A General Theory of Oblivion

THE SUBSTANCE OF FEAR

I am afraid of what’s outside the window, of the air that arrives in bursts, and the noise it brings with it. I am scared of mosquitos, the myriad of insects I don’t know how to name. I am foreign to everything, like a bird that has fallen into the current of a river.

I don’t understand the languages I hear outside, the languages the radio brings into the house. I don’t understand what they’re saying, not even when they sound like they’re speaking Portuguese, because this Portuguese they are speaking is no longer mine.

Even the light seems strange to me.

Too much light.

Certain colours ought not to occur in a healthy sky.

I am closer to my dog than to those people out there.