London 10/02/1990 Saturday

London 10/02/1990 Saturday

Went to a party last night. First I went to Letitia’s house after work. Mauricio, Gilberto, 2 other Brazilians and Gilberto’s English girlfriend were there. I said I’d be there at 8 but didn’t make it until 9… Joe wouldn’t let me go until 8:15. So I got there and off we went, each one of us with a bottle of wine. We ended up in a squat belonging to some Italians. When I watched ‘Sid and Nancy’ I thought it was all a bit of an exaggeration, but turns out it’s not. After Gilberto’s girlfriend left it was only Brazilians, Italians, and Letitia, who has no nationality, or, actually, who has them all. The Italians gorged themselves on wine, hash and cocaine. I had three glasses of wine, a bit of a smoke and just sat there observing. Us brazilians carried on behaving in pretty much the same way, just a little bit merrier. Some of the Italians lost the plot, dropping bottles everywhere, being sick all over, drinking thrice as much as we did. It was like they were letting out all their demons… So repressed! If you need to drug yourself so much to have fun something isn’t right. My generation is so fucked up and without hope. Especially in Europe. Feels like humanity has reached a critical point… We either find ourselves or we will cease to exist. We are going to end up killing each other.

It’s sad, very sad…

So, there were 15 people at Joseph’s party last night. They played some Brazilian music, MPB. We decided we would stay there all night and just laid on the floor. Letitia, me and an Italian punk, who was very good looking and could do a perfect cockney accent were talking from 2:30 to 3:30, everyone else was asleep. The Italian punk said that Brazilian music was tedious and I said he didn’t even know what Brazilian music is and we also have rock. Anyway, all this nationalist paranoia isn’t very cool. I slept from 3:30 to 7:30, on the floor, and by 7:50 I had woken everyone up, I was the first one up, and I left with Mauricio and Gilberto. Got home and was at work by 9am. Saturday is the worst day! So busy. There’s an English-Italian guy who goes there regularly and… He says hi/bye in Portuguese to me. He’s about 27 years old and it was his birthday today. He went to the shop and bought lots of things for his party. Wherever I went in the shop he seemed to be there and eventually he asked me to go to his party tonight. He then started talking to Joe, invited him and asked him to bring me. He came back later and bought wine and we talked a little more. I’m so tired, I really want to go but I need some sleep.

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