In Which the Store is called Divagation for a Reason: The Second Death of the Stillborn Brazilian City, and the Evil of forced Convivence

Good afternoon, my friend, dear reader of this present post! Happy Sunday! How are you? Hope you had a nice week, many excellent and fulfilling moments. Let me know also, how is the weather? Where I'm at, the weather is quite hot and muffled, not all moments, but the most uncomfortable are certainly on that fashion. March is on its full development, and as such, Summer moves to autumn, not inmediately, but certainly does so. As for me, how I'm at, I am okay. Just arrived home from grandma's house, it was an okay time, I was owning her another visit, now I am not under such hook. It is no sacrifice to visit dear grandma, not in the least, but it is a journey, as the town is absurdly spread out, and its different corners are so far one from the other. I cannot stop thinking of the great book by Mrs. Jacobs as I commute, and I am sure that she would agree with me, or I would agree with her, my own city, as many brazilian ones have the same sinful nature, is such a disaster, such a terrible mess of zoning, so inhospitable on its heat retention, as for one aspect it makes particularly uncomfortable termically, that I don't imagine it could ever be salvaged. That, alone, could be another book, The Second death of the stillborn Brazilian City, if I was to be this cynical. Ah, no. I would not. I would try to be more constructive than that. But, in my own blog, space for my ideas and my acidity, as well as my sweetness, just a place for me with warts and all, I can yell of relief in expressing my deep frustration and melancholy over the woes of modernism and its biggest victim: Brazil.

Apart from that, on another realm, one I can actually control a bit more succesfully, the one dwelling I fortunately inhabit, which is my bedroom, I am progressing on a drawing I am quite taken by. I hope I can finish it this new week that dawns. I am excited to share it everywhere when it is done, I mostly will write about it on Patreon, but I will try to bring it up here as well, as well as on Instagram, as these days, drawings are what I post there mostly. On other moments, I had a special Instagram account just for them. I have not abandon that one, but it has become redundant, and for this season, left in need of some revamp. Truth is, I fear to open other instagram accounts, as I woe if I find a dear friend has blocked me, has shunned me, moved away from me, and is behind my back plaguing upon my name, spreading bad things abour me so others will shun me as well, and I will be a pariah, one person to be avoided, I would be alone and I would be miserable. And life would become unbearable. That is the OCD, it is usually not the case. But even if not so, now, it once did. Back when I was at school, just at the end of first school and at the dawn of middle school, students were quite mean and malicious towards me. I was quite an easy target, being so OCD-ridden, and I could not guess people had bad thoughts until they held things to throw at me. Some would spread some quite malicious rumors that I would do what I would not, but given my ticks, they loved to use me as butt of all sort of bad jokes, including sexual ones, God knows how children would be this precocious. No one, specially not at 8, should be on such rumors. Later I would grow fond of Homeschooling, the idea and the practice of it, and probably my horrible experience just on this side (there were many other bad ones too) offers an explanation of one good reason why. You force children to live together, all different and as evil as one kid can be, and they can be quite bad, I don't think the result is ever pretty. Some survive, but most just exist as a shell. I don't think many can survive even half-alive from school. It is bad. It is really really bad.

I know the post went on a bad tangent. But it is a reason I do call my place the divagation store. Such is life. I would not have it any other way, sure, but that is not the whole tale. And of course, I am happy to write. And I am happy that I will return time and time again to write on this publication, Lord above willing. I should be back, then, really soon, hopefully at some point before next weekend I hope! And until then, I wish you the best, and I hope we can chat again real soon! Farewell for now!