no waiting for tomorrow

• Petropolis: we feel like we’re watching the same movie every time it rains
• Brooms: In the stories of the new museum, a past that does not fit into the window

With a beer in tow, I could see the old Marina building and a gambling bar. This is where my school group learned about what an “American party” was, dancing to slow music and even the fateful (and very difficult for some) first kiss.

Marina no longer lives there. Neither did Aunt Marisa, his mother and one of the coolest women I’ve ever met. Of this group of discoveries, I only know something thanks to social networks and, even then, when the algorithm gives me news.

At the very end of Bambina there is an abandoned house. The roots have already invaded part of the facade and the roof. Anyone who sees it thinks it doesn’t matter. A former President of the Republic lived there. As a child, Fernando Henrique Cardoso ran from one side of the now ruined building to the other. Although he was born in Rio, the sociologist’s academic and political career took place in São Paulo.

• Mixture of traditional European ballet and repertoires from the streets of Rio: a walk through the history of Rio’s theaters

When my grandmother Yolanda invited me to lunch, there was no negotiation. He didn’t let go of the ball until it appeared on the wall of Floriano Peixoto, in Petrópolis. She hissed and woe betide me if she didn’t. I lost my grandmother when I was 13. I still remember his whistle today.

I talked about my grandmother and remembered Aunt Assunta and Ivana, her daughter and great educator of the state of Rio. Italian, Aunt Assunta ran a terreiro in Valparaíso, in Petrópolis. Without understanding anything, I got tired of playing ball in the space where I would soon have the ritual of faith. Slowly, at the right time, they asked us to stop playing football. Under protests, we stopped. Today the place is a hotel. I don’t even need to say that unfortunately Aunt Assunta and Ivana are no longer here, right?

• Place Eleven: the place destroyed by Rio belonged to Tia Ciata, samba and religiosity

Nostalgia is usually a dish we always eat raw, but failing to respect time is a pact with loss. I am writing this column while listening to two songs, “Oração ao Tempo”, by Caetano Veloso, and “Tempo Rei”, by Gilberto Gil. Knowing that they are 80 years old makes me so anxious.

• The hidden stories of Catumbi: the neighborhood was synonymous with elegance and prestige in the 19th century

All this to say, at the start of 2026, live your life and be happy. No waiting for tomorrow.