DARK CITY

I was born in what I use to call a prostitute of a city christened Petropolis, stucked in the middle of the mountains of Rio de Janeiro, which name derives from an aristocratic bastard, whose family flew from Portugal, centuries ago, afraid of Napoleon, and settle in this country, which continues to suffer today with our present leftist government, not exclusively because it is leftist, but because it is dumb and blind and deaf. And corrupt, let us add. (Of course, the people, who still believes, is to blame, also!). 

The family of that aristocratic bastard is still around, charging people for every house or terrain someone buys or sells in this city, their members absolutely mad, victims of the weakness caused by centuries of incest. Of course, the real victims of these vampires are us, the citizens, who did not ask our forefathers to come to this land and make us born here. Well, things are what they are...

You know one of the reasons this ´Imperial City´ is famous? Because, back in the 40´s, a famous Austrian writer, Stefan Zweig, came to live here. Not much of a writer, compared to other heavy names of literature, herr Zweig chose our ´marvelous´ city for a reason: commiting suicide, alongside his second wife, on February 1942, right after Carnival!

Quite a reason to be proud, huh?! The guy comes here, running from the Nazis, only to find a city which surrounding landscapes depresses him even more, leading him to suicide. And people around here are proud of such a thing...!!!

Am I crazy? Am I a bad son of this town, which gave me to light? Whatever. But I tell you this, man, I tell you this...I´m not Jim Morrison but before all the crap hits the fan, I wanna´get my kicks...if I still can, for that matter!