02 [EN] - underwater

Once you don’t create your own routine to drink enough water, it sucks to develop it. I got thirsty all day, but I apparently can’t drink water like a normal person. The right thing to do is to drink two liters a day, I know, I’ve been told that already. I have also been told that it depends on how much you weigh. If it’s true, it’s over for me, I weigh too much.

When the problem is far from me, it is not already a problem, but an observation, a written topic that was left above a notebook so I can remember when I pick it up. The hard part is: I’m getting too much thirsty. It’s no use, I don’t bring a water bottle with me. When I do, I just remember to give a couple of sips when my throat is screaming for help. Then it’s useless, I can’t get to my two-liters-goal at this point.

I get thirsty all the time, I see that. I can’t run away from it, I’m a teacher. I speak too much. At home, I always spoke too much. I speak all day, I spend every single drop of saliva. It is good to have friend who like to listen to what I have to say, but I never have a glass of water next to me. Speaking is, for what I can see, a flaw, right? Andrea told me I have to speak less. But I need to be listened, Andrea, I need to be heard.

How can she know? She doesn’t talk much. If she knew stuff, she probably would have something to say. She must never be thirsty, not like me. Andrea works at my house for years, but she never spoke like me. She’s always there washing dishes, sweeping, complaining. Complaining does not let us thirsty, we can’t even listen to it properly.

I scream. I scream a lot, I want them to listen to me, I want them to understand. How am I going to do that if I can’t say it out loud, clearly and with detail. I feel so thirsty, I drink two little sips and then my throat is free, I can use it freely, I can scream as mush as I want… Right? It can be a cycle, but it’s not a problem yet, it’s just an observation, my throat is good as new.

I’m a teacher, I speak too much. I ask them if they understand what I say, they say yes, teacher, I do. I’m satisfied. But then I ask them to do some exercises and they can’t think about anything. I’m speaking alone, I see, that’s oddly a familiar feeling. My throat itches to day it all again, but I always feel suddenly tired, tired of trying. That’s weird, right? But I just need a couple of sips to say it all again, I’m not tired of screaming at work as I am at home.

But when I get home I have to run to the kitchen, I’m thirsty as hell. My grandpa sees me right when I first enter home and says: Why are you so, so thirsty? I was in silence for some time, grandpa, I’ve noticed I got thirstier when I’m quiet. During class, I don’t even have time to think, I can’t notice. I drank all the time we had, but it wasn’t enough. I can’t understand, this was the right thing to do, right? I did what everybody told me, I drank a huge amount of water. Why. Am. I. So. Thirsty?

Thank God I drank this big-ass water gallon. I screamed once again, but I was prepared this time. Every day, I make a huge fuss, it’s so often I can prepare a huge water bottle next to me, I know I’m getting thirsty. All that fuss is too much for my throat, I know. I even know how much water I need, like, the exact amount. That’s how often this is.

I wish I didn’t feel the need to scream. It’s not a problem, I know, it’s just an observation. But speaking softly it’s not enough, I can’t be understood. I need them to hear me! There’s too much water in the world, I can drink it later and the thirsty feeling is going to pass, I know.

Things change, I had to bring more water every I knew it was going to have all the screaming. Each time I had to bring something bigger. Before, it was a Lagoinha glass, the ones we have at the bar. Then it went to a cup. He said it tasted differently when we drank from that porcelain cup, what a nonsense. I didn’t even pay attention, I was too thirsty because I've spent too much time screaming at him. Then it turned into a bottle, the ones everybody uses again after buying. When we lose it, we always think, “I have to spend money buying this goddamn bottle AGAIN!” Yes, we do. Getting thirsty is unbearable. Til I get home, my throat is going to dry, completely.

When it went to the big water bottle, I started to pay more attention. What the hell is all this thirst. I don’t drink soda, he does, when he finishes I keep the bottle because it’s too liters, it fits too much water. But not even that bottle is enough. What?

It is going to worth it, I promise. You don’t have to worry, it’s not a problem yet, just an observation. Screaming isn’t good for your throat, I know, but it will pass. One day, I’ll scream so loud and so much that he will finally understand, he will hear me. I won’t need to scream ever again. My throat is going to be good as new and I won’t be thirsty like this anymore. The observation won’t get to the level of a problem. And he will understand me. I will scream so much one last time and it will fit into his head, I’m sure. I’ll drink more water, I know I need it, but there is no water that can quench my thirst. Soon it will pass. It will, right?

Andrea is talking more, I even think that’s weird. I said to her that she was talking more, but she said that it’s me who is talking less. That’s funny, I’m really not, I keep talking a lot. I scream like crazy at the phone, I never felt so much thirst in my life, I talk too much.

My grandpa stopped saying I was drinking too much water when I come home, but I know he sees me, and he notices how much water I’m drinking when I get home from work. Those kids, right? I have to explain a thousand times the same damn thing. When I think about it, it comes that weird familiar feeling, but that’s fine, I feel like I’m used to it. I repeat a lot, but at least I’m not screaming as much as do at night, at the phone. At least they are going to learn some Portuguese rules.

I spend too much time next to the water purifier, filling my bottle. It gives me a space and time to think, and I hate that, I think too much. The more I think, the more I want to scream, and I’m honestly getting tired. I don’t see a way out, I’ve tried everything possible, so he can hear me. But it looks like he can’t, I choke in water and he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying.

It’s like I’m underwater, submerged and untouchable. It’s a big water tank with a breathless depth and I’m there, alone, screaming like crazy, asking him to take me out of there. I can see him up there, he’s like a shadow, my eyes don’t work well underwater, but I know he’s breathing. He’s there, he sees me. I’m screaming, begging for him to take me out of there, but as much as he sees me, he can’t listen to what I say and I finally can’t do anything to make he hears me.

I know the sound travels differently underwater, but he’s not that far. Before I die, I’m sure he’ll notice me. He’ll see that I need help. It was three motherfucking years, it’s not possible he can’t understand my fucking signals. That goddamn porcelain cup, yes, you were right, it tastes different. What more do you want me to do? To say? To change?

Underwater is also very silent, and I know I think too much when it’s quiet. I was desperate to see that big amount of water in front of me, above me, under me, behind me. My throat hurts so, so much. I screamed too much, maybe it’s time to see it as a problem. Why do I fight so much with it?

I drank some more big sips underwater, while I watched him living his best life. I’m there, but he doesn’t listen to me.

I’m still thirsty, but I never screamed again.