introduction? deviations? tangents?

Call me A. (she/her). I’ll not disclose by now my full first name. I am not feeling ready yet - even though I’m pretty much ingrained on the internet, I can still find a sense of anonymity over here.
I’m currently living at one of the largest hell-holes of the third world - both in the number of living creatures and architecturally wise. Welcome to São Paulo, baby.

There are just too many people in this place - that I can surely tell you. Fortunately, I’ve managed to move over from a smaller city in southern Brazil from my past endeavors. Yes, I’m Brazillian - since I was born, ehehehe - but I will write here in English because of the detachment this language brings for me ¹. I both love ² and hate ³ this place. Leaving is not an option yet, though, since I’ve got my nana back in the south. Been living here for six years now, saving up, thankfully for the tech world/tech jobs, to move elsewhere when the time comes. Living in a…

cultural wasteland (and some personal philosophy ramblings?)

The first time I’ve landed here, my old website was created. That is gone, though, since I was personally hosting it and everything went haywire (my fault). High availability backups were not a thing I considered back then, so I’ll give you one chance to guess if I fucking had a single backup of it. Heck no.

Anyway, this - Cultural Wasteland, is a form of expression from experiences I’ve gathered (funnily enough) in the past 6 years. Connections with connections with connections. Copies of each other and what we see.
It is still under construction ⁴ since several underdeveloped ideas did not make it through, mainly due to time constraints. Holding together a job outside of hobbies is no small feat. ⁵.
However, as I wasn’t granted generational wealth by the chance goddesses, things will be like this for a while, as I’m actively moving against those chances. Moving on…

Aside from the my point of view reason, this is primarily supposed to connect with you - the one reading. I see you, you see me. The whole ordeal with being shy, reserved, pro-privacy⁶, and whatnot is that self-exposure does not get much personal attention. Intentionally or not. So this is my letter to whoever’s here (or not). We are related, at least to some degree. Even though I am alone at my apartment in this noisy-prone megalopolis, getting ready for another day tomorrow, I do not feel like that. Since spewing (or vomiting, the way this is structured…) this text out, we’re in each other’s company.

Sharing like this feels like a significant personal win, so thank you for your eyes, ears, attention, time, bytes of packets exchanged in our connection, etc. See you around (hopefully soon). Stay safe.

A.