[h2][i]Brazil[/i][/h2] [h2][i]nananananana Brazil,[/i][/h2] [h2][i]nananananana Brazil,[/i][/h2] [h2][i]Brazil.[/i][/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]And the music goes on, echoing in my head. I feel the trumpets and drums vibrating against the inner walls of my skull.[/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2]I have to get everything ready for the 11 o’clock meeting. It’s 9:30, and...[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2][i]Nananananana Brazil,[/i][/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]...the PowerPoint presentation is halfway done. I have all the information scattered between my laptop and my mind; I just need to...[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2][i]Nananananana Brazil,[/i][/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]...organize it and present it in the PowerPoint so the audience can grasp it at first glance. It’s not hard, but...[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2][i]Nananananana Brazil, Brazil[/i][/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]...that melody has invaded my thoughts. It keeps interrupting me. I lose track of what I need to do. I keep working through it all. That music won’t stop me; I must stay focused on reality. Someone walks past me, whistling. Lucky me. The song has a whistling part, and in my head, the orchestra shifts a bit.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2][i]Nananananana Brazil.[/i][/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]I already regret staying up late watching that movie I felt so connected to. Next time, I’m picking a Transformers film.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Fifififififi Brazil, Fififififi Brazil, Brazil.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]In the movie [i]Brazil[/i], something similar happened to Jonathan Pryce; he, too, was just a cog in a massive bureaucratic structure. Whenever he felt pressured, he would hear this same music in his head, taking him away to dream of vast green spaces, shining steel wings that allowed him to fly over paradise, and of being a hero saving a girl tormented by giant monsters.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Fifififififi, Fififififi Brazil, Brazil.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]And the more Jonathan Pryce dreamed, the more he confused reality with his fantasies. Reality also began manifesting itself in ways more terrifying than the monsters of his dreams.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Fifififififi, Fififiiffii Brazil, fifififi nananana.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]The mouse bites my hand. Its plastic parts open like a hippo’s jaws, clamping onto my hand, refusing to let go. I keep working on the presentation despite the pain. This can’t be real. I must stay focused on reality.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]The letter H on the keyboard jumps out of place and hits me in the face, leaving a bleeding wound. The V and the comma keys do the same. I’ll have to manage without those characters for the rest of the presentation. I’m almost done.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]The laptop’s network cable stretches out like a snake. It lashes me twice across the back, then coils around my neck to strangle me. Five minutes until the 11 o’clock meeting. I finish as best I can and rush to connect everything to the projector in the meeting room while the laptop and peripherals keep attacking me. I won’t stop; I must stay focused on reality.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]During the meeting, all the attendees act normally, including me. The projector, instead of showing the presentation I prepared, starts displaying nude photos of me.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]It also shows pictures of the women who broke my heart and of my pets that have passed away. The Marketing Manager asks if the annual budget includes online advertising expenses. I nod and reference the details in the annex of the presentation, even as the projector shows an image of my father’s funeral.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]How did the movie end? (Spoiler alert.) Jonathan Pryce gets lobotomized by the organization he works for, and his consciousness remains trapped in his fantasy world. That’s depicted on the movie poster.[/h2] [h2]I wrap up my presentation by listing the key conclusions of the financial analysis for next year’s budget. My colleagues applaud. At this point, I don’t dare look at what image is being projected on the screen.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nananananana Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]My coworkers warmly congratulate me on what they consider a job well done. Then, I head to the breakroom for a breather, only for the coffee machine to spray boiling water into my eyes.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Nanananananaaaa Brazil,[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]The movie [i]Brazil[/i] has a second poster, where Jonathan Pryce, wearing his suit of steel wings, escapes by flying over a wall of filing cabinets.[/h2] [h2]I wish I had that suit. All I have is a jacket, and now scorpions are crawling out of it.[/h2] [h2] [/h2] [h2]Brazil, Brazil.[/h2]
