But look at my face, ain't this smile?

Viver... segredo. Um mistério é o que concedo a cada uma das minhas amigas e amigos. Silêncio sobre o sabor da pétala e da pimenta, para que não se esvaia a fluidez e a mastigação. Falar mata, perde saliva. Falar corta, despedaça. Sentir e não dizer perpetua o prazer. The lost art of keeping a secret.
I tell you something, folks. Life has been a complete tragedy, in its worst way. But look at my face, ain't this smile? A single mark of taste overruns these lips, that now, try to forget what I shouldn't have heard. Funny, uh? I've learned all this time to be patient, calm and receptive to other's points of view. But now, all I want is to rip off the opinions of those who REALLY DON'T SPEAK my language. Therefore, closing my eyes and making jokes about their incompetence in existing is being so far what I most need: distance, goddamn-sacred distance.
But what have I done in all this months that it's a secret and I can not tell? If I told you, I'd die, and that's not an expression, nor an exageration. I'd die again, trust me. So, with a kiss of mistery, I say bye to the deaf ears. Blind people is no more my will. And all that is said in this text is too much.
Bye.