YOU
You told me we lived in bad times.
That there were a lot of good things,
but there was a lot to improve.
They said you were too radical. Exaggerated. That you weren´t open to dialogue.
I don´t see you that way. I think you love to talk.
In fact, you talk non-stop. Talk, talk...
Then you drink, start to cry saying you love everyone.
You always cried without the fear of being someone who cries.
And always let the things inside, those that really mattered, get out to the world.
Before reaching that point, you were once a child.
I couldn´t find a video of you as a child, but you were one, obviously.
You were born and spoiled by your entire family. You were their prince.
Then you turned ten years old, surrounded by boys and girls.
You already loved the girls. Played with them.
Laughed with them.
It was fast and the boys already wanted to kiss the girls.
And you wanted to kiss the boys.
I LOVE FAGGOTS!
You told me that at a soccer game,
you were cheering for the boys with your girlfriends.
You screamed like cheerleaders.
Your mom, seeing her faggot little son yelling, asked you to stop.
There are some details that stick.
You already knew you were gay.
But you hoped you weren´t.
You bought naked girls magazine, went to the toilet,
looked to all the pages, but didn´t like it.
You told me you would say to yourself:
"I hope I´m not."
But you were.
From a kid you became a teenager. Kissed a few girls, fell in love.
To the others you quickly became the little faggot.
There were others like you, but you didn´t know any of them.
Of course you met your group of friends.
People that accepted you how you were.
Better, made you accept who you were.
I remember you were drunk the first time you kissed a guy.
At our friend´s going away party.
You started to cry and said:
"I really want to kiss this person."
Then I asked you: "A girl?". And you said: "No."
Of course I already knew. Even with you denying multiple times when I asked.
You would say you have thought about it, but you weren´t. Buddy, come on... Ok then.
The good thing is that you were already crying saying you wanted to kiss your friend,
but you also wanted to have kids, get married, build a family.
You threw up all these things. Plans you thought you wouldn´t achieve any more.
The good thing is that you´re quick.
Cried, everyone got it, you went to the bathroom
then got back and everyone said they would love you the same way.
Done.
It seemed like you were out for centuries.
The making out began. Made out again and again, with many.
After that, you told your family and friends. Really embraced the cause.
"I´m gay, fag, faggot."
Go.
To me you were always a happy guy.
A clown, ironic.
Always with a sharp tongue, ready to be mean to someone.
At the same time, you looked at yourself and thought you were ridiculous.
You knew humour was your defense mechanism to be accepted by others.
After so many times being ridiculed, you knew laughing was the best weapon.
We used to laugh a lot and everything was possible in our universes.
We believed in things, fought for them.
We revolutionized our affections thousands of times
and without any shame, filled up cups with our tears, laughs and stories.
Always thinking that tomorrow would be much better.
That everything could be much better for people that laughed like us,
and still had an enormous ability to dream.
You began to love the gay world. You said you loved faggots.
You would see these super gays guys at clubs, dancing like crazy and would immediately smile.
"I love fags, guys!"
After that you began to love drags, went to every drag show.
You´d buy the rainbow flags, stickers, pins, bracelets.
Today my soul spills in a sad rainbow.
Together with that joy there was a lot of anger.
You lived revolted.
You were impatient.
I remember when we travelled by plane for the first time.
I was terrified of planes. Panic.
You went by my side. It was a 40 minutes flight.
We went up and I cried, grabbed your hand. Sobbing, said I was going to die, that the plane would crash.
I remember the flight attendant telling me to suck some ice that it would get better.
Why suck ice if the plane is going to crash? You didn´t laugh.
You saw that I was so crazy that even started to believe the plane was actually going to crash.
In the next trip you put another friend in your seat and went to sit far away.
You didn´t want to go through that flight of death again.
You said I had to go to therapy, that I couldn´t stop travelling because of that panic.
And when you wanted, you would really talk.
You were very stressed.
When you came out to your family,
you were pissed that they asked for some time to accept it, that it wasn´t easy for them either.
"I´m the one that can be killed in the street and they want me to understand they need some time?"
You were like: "I´m gay and that´s it, period."
