Ivo Escobar
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ivoescobar.bsky.social
Ivo Escobar
@ivoescobar.bsky.social
120 followers 98 following 6K posts
Let's suppose you wanted to check my bio because I said something you didn't like. Will it change your opinion? No, it will only make you more pissed because I happen to be relevant. So if you liked something I said, hit follow and let's go! On Spotify.
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The funny thing about my Bluesky, if not social media in general, is that if you dare to look at the history of things you've posted, you'll potentially relive all the fucking desperation that went into the process of saying things out loud when you were absolutely vulnerable -- but nobody cares.
quer dizer, se fosse "britadeira de piroca no cu da tua mãe" ia ter vários ali falando "ae, quem é essa cara meo, folgadão, vamo zoar ele" mas como era eu com meu nome mesmo, aí foda-se, e detalhe que todo mundo ignorou mas tinha lá gente que tava ligada que são os mesmos fdp de muitos anos atrás...
Eu gostaria muito que houvesse um canal, mas sempre que eu volto ao site, eu me altero. Acontece alguma coisa, tem um burburinho... Ou seja, não é um site sério, que tem uma política de privacidade correta. É uma bosta mesmo. Pra que insistir? Recentemente, eu fiz conta como ivoescobar, zero papo...
Nossa cara, depois de ver tanta merda, como que pode eu sonhar que a solução pra mim é o faceflow? será que eu tenho que mudar de atitude com os jovemzinho? será que as pessoas querem fazer amizade comigo? cara, são os mesmos pegadorzinho de merda, tudo moleque sem noção, otário, ridículo...
I feel like my classes have turned into very consequential events and I don't know what to make of it.
I wanna go back to sleep. Being with Olivia when I'm asleep bring me peace... I just sisn't expect her to turn into a tiny puppy that I grabbed in my hands... :(

Ever missed someone so much you could actually die?
And I wonder if Emma will ever understand that she's a little girl, and Olivia is a woman.

But apparently you can't even say that out loud...

And I'm the one who's got audacity!
I don't like the vision I had in my dream. I'm not gonna say it but I hope she's still an empowered woman who has everything under control.
I wonder how Olivia is doing.
I wonder how weird it is to share your dreams on social media. Meaning: what you saw and felt while you were asleep, not your aspirations.

Because sometimes it gets crazy.
If I have one piece of advice to people across the world wanting to make international friendships is that they acknowledge that, somewhere along the way, conversation was lost. And if you show that you're able to be a good person, they'll appreciate it.

But that doesn't apply to my ex. Lol
If you must know, I have a new song and it's interesting.

Wrote the lyrics to 4 or 5 others.

Maybe the reason I'm so unsettled is like, LinkedIn.

Everyone agrees how annoying, how fake LinkedIn is, but ever thought about it from a security standpoint?

Chilling, you know.
The lady didn't accept my request and they closed the job.

You know, I feel like it's something important. What I do. I don't think about people's opinions of it, I just do what I can and I think it's enough.

But coming back to my problems along with world problems is a horrible thing, you know.
My real work is what I'm gonna spend the next 2 hours doing: teaching, now online. And if my dad wants to convince me that I need to stop being lazy and work in a regular school, idk, I'll wait it out.

Barcelona isn't gonna happen. He said: "why don't you go, then?" -- and I made a contact.
Some of my work is under a paywall because I've spent a lot of time playing with social media.

I just realized one day that I wrote songs and they already listened to them while they sat in my computer. So why not put the paywall? Anyone can break it. But the right thing is to pay.

Idk man.
That's what puts me in a delicate position. My surroundings.

And you know what man, this city is definitely not fucking poor.

It's this conglomerate, it's this specific part of town.

I was thinking about the rest of my life with the Master's. Finding a job, a rent, and fuck this shit. But no.
I'm never gonna know who's with me. I see cashiers for example. No fucking clue what they think or what they know. I see old time neighbors. Complete apathy, often dismissing a wave hi. Then the young people coming to celebrate some fucking secret convo or these dudes, slightly older, threatening.
I'm happy when someone who thinks about the same stuff as me follows, likes, whatnot.

It's even interesting if they're not following me, but they post things I genuinely find interesting and helpful.

It helps me read the room.

But every now and then, people start screaming as if the web knocked.
We already know that the dating app industry doesn't want us to talk. And that if we attempt to, we need to pay.

Think for five seconds and you'll realize every cam meet up website is a scam, and the professional models shouldn't be on your Instagram.

But real people? Good luck finding them.
I was feeling so annoyed that I had to go to sleep.

Maybe it's because I lived my life for so long with a lot of people I could rely on -- for different purposes, if you get the hint.

I mean, that tends to put your problems on the side.

That's why obsessive control of the media bothers me.
I saw about the event after following Earth to Eve, who's been writing impactful songs. A pleasure to meet you. Anything I post out of the ordinary is an attempt not to start screaming.
Mas sabe o que foi a pandemia segundo o meu pai? Um experimento do Obama com fabricação de arma química, coordenado pelo Fauci.

Na falta de exemplos das situações que eu tenho que lidar, fiquem com essa aí.

E não me encham o saco. Se toquem.
Aí depois quando eu vou falar com a minha mãe, que trabalhou em hospital em diversas funções, não só enfermagem, eu tô sendo idiota pq a minha mãe seria uma pessoa dissimulada... meu pai vê como "inaceitável", ou "incompreensível", que eu queira falar com ela.

Imagine ele ouvir.

É foda.
Eu dou testemunho aqui que na época da pandemia, a nossa casa era insalubre. Minha avó estava em estágio avançado de Alzheimer, e meu pai cuidava dela do jeito dele, e eu não questionava nada. Mas vc tinha uma pessoa acamada, sem tomar banho, cagando, mijando e se babando. A casa toda suja.

Suave?
Mas eles vão evitar falar disso por muito tempo, viu?

Ao mesmo tempo, os que arquitetaram tudo estão sim de olho nessa postagem, e listando pra alguém que exerce poder agir a respeito.

Pode ser a indústria farmacêutica, pode ser um político com ações da mesma, ou pode ser um maluco.

Ninguém sabe.