january, 27th

It was an alright day, and somehow I didn't realized what was about to happen that night. I was so anxious and I think that made me blind, made me think in false pretences, and I thought it was just another day.
I had friends waiting for me in a bar, and I can't avoid thinking why I didn't meet with them instead of going there. Would it be different? Or would I just delaying something obvious?
As soon as we got in the bus, a torrencial rain started to fall during all the way. We were wet when we arrived, and I remember buying a white shirt and something to eat.

I stood there, so perplexed, I didn't want to leave. Just when it finished, I knew something happened, and I was so afraid cause I knew what happened. In that moment I knew things will no longer be the same. As I left the room, waiting for my sister to comeback from bathroom, I felt like I was about to faint, the weight on my back were too heavy to bear. In that moment I wished I've never existed. All I could think was crashing my head into something and making it stop. I wanted that to end, I still want, but I can't make it go away.

I cannot think anymore. When I think the devil comes to me, and I'm afraid it will finish me.

Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion.

I hate debating with people over things. I sure have an opinion on lots of things but I prefer keeping them for myself when it comes to measuring what it's good and what is not. I believe that kind of opinions are only good when deciding what's best for one itself.

I hate arguing with people over films, or music, or anything else. I don't even have "what it takes" to tell what's good about something, and what it's not. I can tell what is right for myself, not for the other. I know I am emotionally involved and connected to a film, a music, or something, in different levels, and that's all I have.

Everything I love, I love in silence. I write in silence, I watch in silence, I am in silence. Everything I am, I am alone. I'm constantly in silence cause I don't want people to see me, not in this way.

Sempre penso no que acontece nos lugares em que não estou. Nas vidas que acontecem enquanto a minha vida não acontece.

No que estaria ela pensando agora, e por que isso me importaria? Me importaria saber se ela para quando o sinal esta amarelo ou avança antes que ele fique vermelho? Se ela pinta as unhas ou se não usa brincos? De que me importaria saber sobre coisas que não são minhas?

Eu sempre durmo inquieta, a noite é sempre o pior momento do dia. Não tem como fugir de si mesmo, e das coisas que vem a sua cabeça quando se está prestes a dormir. Mas durmo bem, gostaria apenas de dormir por mais horas.

It seems like I want my history to matter to someone. I'm always thinking in a opossite way of what I think I am. I'm always wanting different things from the ones once I thought I wanted.

It seems like I want them to know that I once had a tiny swimming pool, and I had plenty of fun with it. That once my grandma forgot to pick me up at school, and I cried because I wondered why she wasn't there. I lived in front of my school, and I actually could see the gates of my house from inside my school yard. I remember looking through the gate, waiting for her to show up, and it seemed like I was waiting for years. I don't remember her picking me up.

I want people to know those things, but I really don't, I don't know. I'm constantly looking for reasons and a sense in things, but I know they don't make sense. I know but I want them to. I don't make sense, so I think I want things around me to make some.

I'm mourning for my life

I see myself mourning for other peoples lives constantly. I mean, I don't think I'm really that kind of person who cares about everyone, and I'm actually pretty selfish.

But I can't avoid mourning for the things some people won't have, won't experience. I mourn for the view on the window they won't have, that taste they will never taste. The things they won't know about, and everything that life is supposed to be, a good life, not a miserable, not a bearable one, I mean, I really good one. But they just don't know. They just don't know what they have been missing, and maybe they will never do.

It's a good thing, you know? not having knowledge about things and how they are supposed to be. The more I think I know about things, the less I know at all. I think it's all the same damn thing, not knowing about a thing or thinking you know it all. You are at the same point cause you still have no idea regarding the order of things.

I'm mourning their lives for them, and I'm mourning for my life.

Acredito que a única coisa que me separa da loucura e o que me impede de deixar pra trás tudo aquilo que eu não quero mais, são meus sonhos.

Mas penso ainda no que farei depois, conquistando coisas ou não, por que deveria eu prolongar meu tempo aqui? Estaria disposta a perder?

O que faria hoje se não tivesse mais sonhos?