Original subtitles

Careful, it’s hot.

Did you take your medicine?

No. There's none left.

Yeah.

Where’s your brother?

Around here somewhere, I don’t know.

And is he alright?

Is he taking his pills?

He’s run out.

Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was coming today.

He ran out yesterday, I forgot.

And your mom, talked with her?

She called, said everything is fine.

Did she say when she is coming back?

At the end of the month, I think.

I’m visiting EfigÍnia at 11 o’clock.

I’d like you to come with me.

Wait here, I’ll be back in a bit.

EfigÍnia!

It just wouldn't heal, you know?

So, I had to spend another four months in hospital.

Yeah, but it was good you stayed there.

They took good care of you there... Changed the sheets for you...

...now you're home, you’ll be able to relax a little more...

- I'll be stopping by all the time - That’s right.

If we take it easy, we start getting better.

- There's far less pain now. - Oh, well that's good.

We have to be patient, right? We get there if we take it slow.

We have to be patient and not give up...

Ö because you’re looking really well.

Look, its Cristiano from the factory.

- You heading downtown? - Yeah, I am!

- Jump in, I’ll give you a lift. - Great!

André, go to the back.

- How’s it going? - Great!

This is my nephew, André.

- How are you? - Fine, thanks.

Gonna take a look around?

Sort of.

Back in time for the meeting?

I’m not really into meetings.

And Casc„o, any news from him?

No, I don't.

Him getting fired was a shame.

Marcos, you’re gonna be late!

We’re out of milk, you’ll have to drink coffee.

Ok.

If you don't wat to go to church on Sunday, you don’t have to go.

Ok.

Do you want to go?

No.

Do you believe in God?

More or less.

What do you mean?

It’s easier to believe in the Devil than in God.

Hum, how come?

In the world, it’s all killings...

...shootings...

...death

...and there are no miracles.

André. Go to his place,

get some clothes and his ID, he’ll need them.

Sorry for giving you all this work.

I don’t know what happened.

He was fine, conscious.

The doctor thought it was nothing serious...

...said he would get out later today.

But after he got here, he fell asleep

And never woke up.

I don't really know who to tell.

He lived alone, there wasn’t anyone else.

The guy who brought him to the factory moved away two years ago.

The secretary asked the police to look at his records.

They found something, but from ages ago.

Makes no difference.

It’s a waiting game.

I'm like anyone else.

It's just my life that was a little bit different.

It’s hard to choose something to tell.

Cause in the end...

...all we have is what we remember.

ARABY

I haven’t seen a pen or a notebook for years.

For me, it’s not easy to write.

But you told us to write something important...

About our lives in this notebook...

...so, I wanted to at least try.

At that time, I was living in the city of Contagem.

I had practically nothing, and nothing to fear.

For me, everything started there.

The day me and Luizinho decided to steal a car

...and we fucked up.

I spent a year, four months and twenty-six days in jail.

And there I met someone really important to me.

His name was Casc„o.

There are a couple of ringed birds over there.

Yeah, you're right.

It’s a way to feel a little bit free, right?

You’re scoring some points with God.

Hum, God?

Do you think he still remembers me?

When you asked us to write something about our lives...

...I thought I had nothing to say.

Even now, I’m not sure I do.

But after a while...

...I started to enjoy thinking about what’d happened to me.

I started thinking about everything I’d seen

...in the cities I’d been to

...and everyone I’d met along the way.

And I started thinking a lot about Ana.

And I realised that in all the things I’ve been through...

...our story’s the one I would like to tell the most.

The story of how life took me to Ana.

But to talk about Ana

...first, I have to talk about how I took the road after I got out of prison.

The story of how I stood up for myself.

Of how I won and lost.

The story of how I began thinking about my fate...

...and a bunch of stuff I hadn’t thought about before.

The first thing I did after I got out of prison

...was to hit the road.

I didn’t want to go back to the hood.

A few years before

...my mum had mentioned that a cousin of mine

...had bought a little farm near the Piracicaba River.

I got some money together and went after him.

Got a light?

Do you know how to get to Porto Feliz farm?

Keep on straight ahead,

...after a group of trees

...you’ll see the road appearing beside you.

Are you from around here?

I was born close by.

Travelled around for more than thirty years...

...before coming back to the place I grew up.

Today I fish in the same lake I used to play in when I was a kid.

Even used to bring my girlfriends here.

But it’s a little weird now.

