were there. Looking at each other. For a moment, everything else ceased to be.