From the inside.

Desde os primórdios da raça humana é assim: o homem lutando pela sua sobrevivência e sendo cretino com a mulherada. Maaaano, isso dói tanto que nem dói. Acho que eu nunca estive tão trabalhada no clichê como agora. Por quê será que é tão divertido ser cuzão brincar com os sentimentos alheios? Eu me sinto uma velha, mas será que só eu acho que muita bagunça e curtição com a galerinha do barulho só são legais na Sessão da Tarde? Então o esquema é sair pegando geral mesmo, porque é assim que se encontra alguém decente pra você. GENTE, cadê a lógica nisso?! Pra quê coração então?! Acho meeeeesmo que ninguém é obrigado a gostar de ninguém, mas também não precisa sair dançando flamenco nos sentimentos alheios. E meu filho, dor de cotovelo é uma coisa que dói, hein. Me dá uma crise renal, mas não me dá dor de cotovelo. Essa sensação de ser a pessoa mais sozinha do mundo é horrível, quem foi o corno infeliz que inventou isso, pelamordideus?! Nem chorar dá mais, são dois anos brincando de io-iô com uma pessoa que nem existe não tá nem aí com a hora da paçoca! Outra coisa filha da puta sem graça que inventaram foi essa mania de gostar de ter mulher pegando no pé. Vai lá, dá toda a corda pra vaca bonita se enforcar, depois puxa, sem dó nem piedade. Será que faz bem saber que tem alguém sofrendo horrores por sua causa, e só eu não descobri isso ainda?! Quer saber?! Eu quero mais é ver sangue Holanda. E eu juro right here right now que vão ser os 10 dias mais fodas da minha vida. E da dele também.

Sei lá. Não consigo falar tudo isso, achei melhor escrever. Tentando manter alguma sanidade nessa cabeça de meldels.

"Take everything from the inside, and throw it all away, 'cause I swear, for the last time, I won't trust myself with you." ...aham, Cláudia, senta lá.

Drama Queen.

"You know... I do have some choices. I can wait for when I can get to meet you... then look into your eyes... and see that I was terribly mistaken... or not, which is what I trust with all my heart now. Or I can keep dreamin of this whole stupid feeling I've created alone (what makes you a bastard, cause you faked everything, logically), til the day I'm done with that. Then you'll be nothing but a bad memory. And I can avoid that for a while, cause of all the space I gave you in my life... but then it's gonna fade away... as you hurt me little by little... until the day I look at your face and say "what a waste of time"... and when that happens, it's done. I wish I was polite like you at that point... acting friendly for nothing... but I can't... I'm not that false... I can't fake feelings like you. And you will notice my coldness. Or not. Cause it doesn't matter to you anyway. I won't ever hate you, but you'll be in fact a stranger. Can't think of anything sadder than this. All the words, all the promises... worthless. As they always are. I'm tired. I feel like screaming everytime I get myself wandering round your facebook's page, or dying to think of something to talk to you on MSN. Gosh, this is gonna be hell, but I can't stand it anymore. Cannot make it nice now... it's too painful. I need some time to remember how to breathe without this node in my throat. I realized I'm afraid like hell of movin on. But you give me no choice. I love you, I'll keep lovin you, and I don't give a fuck for what you think of it. Anyway, I'll move on. You've got it. I can't stand all this stupid pain. I don't deserve to be treated unfriendly... fuck it! You're nothing to know what I deserve or not! You liar!
You said once that you like big emails to read, so here it is. And please, be sure I'm in hell right now. Everyday you wake up, everytime something makes you remind of me, you'll remember that. And I hope you feel great, cause you've got what you wanted.
Someday your irresistible blue eyes will meet my shiny dark ones ("ohhh, how sweet of him, he notices my eyes..." bullshit.) and I hope you see all the pain you caused me in them (con mucha honra, Maria del Barrio soy!). God, I won't ever forgive myself for being that stupid. I LOVE this mexican soap opera way of life.

Happy 1 month of nothing to you, babe."

Discutindo a relação e praticando o inglês. Adoro. zo/
Beijomeliga. Ou não. ;)

Larger Than Life.

"You can't see me as I want you to. You're not what I've always dreamt of. You're humanly flawed, and my eyes refuse to believe what they see in yours..."

Oh dear, what a lack of problems.

Sometimes what makes you happy is not a meaningful thing. Not even necessary. And the more you fight for it, the more you crawl and suffer. Is it really worthy at all? Is it really worthy of you? Of your mind and soul? Can't you see you're far better than this?

Don't you maim yourself like this, dear. Pain is inevitable. Suffering is up to you. And only you.

Porque, de fato, nem sempre o que você realmente quer é o que você realmente precisa ter.

I'm in. You're out.
There's no space enough for both right now.
You've gotta leave.
Gonna throw you away from my thoughts.
Give myself some peace.
Gotta help my soul into these sick thoughts of you...