The land’s the same

...but it’s all strange, it’s all different.

What’s your name?

My name is ZÈ,

...but people around here call me Barreto.

It’s a pleasure, Barreto.

There’s one crop per year.

Then Gilson buys the crop from him.

- He buys the crop? - Yeah.

And Gilson hires us.

So, Gilson is the boss.

Yeah...

...but Mauroís the owner.

I met an old guy up there, by the lake.

- Said he has a bar near here. - Ah, Barreto!

Does he work on the plantation?

He used to.

Barreto has a bad reputation around here.

People say he used to interfere with the workers.

They called him an agitator, a troublemaker.

Barreto is a good person. He's not like that at all.

After he started working on the land,

...the fruits got sweeter.

He knows how to work the land.

You don't mind sleeping there?

Sleeping is no big deal for me.

You don't like sleeping?

I never did.

It’s good to take a rest.

When there’s a bed we have to take advantage.

I've slept in all kind of places.

On the floor, sofas, chairs.

On cardboard with a blanket.

Two planks of wood on a concrete floor.

That was my worst sleep.

I've slept on a pile of sacks

on stone

In prison, I even used to sleep standing up.

Sleeping in the cold is the worst.

You need to wrap up otherwise you get sick.

It's a misery.

Working on the tangerines was good.

One crop per year...

...if you were lucky, from May to August.

July was when they really took off.

The trees were groaning with them.

There was so much fruit that they would be falling on the ground, rotting...

The boss hired people from the neighbouring farms to pick the fruit.

The small farms would sell to the owners of the big farms.

Not many had trucks to sell in the city.

With the tangerines, I learned the rhythm of the earth.

We sow so much, but reap so little.

Oh wandering traveller,

...heading toward the land I’m from,

...please make a stop by

...at the white house up in the hills.

An old woman lives there,

...who cries for a son of hers...

This old lady is my mother...

...and I am the one she misses.

Oh, oh, wandering traveller...

...please take this message for me...

Oh, oh, wandering traveller

...please take this message for me...

A man on the road starts his life again.

His goal is his freedom.

That was lost, taken away...

...and wants to prove to himself, that he has changed.

...that he has recovered and wants to live in peace...

...and never look back, say to crime never again...

'Cause his childhood was no bed of roses, no.

Painful memories of the detention center.

Yeah, making money, getting rich.

Many died, aiming high that way.

Tell me who would be happy, and who wouldn’t despair...

...seeing their child born into misery?

...in a place where the only attractions

...were the bar and the CandomblÈ for blessings.

This is the stage where I'm gonna tell you my story.

The story of a man on the road.

A woman who lived nearby

...told me Barreto wasn't in good health.

About two weeks later,

...Renan came and told me that he had died.

Without him, we wouldn’t have anything.

People don’t remember how it was around here, but I do.

I was born here, born hungry.

My father worked like a mule...

...came home stinking.

Had to do anything the bosses asked him to do.

He fixed chairs, sofas...

...just to make a little more money...

...because the pay was miserable.

- The bosses aren’t like that anymore. - Of course not.

He was the one who changed that.

He rounded up about two hundred workers,

...from the tangerine farms around here

Made them stop working.

Said to the bosses they'd not go back without a fixed wage.

The police came and arrested him.

There were some shots down by the river.

But people would not move.

And the tangerines rotting...

So, the farmers had to give in.

After that, things started getting a little better.

I don't go hungry like my father used to.

- The land liked him. - Yeah.

Around the end of the seventies...

...he started to bring the people together.

He was angry.

But it was good, it worked out well for us.

My father died as his friend.

Treated him like a brother.

He was a good person.

He moved around for about twenty years...

...in the state of Sao Paulo.

Then he ended up in Sao Bernardo.

He showed up on his own.

Worked as a painter.

Then he got a job at the Scania factory.

Then the strikes started.

He joined the union... ...started a picket...

...went on hunger strike...

...started handing out pamphlets.

He said he even met Lula, can you believe that?

He used to say...

"Little dogs

...shouldn’t take on the big dog.

But if you get a thousand little dogs together...

...the big dog starts to look small.

Let’s go.

Yeah, let’s go.

I couldn't get that conversation out of my head.

I was picking tangerines for three months and I hadn't seen a cent.

I went to speak to Renan...

....and he said he couldn’t do anything for me.

I decided to speak to the boss.

There's no money.

