Translated by: Ricardo Cerdeira
Accents are such a beautiful thing, aren’t they? So delightful to hear, feel every word. Pronunciation is something out of this world, it’s so sexy. The little way everyone’s got of expressing themselves, the ever-changing vocabulary from town to town, country to country and continent to continent. It’s a whole other thing when you spend so much time with somebody that you begin catching their speech patterns and slang. Knowing that somebody is friends with someone else due to their accent and ideas, jokes that reveal themselves through conversation. I find it so special. Strong accents totally hypnotise me, a remarkable and revealing accent that speaks to me about the unknown origins of those I didn’t know existed five minutes ago. Origins now familiar. The sound of each letter marks someone’s experiences, where they’ve been and with whom they share their joys and sorrows, their faiths, and if the conversation’s good, even their way of life and of loving. Now that I’m thinking 'bout it, an accent mirrors so much, everything turns transparent. Each well-pronounced word is a brand-new revelation. I’d pay so much money to know what my accent says about me. If it says anything, that is. This weird and mixed accent, if I can even call it that. But don’t be fooled by my secrets, where I’ve been and loved, where I stay being and loving. Everything’s out in the open for whoever’s got the patience. Come listen. Everything is tidy to my clumsy ways of someone who pronounces syllables wrong ‘cuz my tongue gets stuck.
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