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.