If there was, I'd pay you.

I’m not selling anything.

No fruit, no juice.

There’s nothing on paper.

I didn’t sign your employment record.

If you want to complain, get your things and go, but don’t come back.

Take some fruit.

There are more than five hundred boxes in the store.

All stacked up.

Take about twenty, and find a way to sell them.

A hundred boxes.

Plus, the truck on loan and Marciano.

Son of a bitch.

Miserable bastards.

I ate tangerines all day long so I didn't have to spend money on food.

In the end, the work at the farm was not very good.

But even now, here in Ouro Preto...

...I still remember Barretoís story.

I'm telling you, I've never been one to sit still.

But back then, all I wanted to do was work.

I thought that if I didn't work...

...and if I didn't sleep and get up early every day...

...I'd be wasting time,

...and watching others pass me by.

Near to Governador ValadaresÖ

...I met a guy who was hiring labourers to work on the 381 motorway...

I called Luizinho, and asked him to come with me.

And I'm afraid that was the first and the last job he did in his entire life.

- See if you can beat that! - On you go!

Go on and trump him, mate.

At that time, it was me, Luizinho and Nato.

Hey, you heard the joke about the Arab?

- About what? - The Arab.

This Arab was doing some work back in his country, right?

So, he hears about Brazil...

...cheap labor, you know?

So, he says to himself: "I'm going to Brazil, man"

So, he comes here...

...and hires five really good builders, you know?

Really hard workers, the type that just get on with it.

So, that’s fine...

...off they go on a plane.

And then there’s a problem on the flight...

Turbulence, you know?

Over the desert... the Sahara Desert...

They don't know what's going on...

...no idea at all...

The plane comes down and they freak out.

The builders are like: "holy fuck!!!"

They get out of the plane and say: "What the fuck is this?!!"

There's sand here, sand there, turn around, more sand...

Then one of the guys says: "Holy fuck man

...just imagine when the cement arrives we’ll be totally fucked!!!"

Daddy, I don’t want to be mayor, I might just get elected...

...and someone might want to have me killed.

I don’t need to read the papers, I can lie by myself

...I don't wanna hit a run of bad luck.

Daddy, I don’t want to prove anything...

...I've already served the country...

...and everyone wants something from me.

Oh, it's so easy to die young, but I'm not ready...

...to be nailed to a cross.

I’m not stupid enough to think I’m a hero...

...I'm vaccinated, I'm a cowboy...

...an outlaw cowboy!

Durango Kid only exists in the comics,

...and I’m not staying around here...

...it's up to you to make history!

Ok folks, now that the show's over...

...I have a little surprise for you.

It’s the famous Green Giant, guys.

- Babylon! - Pure Babylon!

Wow... that’s what I’m talking about!

- The grass! - Bob Marley!

Where’s that little lighter?

This came from my very own house.

From Bob Marley's back yard.

This is serious.

What a beauty!

See what this guy's up to Renato?

Look Renato!

What the fuck are you doing, man?

Jesus, you’re so crazy.

- What is it my brother! - Why are you doing this?

Off course, man!

If arrive there all cleaned up...

...they’ll beat the shit out of me, man.

He does this shit and I'm the one the boss will fuck with.

Well, now I’m fine!

Now I can say I’m a worker!

Now you’re getting it.

The food yesterday was so good.

After the end of the shift I ate so much, man...

...I was practically crippled.

I ate like a madman.

There’s a lot of stuff I don’t like eating.

Chicken, for me, has to be like this.

I’ll give you some stone to eat.

Stone? What you saying, man?

What type of food don’t you like?

Most stuff I don't like.

There’s some stuff that just won’t do...

...rocket, for example, or watermelon. I hate it so much.

I’d like to see if you’re starving

And rocket where do you see rocket here?

There’s none here, but look there.

Rocket is so nasty, man I wouldn’t eat it even if you paid me!

Sadly, Luizinho didn’t last long in the civil construction business.

Nato and me stayed on the site.

From all the friends, I made on the road, he’s one of those I remember most.

Nato, my son...

I hope everything is fine with you.

Your sister and I were worried we haven’t heard from you.

Last night the gate was left open...

...and when we got up the dog had run away.

We walked for over an hour before we found him.

Your sister is fine...

...and she finally got an appointment with the doctor.

All is well with me, thank God.

Your friends always ask for you when they see me.

Gabriel and Diogo send you a hug.

