Prática Docente I - Class of 25' by Jonathan Gustavo Pessoa C. de Lima

gstvpecali — 2025-09-18 11:07:50 UTC

Two roads in my hands
morning steam lifts from the cup
one sip, then the world

gstvpecali — 2025-09-18 11:09:12 UTC

A whole; a part; apart; away; a way; stay?

gstvpecali — 2025-09-18 11:11:22 UTC

My body filed a complaint: “Stop caffeine, sleep before midnight.” I appealed. At 3 a.m. my knee unplugged itself and rolled under the couch. I offered yoga. It countered with a sneeze so violent my soul took a sick day.

gstvpecali — 2025-09-18 11:14:38 UTC

The microwave says 7:12 since the last blackout, my phone says 7:08, and the kettle quits on its own schedule. I pour to the chip on the mug, stir twice clockwise, once back. In the hallway the light blinks on off on, and my steps fall in. At the stop, the woman with the green scarf folds her paper into fourths, the kid mouths a rhyme, the driver taps the wheel three times. The bus brakes hard; we lean together for a breath, one minute shared, then drift back to our separate clocks.

gstvpecali — 2025-09-18 11:45:53 UTC

Enjoy.

2025-09-18 13:42:31 UTC

Pressing on my chest

Rough licking, smooth meowing

"Human, feed me"

2025-09-18 13:43:36 UTC

think, re-think, overthink, plan, overplan, notimeforaction

2025-09-18 13:46:28 UTC

5:30 in the morning. I groggily open my eyes, a being of pure light floats above me. It punches me conciousless. 6 o'clock. I open my eyes again, face hurting. I need to get up. This time, the being is beside me in the bed, it holds me back. I fight. And I fight. I lose. Tiredness takes me. 7:15. I am already late. Scared, I open my eyes. The being is gone. I go about my day.