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About Goiania

Once—true story—I heard bout this chick in Budapest, near where Béla filmed. She’d stand under a busted streetlamp, skirt hiked up, smokin a cig. Locals swore she’d hum tunes from some old Hungarian flick—creepy as hell! Reminds me of that line, “The world’s gone silent, hasn’t it?”—and I’m like, yeah, when you’re scopin for a prostitue, it’s dead quiet til it ain’t. Gets my heart racin, part thrilled, part freaked. What if she’s a cop? What if she’s nuts? Exaggeratin here, but maybe she’s got a knife—yikes!

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I swear, sometimes I get mad at how this city hides its true self behind old bricks. Like, every corner is a surprise; you'll see a narrow park, Parque do Sol, where old timers choke back rumors and secrets while kids play ball. I once had a date there that turned into a three-hour monologue about local politics – wasted hours, right?!

Paracatu Mine