Aparecida's son was arrested last week

...and when I hear things like that,

...I feel relieved that you've chosen a different path.

I miss you all the time...

...but I’m happy to know you’re not here...

...because you’re working.

This morning, in the sermon on the radio,

...I heard a passage that said:

"Those who reach one mile beyond the shadows...

...are able to walk for two".

I hope you have many more miles ahead of you...

...and I know that if I see you again,

...I’ll feel even more proud of you.

Send a hug to your friends at work.

You don't need to worry about us.

Your mom sends a huge kiss.

Nato and I were on the road together for almost three years.

Holy God

During that time I did everything a man could do.

...packed products, made deliveries, picked tomatoes, harvested beans...

...and learned how to fix up motorbikes.

I don't know how many times I moved house.

I slept in bedsits, scrapyards, abandoned stores.

I stayed with the homeless folk in Itajub•.

Shared a roof with the poor and the sick.

I even went to an evangelical church

...but just for two Sundays.

...and I met lots of people...

...honest people, cheats, the poor, the rich and nice people too.

Everyone had a story, even the quiet ones.

The dawn is a lesson from the universe,

...that teaches us we have to be reborn...

The dawn of the new.

The road was my home.

I can hardly believe I lived like that for so long.

But nothing messed with me as much as something that happened one day...

...when I was working with Nato in a bar, near Montes Claros.

...there’s a cloud that passes over the mountains

...nestling its soul within the thicket.

And the more the light invades the earth

...what night conceals, day reveals to me.

The radio is now playing Rancho Fundo

...we are one, the world and I, and it all begins here

The dawn is a lesson from the universe,

...that teaches us we have to be reborn...

The dawn of the new.

The work had dried up.

Nato and I had been out of work for two weeks.

We ended up doing some renovation work at Dona Olgaís brothel.

The job got more and more complicated.

The place was old, and new problems came up every day.

One night, she asked me to get more drinks at the village.

There was hardly a dent in the bodywork.

The bumper was covered in blood...

...and I managed to clean it off on the way back.

I didn't have the courage to tell anyone...

...not even Nato.

The last thing I wanted was to go back to prison again.

I got my stuff together and left.

...and I never saw Nato again.

Let's go?

I spent four months going between TimÛteo, Coronel Fabriciano and Santana do ParaÌso.

In ParaÌso, I met a trucker, AntÙnio Carlos...

...who hired me to take some cargo with him to Ipatinga.

The worst thing to carry in the world is cement.

Those 50 kilo bags

...feel like they weigh more than a ton.

Have you ever carried roof tiles?

There is nothing worse than tiles.

Cement’s worse than tiles.

Tiles aren’t bad at all.

Yeah, right.

Timber’s terrible.

Timber’s easier for women.

Bricks and pumpkins.

A pig that is still alive. There's nothing worse.

Salt.

It burns your skin right off.

What's good to carry is...

...fish pellets.

You see that massive sack

...but when you grab, it’s so light!

Fish pellets are wonderful to carry.

Yeah, they’re easy to carry, but you end up stinking.

Potatoes are good to carry.

Coffee!

Coffee and seeds!

Corn.

Foam mattress!

Rice

Sand...

If I was not sick...

...I would unload that whole truck by myself...

...and save some money.

If I had money

...I'd go buy a forklift.

AntÙnio Carlos died from diabetes

...and I stayed on in the city.

I managed to find a clean bed, and a decent job.

And it was at the textile factory that I met the woman who changed my life.

Ana.

- Do you like crime novels? - No, I don’t.

If there’s one thing I don’t like it’s the police.

Here, they asked to deliver this to you.

And how many meters did they ask for?

Five thousand, I think.

- Don't you want to take a seat? - No, thanks, I’m too busy...

...have lots of things to do...

- Can you give this to Solange, please? - Yeah, sure.

All right.

I was embarrassed to talk to Ana.

I thought she was different.

More intelligent than anyone else in there.

But slowly, I got closer to her.

Hey there, how's it going?

- Great. - So what's up?

Are you going to the party tonight?

I'm thinking about it, are you?

I’d like to.

I could pass by your place later, if you like.

- No need, my house is so far. - Ok, then.

Truth is, I'm not that up for going, you know?

Really?

- Really. - Well, that's cool.

This party was going to suck anyway.

But if you're up for a drink later...

Straight after work?

- Yeah, straight from here. - Well... that seems nice.

