Extranho my sister. Extranho his voice and his laughter. My sister is not anyone. Companhera is my life. The brothers are not chosen but one can not separate them. The sister of a good friend, a colleague. Someone to talk. Someone to fight. The brothers we know the invisible bond that unites us.
Brotherhood is another relationship. This in between: it has the strength and bitterness of familiarity but has the complicity and comfort of friendship. The brothers with the same eyes we see completely different images. My sister has shown me the world in ways unimaginable for my eyes. She is ... a window that walks with me.
The guild seems to love, but different. The brotherhood is passionate and absurd, but since we can not choose our causes less damage. Childhood is the common place. The overwhelming memory of a time. The mother is the origin.
My sister is my friend. But also a monster who follows me. My sister has cried with me, has laughed with me and has traveled with me. She is in the desert map, a compass indicating where is the oasis.
My sister lives in France. As I write this she is sleeping. As she reads this I sleep. Our timing is unclear. This far.
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