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The Best Hours

The best hours I've ever lived couldn't be written here,
couldn't be written anywhere.
They couldn't be told, sold, molded...
They are mine, and only mine,
they are what really defines me,
my unpredictable madness, my bizarre taste, my eccentric way of being.
Everybody sees that the system accepts me
because I'm a steady employee and pay my own bills,
but nobody sees I dupe the system all the time with my invented lives.
Everybody is sure that I was a dedicated student
because I always got good grades,
but nobody can imagine I spent my hours with my pursuit
and not with homework.
Everybody thinks that I'm happy with what they see about me
because I rarely complain out loud,
but nobody notices I don't give a shit for all these things:
success, good jobs, high graduation, brilliant career,
I just don't care.
It's just to get some money to pay my bills,
to afford my fancies, my fantasies, the things I really care,
the things I really like.
Some people knows I like music, literature, cinema, theater,
but it's just because I let them know,
because I know they will classify it like a hobby, or something,
and they will not think I'm a weird, or a freak,
that's why I let them know some of my taste,
but I would never let them know how I spend my best hours,
what I have been pursuing all the time,
because this...
This, this, this...
This is so mine,
the best part of the best hours I ever cut.


(Júlio B.)
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