LAND OF BLACK MILK
You can try to identify beauty and cruelty, truth and lie, good and bad.
Yet there is no universal instruction for it. If we have no guarantee that we all see the same,
the only point we will meet is the stillness of an idea. Who can tell if the world is happy or sad, black or grey?
Seduction and corruption, stimulation and frustration, desire and gunfires.
You are a certain kind of wild if you are from here. A craze that jumps across your glimpses.
To be so perfect, but there is no sophistication here; no quest for an ideal.
Rio de Janeiro is not so much one city as different worlds. Multiplied realities of one place and the space in between.
A two-ness, two warring ideals in one body with an inherently split personality.
The two-ness of a land, vulnerable and powerful at the same time.
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