Dear diary, I have a lot of things to say, and, at the same time, I want to keep my silence like a frozen stone immersed in a lake, in a place so far away from here. But I’m not far away from here. I’m here, and there are a lot of things happening at the same time.
Dear diary, it’s so disappointing how the far-right is advancing around the world. It’s so disappointing how people in Brasil, and in other countries, are eating fake news for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And you try to show the truth; you show the truth; however, some people love fake news. Those are shit.
Dear diary, sometimes I don’t recognise people who I knew. And I remember about them too late. When I’m in another place, in another moment. I’m not frustrated about it. I only wanted to write it here, and I wrote. Because I needed to write something.
Dear diary, this is the last paragraph. So I want to say how proud I am of myself. I still didn’t conquer all my objectives, my dreams, but I have the energy, the power, and the vision. And my vision now is better than a few years ago…
Dear diary, I’m gay, I’m queer, and if the far-right doesn’t like it: fuck you, far-right!
Love and more, Victor dos Anjos.





