I'm lying to myself. I give myself false hope and false expectations that never match up to reality. I twist circumstances around in my mind to make them seem better than they actually are. I think too much about the smallest, most insignificant gestures and blow them up like balloons and float around in this euphoric bubble of what could be and what I want to happen, and am always so let down by what I'm left with, and almost, could-be, maybe situation. I think too much into a smile and catching someone's eye from across the room. I think too much into an accidental hand brushing and prolonged eye contact. I tell myself that it can still happen, and I cling to the tinest little glimmers of hope, even though I know that there's a little itch I can't scratch that tells me that I'm wrong, and that I can't make something out of nothing. I'm living in this fantasy world, where happy endings really do exist, and the boy and the girl always do end up together. I'm tricking myself into thinking that we're perfect for each other, when in reality, we may as well be strangers.

Ainda bem que sempre existe outro dia...

outras pessoas... e outros sonhos... e outros risos... outras coisas.

I'm fine.

I'm just having an allergic reaction to the universe.

I hate when I start liking someone because then I start expecting things out of them.

Some people believe in God,
I believe in music.
Some people pray,
I turn up the radio.

eu nao conseguia evitar os brotos de esperanças que semeavam em minha mente,





só pra que depois eles fossem dolorosamente esmagados.

Don't think. 
Don't fucking think.
Because when you think, you realize how fucked up everything really is.

E eu não entendo o porquê, juro que eu não entendo...

If you're looking for me I suggest you look in the last place that you will ever find me, cause I'm going out with all my friends tonight, for once.

i wish we lived closer.

all of you.

I'm learning the hard way that they all say things you wanna hear.
My heavy heart sinks deep down under. You and your twisted words. Your help just hurts. You are not what I thought you were.

I was only 19, you were 29. It’s just 10 years, but its such a long time.
I try real hard but I can’t forget. Now in a heartbeat, I would do it all again.
Now I see that you and me were never meant to be.
Now I’m lost somewhere, lost between Elvis and suicide.
Ever since the day we died, well, I’ve got nothing left to lose.

Dear blank, please blank.

Dear Twilight fans,

Please realize that because vampires are dead and have no blood pumping through them, they can never get an erection. Enjoy fantasizing about that.

Sincerely, Logic.

Dear Mom,

I'm 16 now, can I PLEASE get a bra?

Sincerely, your son, Justin B.

Dear Yahoo,

I've never heard anyone say, "I don't know, let's Yahoo! it..." just saying...

Sincerely, Google.

Dear Rose,

There was definitely room on that raft for the both of us.

Sincerely, Jack.

Dear Joker,

Want to know how I got this scar?

Sincerely, Harry.

 

Dear Harry,

I want your magic wand in my chamber of secrets.

Sincerely, Cho Chang.

Dear Person Who Linked me this Site,

Please never send me a link again. I have responsibilities and absolutely no willpower.

Sincerely, I just broke the addiction to MLIA, damnit.

link. 

The way that I feel and what’s supposed to be real strongly disagree.

Of course life is a bitch.

If it was a slut, it would be easy.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time.

Misanthropy

a generalized dislike, distrust, disgust, contempt, or hatred of human species, human nature, or society.

That was such an epic #fail.

I'm thinking that, maybe, you might think I'm crazy. Is that why you won't call me? Don't you think I'm pretty? Do you not love me? Is that why you won't call me?

Cause you're my object of affection, my drug of choice, my sick obsession. I want to keep you as my pet to play with and hide under my bed... forever.

"Fico tão cansada às vezes,

e digo para mim mesma que está errado, que não é assim, que não é este o tempo, que não é este o lugar, que não é esta a vida. (...) então eu não sentia nada, podia fazer as coisas mais audaciosas sem sentir nada, bastava estar atenta como estes gerânios, você acha que um gerânio sente alguma coisa? quero dizer, um gerânio está sempre tão ocupado em ser um gerânio e deve ter tanta certeza de ser um gerânio que não lhe sobra tempo para nenhuma outra dúvida..."

WE DON'T TALK ANYMORE. AND 

YOU KNOW WHAT THE SADDEST 

PART IS? WE USED TO TALK 

EVERYDAY.

Something tells me you're gonna be a memory that follows me around for the rest of my life.

How do you forget somone who was never there to remember?

"Alguma coisa me diz que você vai ser uma memória que estará comigo pelo resto da minha vida.

Como esquecer de alguem que nunca esteve lá para ser lembrado?"

Oh

happy sex day, btw.

Shit My Dad Says

"See, you think I give a shit. Wrong. In fact, while you talk, I'm thinking; How can I give less of shit? That's why I look interested."

"No, I'm not a pessimist. At some point the world shits on everybody. Pretending it ain't shit makes you an idiot, not an optimist."

"Remember this: you're just a lucky fucking guy. If people start telling you your dick looks bigger, remember that it's not."

"Nobody is that important. They eat, shit, and screw, just like you. Maybe not shit like you, you got those stomach problems."

"You worry too much. Eat some bacon... What? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon."

"Remember how you used to make fun of me for being bald?...No, I'm not gonna make a joke. I'll let your mirror do that."

"Son, people will always try and fuck you. Don't waste your life planning for a fucking, just be alert when your pants are down."

http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays

People who make us happy

are never the people you expect.

 

oh, i wish.