There's a nice bar close to my place...

- It’s a deal. - Cool, then.

How many points did we score?

- Let’s see, five plus five is ten - Twenty eight!

Which one do we want?

I don’t know, you can choose!

- I like this little guitar. - The little guitar!

My God

I would give everything I have to go back to that day

...to that park.

When the whistle...

...of the textile factory

...screams into my ears,

...I remember you.

But you, without doubt are so angry

...or you want to pretend you don’t see me.

You who respond to the whistle...

...of a brick chimney

...why don’t you respond to the mournful cry of my car's horn.

You go to work without socks on in winter

...no faith in wrapping up...

...you don’t even believe in the cold.

The closest thing to a family I ever had was my time with Ana.

But it was just close, and was all a little sad.

I don't really know what happened.

I was feeling so much pain

...I couldn't sleep and I had a strange dream.

I dreamt that the factory was totally empty.

All the machines were on, but there was no one working.

I was running up and down, trying to check on everything.

Then some street kids appeared, causing trouble.

I was half asleep, half awake...

...probably because of the pain.

And I kept running after them, afraid they would hurt themselves

...checking they weren’t too close to the furnaces, to the machines

Then I woke up

...and saw that the sheets we’re soaking in sweat.

So I got up, took some medicine and the fever dropped a little.

But the pain continued.

So my sister thought I should go to the doctor.

I didn’t want to go, though.

I wanted to call you...

...but she thought I shouldn't worry you without reason.

We got there around ten thirty.

Then I called Solange...

...just to say I wouldn’t be going to work.

I got seen after two hours.

The doctor did some tests

...and asked me if I knew I was pregnant.

So I said no, that I hadn’t the slightest idea.

Then she said it was common to lose the baby for the first time...

...and said that I should stay calm, that everything was ok.

Then my sister said we should go home...

...but I told her I wanted to come here...

...cause you were the only one I wanted to see.

After that day, it all fell apart.

It seemed like a sign that we were too different to be together.

We didn’t speak the same language.

Ana and I weren’t a couple anymore.

We were the memory of a couple.

A month later...

...she asked me if she could be alone for a while.

I loved Ana more than anyone in my life.

Every time I write in this notebook I think of her.

She was the one who really knew how to write.

Everything she said, she said just right.

I try, but I never get it right.

I always thought about what had happened to us.

But I never found the right way to say how I felt.

Only now, writing in this notebook, I begin to understand.

I hitched a ride and got off in Itabira.

And look who I bump into, eight years down the line...

...on one of the most difficult days of my life....

It's a different reality, my friend...

It was Casc„o.

People turn their backs on you.

You’re not welcome anymore You're not accepted the way you were.

You have no money, nor a position.

Especially when you decide to change your life, my friend.

When you decide to change your life...

...people know that the easy money won’t come anymore

...you’re not going to come across that pile of cash

I have a sister who even asked me to stop visiting her.

Can you imagine a situation like that, my friend?

It’s difficult, isn’t it?

But it's the pure reality.

This is the reality of the streets, brother.

Naked and raw.

I feel something's wrong with you.

What’s up? What’s going on?

I only told Casc„o part of what had happened to me.

I wasn’t able to tell him about the child.

Casc„o invited me to come to Ouro Preto and told me about the job at the factory.

It seemed like a new life.

My house is yours, make yourself at home.

To a fresh start.

The way we’ve always been.

You'll soon be on your feet again.

You’ll have a new job.

Making some money.

Before you know it, you'll be in a new relationship.

With your nigger here, partner, your life’s gonna change.

The suffering is over.

Right after that Casc„o, got me a job at the factory.

I got back into heavy work.

Started back at the bottom, again.

Ana and I continued to talk.

I felt she liked me... And I liked her.

But it seemed like we were scared to speak about things...

...to open up.

After two months I was there,

...they laid off Casc„o.

Did you sell all your stuff at the pawnshop?

Not everything.

He only bought some furniture, the television, the sofa...

And the motorbike?

I sold it to Alex.

But I had no money. So I ended up with nothing.

If you think about it...

...everything a man gets in life fit into four small boxes,

...and wouldn’t get you two thousand at the pawnshop.

I never thought they would fire you.

Well, yeah.

Nobody could help you there?

I even thought about going to the guys at the union.

But I reckoned it wouldn’t be worth it.

Honestly

...the best thing I do is to move on...

