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About Belo Horizonte

She’s got this scar, Clarice, riiiight here—chin jagged. Says it’s from a john, glass bottle, 2019. Adds character, I say, she just smirks. “Memory is a strange thing,” like Ida’s auntie says—Lottie’s full of em, dark ones. Thnk she keeps em like trophies. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s larger than life, swear it. Smokes like a chimney, cheap cigs, stinks up everything. Hella funny tho—called me “fancy pants” once, nearly died laughin.

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The barrios vary, ya know? Over near Vila das Flores, there’s a mad vibe – aromas, colours and life. Streets like Avenida Luz Perdida have neon nights that remind me of a surreal dream sequence. I walk by the river Rio Calma, which winds by the neighborhood, sometimes chattin’ with the stars (or so I like to think on wild nights) and its ripples echo those soft acoustics of my fav tunes, kinda like when Taylor sings "I knew you were trouble," repetitively, echoing off damp walls.