The church drove you crazy.
You thought it still had to apologize for to all the gays for the harm it had caused.
But they said this pope was better, he even said: "Who am I to judge them?"
You would strike back saying that it was the least he had to say.
Worse, to you the church didn´t need to say anything because it had nothing to do with it.
"Why did the church have to give an opinion on what was right and wrong?"
To you it was crazy for someone to speak in God´s behalf and have millions of people following.
You had a lot of catholic friends and were raised in a catholic school, but to you there was no discussion.
"If the church says I´m going to burn in hell then I don´t wanna hear it."
You thought it was absurd that some people could openly offend gays and not be punished for it.
That they defended freedom of speeche above all.
You retorded that it was a speech of hate. You couldn´t understand why so much hate.
You also didn´t have any patience when people said that society was slowly advancing towards your rights.
That society wasn´t ready yet.
You said society didn´t need to be ready for anything.
That was your life.
You only had that life and you had the right to be happy.
When someone was killed for being gay, you would get upset.
You would cry and say it was like it happened to you.
And I could see that were honest tears.
You couldn´t understand how the entire world wasn´t chocked by those crimes.
Would think about everything you had to go through to come out,
all the issues you had,
all the rejections you suffered, just for being that way.
I told you I understood your point, but today I know I will never completely understand.
I never needed to come out as straight.
It´s like the world was all made for me, for my boyfriend, and not for you.
You loved to travel.
You told me it did a great good to you.
You made sure to visit places where the gay culture was strong.
There you said it was really great.
It gave you strenght and hope that the world would change.
I LOVE IT!
You saw that there are places where the reality is different, better, more generous.
- ARE YOU READY? - NEVER, BUT...
You had fun, hugs, kisses, sex.
I remember you spent so much time on the issue that you were only bottom,
but you were thinking about being top too. And I would say:
"You go, my friend, dive in!"
And one day you came laughing to me to say you were a top with your boyfriend.
That it had to been great.
You were hungry to live.
I SURVIVED.
I understand your anger.
I prefered your joy, but I would also be angry.
I was angry when I knew that the hatred you hated so much had won.
First it came like they had ripped all the air of my chest.
An emptiness. A weight right here in the middle.
The floors broke apart. The knees lost strenght.
But just like I fell, seconds later, came that hatred of yours.
The one that comes from within.
A desire to go after who did that to you and kill. Really kill. Punch, I don´t know.
It was a horrible feeling.
It could have been a lamp,
a knife, a gun,
but it had been an iron bar.
They said we couldn´t even recognize your face because it was so deformed.
I don´t know why. I don´t know why.
I imagine you tried to defend yourself, but
I prefer not to think of you like that and how it must have been.
You´d tell me that those boys, those girls, those transvestites,
were just a few more numbers on a statistics
that on the next day no one would remember anymore.
But now you became one of them.
And I can´t forget.
Today the world left to try to see you better,
to try to understand everything that happened.
And I, unlike the world, can´t detach myself.
Can´t let you go, give up.
I´m more together than never.
Even though we never liked the word "never".
Now you´re not here, not even to be angry,
not even to change something. And I kept thinking:
What can I do?
What didn´t I do?
Where are we going?
Where will we stop?
I don´t know.
I say to myself: "Now I´m going to live fully,
be very happy in his honor."
But that won´t change the world.
I won´t be able to change the world my friend.
Maybe everything will really walk slowly.
Maybe all these losses can make some kind of positive energy turn in our favor.
Maybe with so many cases like this we will get tired and not used to it.
Maybe we will revolt even more.
There are a lot of people here fighting for everything to work out.
I think one day everything will work out.
I´m sure that there, on the other side of the rainbow,
you are full of "versatile" angels.
"Versatile". Just the way you liked it.
If I close my eyes
I can hear your laughter perfectly.
From here, on this side of the rainbow,
I saw that if you were capable of so much, I could go beyond too.
You were right.
There´s no reason to be afraid.
We only have this life to try to be happy.
Be who we are.
My friend, thank you. I´m not losing another second.
To all my friends who collaborated so that these records could exist: thank you. Love wins.
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