my text from class... (it is quite naif)

the incapacity of being 

mother
wife
filmaker
a student
naif
Profound 
anything...
with a head down
hands writing
cold
in my spin
i am afraid
of terror
Bolsonaro
stop. point.
a black pen writes in front of me
and Bolsonaro doesn't leave my mind
this is not a dream.
a deep breath
and yet there he is
A laugh
Is it his? 
His photo at the newspaper
his teeth
laughing
is he eating something? 
us? this country?
and me? here in US
US is not us.
Is Bolsonaro the entire country?
my country?
A sound of a feet in the floor. 
A head down. A black pen. Eye closed. 
a vibration of an iphone
the light is stronger than it felt before
Dis I got used to it?
To what? To Bolsonaro? 
I wake up today. Kids crying. "I don't wanna go to school" 
Matias got hurt.
And I kept going
but he is there, like the monster in Aurora's wardrobe. 

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