1985

I came back from the States to Rio. But not before listening to the Ramones and the Velvet Underground for the first time. And the second time, and so on. I heard her call my name, for sure. Rio was boring as daytime TV, to my numb surprise. I was not the beach bum type, and hated the sun, really. And going back to college was not that much fun, except for the occasional spliff.
Then I was back in my hometown on vacation, and met this alcoholic girl that was 24 or something. Unbelievably old for an 18 like me who had never even kissed a girl. And she had to kiss me, for I was pretty much unaware of the effect I was having on her. But the mail love thing didn't work, and I was too young for her. And she wouldn't go visit me in Rio, even though I was living alone, and told her it was OK.
Yes, my parents stayed abroad, and I went back to college, still unable to get into someone's panties. But I didn't really know what I was missing, so being a virgin wasn't that hard. I could always get stoned and listen to Revolver. Or this new band, The Cure, in concert. Trippy, yeah!