The Adam Boy

CHAPTER 7 - SOLITARY CARNIVAL

While anxiously waiting for the response to a TV internship, I spent many hours of my day writing for the website. I was not working anywhere else, and doing nothing in the city of Burma. It bored me and I dedicated myself to writing and filling the site with photos and texts. Like every beginning of the year, the summer rains were punishing the country; they were astounding catastrophes. On the coast of São Paulo there were deaths due to landslides and that was constant news on the site. They were houses that collapsed, people who drowned in the floods, material loss, and so many other disasters. I was producing like never before. And again thoughts came to me of what I might be doing. Was it necessary to be seeing misfortunes to be able to work more? With the photos we got with people who sent floods from their neighborhoods and cities, access to the site doubled. It was an audience like I have never seen before, and I signed the stories in an encouraging way. I found myself thinking again: Did a community have to be suffering for me to succeed in what I did? Was that social suffering good for me? When I posted tips for tours, cultural or daily news, I didn't have as much audience, but it was just putting some tragedy that the site "blew". I do not remember exactly who I hear the following phrase "A journalist always hopes for a tragedy to happen where he is, because he knows he will have a good report." I was not yet a journalist, I was still a student, but the Internet provides unimaginable power, previously obtained only from professionals in communication companies such as TV, radio, newspaper and magazine. Today if a child sees an assault at his school, he can report it through his social networks or his blog and the whole world will find out. I am afraid of the power that this medium can still achieve.

I returned to publish one more news.

January was almost over and there was nothing more on TV than Carnival. Everything was Carnival. Everyone commenting on what he was going to do at the parties; some were going to travel to the carnival of Bahia, others to Rio and some were going to see the samba schools of São Paulo in Anhembi. Only I didn't have anything scheduled. Everywhere that turned around was playing bad music that broke out like every year with one in that period. They were advertising jingles, they were forró groups singing the lyrics of forró, besides being present in great mass in the TV and radio programs.

When I joined SKYPE I found Dani online. She asked me what I was going to do at this carnival, and I replied that I had nothing in mind.

"Are you going to stay there in the fields?" She wrote. She said that where she lived it was far from everything and said it was a farm.

"I don't know," I replied. "But it's just that I don't want to leave."

"Ah, stop. I'm going to stay in São Paulo. Let's go to a little party here downtown. There will be a marchinha. Shall we?"

"Hum ... Ok, let's go"

"Cool. I'll call you when I go."

Would he really go? I was in doubt.

My friend Bil, the same one who went to the beach with me, called me and asked what I was going to do. I replied that maybe nothing. He wanted to go back to the beach or take a short trip. But at the last minute it was almost impossible to do that. I mentioned Dani to him. I said that if I went I would call her.

Two friends who will remember me on holidays. But even so, it didn't take away from me the feeling of loneliness. My cell phone's agenda was full of numbers for hundreds of people, but I couldn't call any of them and say "Hi, it's Adam. Shall we spend the carnival together?" I knew them, but none had such direct behavior.

One night, at exactly 1:57 am in the morning, I receive a message on Jair's cell phone, which, by the message, will leave at that exact moment of a ballad, which said the following:

I'm drunk with the woman I love, but I don't stand a chance with her. I do not know what to do. Help me ... SHE'S NOT WORTH IT.

What kind of help does he expect from me? When I called him, he said he was liking a girl, but he knew she was worthless, that he preferred to be with friends. Putz ... He said friends. Good to know you were on someone's friends list. It cheered me up a little.

January passed and soon the carnival arrived. As I already suspected, my only company at the carnival was the parade of samba schools that was broadcast by Rede Globo. But watching it hurt me. I was there, watching all those people having fun because I had no option. Everyone I came to talk to was, at that moment, doing something about the date. Not that it was of paramount importance. I had never liked Carnival, but I knew that, even if I didn't like it, doing nothing about it let me down. Whenever I heard the deplorable music highlighted by the date, it made me angry.

The day after the first day of the carnival Dani spoke to me on SKYPE again. He said he was very hungover, that he had a lot of fun, drank a lot of wine and listened to a lot of music. He asked me to show up in downtown São Paulo, as she was just going to rest for a while to return. I confirmed it, but knowing that it was confirmation of those that occur when there is no other solution.

I didn't go either.

There were some things that prevented me: one was that I was broke, another was that feeling of loneliness. I knew that to cure loneliness, nothing better than a good carnival to meet new people. But I don't know why I didn't go to the party with Dani.