Dispatch from Brasília

Three days after my friend’s wedding and still in the midst of overwhelming hospitality, being fed to bursting, imbibing caipirinhas in quantities sufficient to precipitate diabetes and give mosquitos a hangover, dipping into a century’s lonely soap opera, being amused by Fat Sam the international cat, learning rudimentary ballet, swooning over olivine or dark chocolate eyes, being both blessed by a priest and called a ‘lost soul’ (not by the priest), and becoming more convinced that nothing is more important than living this life, rather than pondering fanciful notions of any other (but it’s easy when you’re having fun, right?). Which all contributes to informing that decision. But I might just stay and forget about it for a while longer…


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