Sejam felizes, porque meeeu, o Red Hot Chili Peppers e o Tokio Hotel existem. =D

Kuss, rufen Sie mich an.

Move along.

Right back what is wrong, we move along.



And it's time to let go.

Beijomeliga.

PS: The All American Rejects - Move Along

Gotta check in to rehab...

...'cause baby, I'm sure it's a disease. Some kind of virus. I can say that it's the worst one I've ever had. It's not the first time it happens, of course. I've already had some other diseases, but I've got the right medicine I think, and never heard about them anymore. They won't ever affect me again. But with this one, things are different. I don't know what happened to my defenses. I'm helpless. The other ones, I can avoid easily now. But this fucking one is getting harder then harder to vanquish. I know it senses my weakness. I know it reads my thoughts. And I know it always know how to understand my words, as I know it's doing now. And the worst part of this sickness is... I love it. I love it to the bone. Just love it and always did. And in some insane way, I need it. I've always needed. We've tried to kill each other once... for a while. I've almost forgotten that I had it. Even thought I had erased everything. But, unfortunately, it was just sleeping. And came back as a hurricane, bringing everything back to my memories. Yeah, It's a virus for sure. Now it's 5 in the morning, and I'm here, thinking of ways to win this war. I've been kinda coward trying to run away from it, but I'm tired now. I can't stand this sickness anymore. Better kill it before it kills me. Even loving it, I know it's not gonna take me anywhere. I'm gonna be alone, as it always left me. Time to look for salvation. For me, not for it. Not for us. Not anymore.

"You're the reason why I'm thinking,
I don't wanna smoke on these cigarretes no more,
I guess that's what I get for wishful thinking,
Shouldn't ever let you enter my door,
Next time you wanna go on and leave,
I should just let you go on and do it,
'Cause now I'm using like I bleed,
It's like I checked in to rehab,
'And baby, you're my disease..."

I can't talk about it looking into your eyes. I really don't know why. Cause seriously, I feel like I have nothing left to lose about you. Not my fault at all, you know. You've never done anything to show me my importance in your life. Never. When you show me something good, there's always something annoying to put me down again right after. I've never understood what's up between us. And man, it's reeeeally hard to admit, but I want you. So bad. I'm not proud of it at all, but I'm gonna stop blaming myself for it. I love you. Like never did. And I know you know it. It makes me ill, but it's not gonna kill me. So choose your side. I won't die for it, cause I already know what is life without you. But I wish I could know if I've always been alone in this. If I'm just crazy bout all of this, let me know. Help me to get sane about you again... or at least try to.

I refuse to keep dreamin. Wake me up, please.

Beijomeliga. zo/

Es ist vorbei.

Enough. That's it. C'est fini. Chega. Tá afim de enlouquecer antes dos 25? Não? Mas então você diz que nunca foi tão feliz e tão triste na vida, que isso nunca se misturou tanto como agora... putz, meu, quer saber? Foda-se Nem ligo hein. Nem eu nem o Papa. Nem pense que eu vou começar a dissertar a respeito de quão linda é a vida, e tão maior que tudo isso que você tá sentindo agora... porque não é. Nada é maior do que nada do que você, e só voce, sente. Mas disso só quem tem consciência ééééé... você. Ô, que merda hein?! Que tal um pouco mais de coragem pra enfrentar verdades? Daquelas beeeem filhas da puta cretinas verdadeiras sabe? Que você faz questão de nem olhar pro lado delas, pra ver se elas explodem, sublimam, se suicidam... mas não hein, cara. Elas fazem questão de se jogar na sua frente e fazer você trombar com elas o teeeempo todo. Mas ôôô... então... who cares? O mundo não pára pra você chorar as pitanguinhas não, filhote. No fim das contas, ou você passa por cima delas, ou elas vão passar por cima de você. Sem dó. E eu vou achar o máximo ver você sofrendo até os ossos doerem de tanta frescura. Porque vai ser aí que você vai aprender a tomar vergonha nessa porra dessa cara e virar gente ser feliz. E cuidar disso aí que você carinhosamente chama de "eu".

Beijomeliga.

"Hope you don't forget me..."

Ok. So, it's just for you to know that I'm thinking of you right now. I can see that wonderful smile coming to me... right before the beary hugs... and like you said to me once, even your smell I can scent. We're sitting together and singing... SOAD or Nirvana of course... I can hear your voice clearly here... then I rest my head on your thighs... and you start to tell me some stupid story to make me laugh... maybe 'bout your perfect classroom that were always better than mine bla bla bla... or you're just correcting my Portuguese mistakes... which makes me wanna hit you... goooosh... how can I miss even this?! =)

Hope you're smiling now. Love and miss you ever.