Dear Demi Moore,

For how long time will you walk with this pain?

Hi! My name is Ana, and I have thought about you since I have seen these photos about the end of your marriage.
I was worried about that, 'cause I think you are so beautiful and so talented, but maybe your illusion with all these thinks in this fucking world that you live are stronger than other feelings. For exemple, the love by ownselves. Reading me, now, focused in this last sentence, everything seems bullshit!
In my world, here in Brazil, these fucking shits happen too. And the worst is that it happens in every place. Sometimes someone doesn't break up with another one just because of pity or commiseration. Would you like to stay with your love in this situation? C’mon! Let’s have a tea of reality! Don’t be afraid!
Your teenager husband wasn't a good guy. Maybe, everybody is a bad guy. But if you are sad now, stay calm and keep in touch with my mailing. It's only too much glitter, too much flashes, too much empty information about your fucking or non-fucking life. Remember that? You are rich, too pretty (not in this skinny skin...), have cultural knowledge, etc e tal.
Take a sunbathe! Let the paparazzis photograph you lazing in the sun, drinking with friends, eating pasta, exotic fruits… Nobody is better than anyone! You don't have to show nothing, but your sincerely smile, your desire to stay in a good vibe. You have a lot of money for it. Go to Ibiza, a place that I've always wanted to stay in, since I'm sixteen. If you don't have any friend, you can call me, DAY AND NIGHT, and I'll go with you. Go to Cout d'Azur, vas faire du promenade sur la mer, boire du vin, regarder les garçons, quelque chose à manger dans un bon restaurant que vous savez. Oubliez votre calendrier pendant 6 mois, un année. Vous pouvez acheter une belle robe, seulement pour rester chez vous, se coucher dans uns chaise longue. Mangez du chocolat,* parce que il a beaucoup de cerotonina.
Ainsi, ma chère Demi, je vous dis qu’un amour ou une idée de l'amour ou de vie qui humilie ou embarrasse quelqu’un, n’ est pas nécessaire pour l’existence de personne.

Donc, à l’enfer Ashton Kutcher, Cameron Diaz (réparez son nez! Elle triche, mais paz assez!) et Cia ltda.

Bisous,
PoemasBrutos.
PS.: Pardonnez mon français et mon anglais. Je sais me communiquer, mais pas parfeitement. Une sorte de “precariado produtivo da língua”. Je peux mieux parler à ce sujet lorsque nous nous rencontrerons.


http://grooveshark.com/s/E+Se+Esqueca+De+Mim/3lqQMr?src=5

* Rappelons-nous le poèt: Come chocolates, pequena, come chocolates./ Olha que não há mais metafísica no mundo, senão chocolates./ Olha, que as religiões todas não ensinam mais que a confeitaria./ Come, pequena suja, come./ Pudesse eu comer chocolates com a mesma verdade com que comes./ Mas eu penso/ e ao tirar o papel de prata/ que é feito de folha de estanho/ deito tudo para o chão/ como tenho deitado a vida.