This song marks the beginning of a new chapter in my musical journey—a path where I began combining poetry into melodies as a way to express my vulnerability.

This song tells how the different parts of me, my many inner selves, are forever in dissonance.
How can I deliver a message as a whole when I am made of fragments?
How can I speak with one voice without first negotiating a peace treaty with my own demons?
Perhaps the truth lies not in silencing them, but in letting every voice be heard.

This is an oddly beautiful song, where I play with different harmoines, ways of shaping text and ways of singing to express my eagerness to embrace the never-ending labour of being an artist—the discipline, the doubt, the devotion, and the endless work of turning something deeply felt into something that can be heard.

This song is a cry of pain—the pain of giving so much of yourself and receiving far too little in return. It may sound like the aftermath of a romantic relationship, but its true subject is something else entirely: leaving a job that was beautiful in many ways, yet quietly toxic. A farewell to something I loved, even when I knew it was slowly asking too much of me.

This is the song that gives its name to my debut album, which I’m planning to release in 2027. It speaks of leaving one’s home, of the many experiences that shape us along the way, and of how fragments of life—its losses, its transformations, its fleeting moments—eventually find their way into music. It is about turning lived experience into sound, and finding a place to call home within the songs we create.

This song is named 'D'iuminuto'. It's a wordplay with the word 'diminished' in Portuguese, and to make justice to the name (or the opposite), I wrote it with almost only diminished chords and it has to be played in exactly ONE MINUTE.

'De minuto' is how we call diminished chords in Portuguese, and it means 'minute chord'.

This song is an exploration of origins—not just where I come from, but of all the places I’ve been, physically, mentally, and spiritually. It reflects the spaces that have shaped me, the experiences that have taught me something, the encounters that have transformed me, and the moments in which I found inspiration or became a source of inspiration for someone else. It is a reflection on the many places, people, and versions of myself that have contributed to who I am today.

This is the last song I’ve written so far, on August 03, 2026, in the train from Prague to Berlin. It came after a burst of beautiful things happening in my life, while I was still processing a deeply difficult experience. I was finding my way towards a greater alignment between mind, spirit, and body, and as I wrote this song, I began to realise just how far I had come on that journey. Still, I knew that reaching a deeper sense of balance would require patience, consistency, and the willingness to keep showing up for myself, even when the path becomes difficult.

A collaboration with my dear friend Loy, with whom I share many perspectives on life. The lyrics explore the idea that it’s okay to return to the thought of someone dear to us only at the end of the day, even if they were already on our minds when the day began. In a world obsessed with immediacy, constant stimulation, and instant connection, this feels like a small act of rebellion.
To me, the song is also a reminder of the importance of turning inward and making space for ourselves, allowing sadness to exist without immediately reaching for something to distract us at the first sign of discomfort. Perhaps there is a quiet kind of freedom in learning to sit with our feelings rather than rushing to escape them, and in trusting that what matters to us will still be there when we return to it. It's all part of life.

Another collaboration with my dear friend Loy, with whom I share many perspectives on life. A reflection on the race against time, the struggle to find purpose, and the forces that shape our choices. Between pressure, illusion, and the search for truth, it comes from our endless questions about who guides our lives and what keeps us fighting for what truly matters.

This is a song that connects me to where I come from, bridging places, memories, and feelings through sound. It takes me back to the life I once lived and the places I’ve passed through, from Minas Gerais to Weißensee in Berlin.

The sound of the bell evokes a sense of home, bringing back memories of Brazil’s blue skies and warmth, even when winter settles over Europe and its cold and darkness seeps into our feelings. It is a reminder that, no matter how far we travel or how much we change, some places never really leave us. They continue to resonate within us, finding new ways to express themselves through music.

This song is a reflection on the desire to have answers to life’s questions and the realisation that perhaps not knowing is part of what makes life so interesting and colourful. If everything were as we wished it to be, painted only in shades of pink, we would miss the depth and beauty that darker, more vivid, and more neutral colours bring to the picture. Every shade has its place, just as every experience, whether joyful or painful, contributes to the richness of being alive.

For me, light is what allows us to see all these colours, and that light is Jesus Christ. Through Him, I find a way to embrace the full spectrum of life, including the parts I don't yet understand. Ultimately, the song suggests that some answers are not meant to be written, but felt, seen, and discovered within ourselves.