After four months at the factory, they put me on night shift.

Sleeping during the day was hard.

I didn’t rest properly.

Sleeping two hours at night is better than eight during the day.

Our bodies hurt and our head is restless.

One day I got a letter from Ana....

What I have?

These arms and my mouth.

This is the body I have for you.

When I met you, I started by adoring everything you put your hands on.

And now I only have to remember you opening the door to my house...

...to know that we will still be together.

I don't remember the moment I realized that I loved you.

All I know is that I’m still going to see you opening that door.

...and I'll continue to love you.

In every word I write, my desire for you lives on...

...covering the body of this page that once was blank and empty.

Because I want you.

And that is something extremely simple.

Marina, my dear, Marina, you put your makeup on.

Marina you do everything, but please do me a favor.

Don't make up this face that I like, because it's mine.

Marina you’re already beautiful, with what God gave to you.

I've hated myself, been angry with myself. I can say no more

And when I'm angry, Marina, I don't know how to forgive.

I've forgiven so many things...

...you'll never find another one like me.

Sorry, Marina, my dear, today I’m upset.

I never stopped loving Ana.

Not once.

But I was never able to tell her.

And that’s what made me saddest.

I really wanted to have a child with Ana.

When we lost it, it felt like life was saying:

"it’s always gonna be like this".

I started to know the place I was living in a little better.

The Workers Neighbourhood was almost a world apart.

Around this time I started going to a theatre group at the factory.

I thought it might be a way of spending less time alone

...a chance to do something different.

And that’s when you asked us to write something important about our lives

...for the play at the factory theatre.

Hey!

- Alright? - Yeah.

Could you give me a hand here? It won’t take long.

I met MarciaÖ

...the nurse that takes care of people around here.

She looks after her two nephews too.

The older one, André...

...I always see around the neighbourhood.

- Isn't it open? - No, it isn't.

He’s always alone.

Seems like he doesn’t like living here.

Marcia told me that the parents don't look after the kids.

They travel a lot, and leave the kids on their own.

I felt sorry for him.

I know how sad it feels to grow up without your parents around.

When we're young, the world is a place full of things, full of promises.

But it feels like this factory drains people's hope.

I got to thinking about him here, in this little place

...full of smoke, full of old folk.

It must be sad growing up like that.

Ever since Casc„o had been fired

...I’d been losing the taste for going to work.

But that was different.

I felt my ears closing up

...and I went a little deaf for a few seconds.

And then something really strange happened...

...the noise from the factory disappeared

...and I could hear my own heart.

And for the first time, I stopped, and looked at the factory.

And I felt sad about being there.

And I realized that I actually didn’t know anyone.

That none of it meant anything to me.

It was like waking up from a nightmare.

I feel like an old tired horse.

My eyes hurt, my head hurts.

I don't have the strength to work.

I breathe heavily.

My heart pumps blood.

I wish I could take my workmates by the arm...

...and say to them that I’ve woken up.

That they've been playing us for fools all our lives...

I’m tired.

I want to go home.

I wish everybody would go home.

I wish we could abandon everything.

...leave the machines burning...

...the oil spilling...

...abandoning the pieces of iron. Leaving the conveyor belt on.

Hot lava spilling out, covering everything...

...burning the machines, the earth, the gravel...

...and the smoke rising up, black like the night.

...covering the sky and throwing money away.

And we’d be at home, drinking water, sleeping in the afternoon...

We would cough up the black smoke...

...choking up those pieces of iron from our lungs.

And our blood would stop being a river of minerals...

...of bauxite, of aluminium, and would run red again...

...just like when we were young.

And this is why I want to call on everyone,

...the furnace workers, the electricians, the solderers and foremen...

...the men and the women

...and say to each one of them:

"Let’s go home,

...we're just a band of old horses".

But I know that no one would listen.

Because no one like to hear these things.

But I want to say to each one of them.

Our life is a sham.

And we're always gonna be like this.

And all that we have, is this strong arm,

...and our will to wake up early.

That night...

...I dreamt I was in a forest.

...this dream that I’ve been having for more than ten years.

I dreamt I was alone in a forest.

In the distance, I could hear the sound of people looking for me.

And it felt like I had done something wrong.

I lay down.

Alone.

And I spent many days in this forest.

In time, the sound faded away...

...and people stopped looking for me.

And all night long, I thought of just one thing.

I was alive,

...and I could still breathe.