Não é igual não by Juliana Cruz Medeiros

Dreamlike proletarians from around the world unite.

Copacabana is crowded, as usual. Sparkling genderless mechanical beauties expose themselves to the sun, recharging their batteries. At night, though, when the air becomes breathable once more, it is the real human being, in flesh and bone, who is once again the master of the city.

Rambling through the city’s artificial lights, confused by remnants of a lucid dream had during fake daytime sleep, the wonderer interacts with his own kind, but emotional glitches are evident. The relationships are synthetic. Having left the soul in a processor for hour on end has caused unavoidable mutations.

If our relationships with others are what define us, what does it mean to be a human being today? Juliana Cruz Medeiros went beyond: accepting the new post-human conditions, she recounts the world starting with scraps of memory picked up off the street, going on to piecing together the mainframe, and succeeding in evoking a deeply nostalgic and profound melancholic ancestral longing.

Man or woman… it doesn’t matter. Compatibility is first and foremost a question of reciprocal impulses. The diary she keeps is precious evidence of this relevance dissolved in apathetic decadence and it’s certain, when the moment is right, her diary will fall into safe hands. Music in place of words is the best way to encrypt a message. It only appears to those who know how to synchronize their ear, heart and brain accordingly. There is no risk any virus will ever be able to hack it.

Federico Spadavecchia – Frequencies