She jiggled her foot absent-mindedly, glancing down at her watch. It wasn't like she was late to go somewhere but she was getting impatient waiting. Besides a sleeping dog, the platform was empty. She cursed herself for telling her boss she wouldn't mind working late. I mean, the work's fine, it kept her distracted from the things that kept her up at night, she just didn't like the empty subway rides home. She pulled out the book she was reading from her oversized grey bag, her fingers tracing the intricate drawings on the purple cover. Soon, she was absorbed in the story and was startled when she heard a voice.

"Are you liking it?"

She looked up. Sitting on the other side, was a guy wearing a checkered shirt, black jeans, scuffed combat boots. He pointed to the same book with the purple cover with drawings on it sitting on his lap. She glanced at him, uneasily. She was the kind of guy her best friend Alexys would be crazy for, but he wasn't really her type. I mean, she wasn't even sure she had a type. After what that asshole did, she had buried herself in her work and men seemed like something trivial. She squinted her eyes - reminding her that she really did have to find time to go to the eye doctor this week - and looked at him. He wasn't bad at all. Despite the eyebrow piercing, his face has this boyish fun to it that attracted her. He continued looking at her expectantly and she remembered he has asked her something.

"Yeah, it's alright," she stuttered. He grinned at her and stood up. He looked both ways and jumped into the gap where the subways rode. She gasped, worried. He ran quickly, his feet moving swiftly to not trip over the track. He scrambled over the edge and stood before her, laughing nervously.

"Where are you?" he asked, motioning to the book still perched on top of her bag. As he continued talking to her about the book, she slowly let her guard down. She observed him as they talked, the way he motioned with his hands when he was enthusiastic and how his voice changed when he started talking about characters he didn't like. She had known him for the short time span of 10 minutes and she already liked him. The butterflies that had been sleeping in her stomach for the past 6 months woke up now.

Eventually, the subway shuddered to a halt in front of them and they boarded it together, their voices echoing through the empty spaces. They stood up, ignoring all the vacant seats, their bodies lurching together whenever the subway made a curve. As he told her about what kind of movies and TV shows he liked, she was surprised by how different he was from her and how she didn't mind at all. She had spent 7 years of her life completely in love with a guy who was exactly like her and what good did it to for her? She was a wreck when his predictable little self wrecked her heart. She pushed him far out of her mind as the lovely person in front of her told her enthusiastically how he thought John Frusciante was the most bad-ass guitarrist of all times. Knowing little about guitarrists, she nodded and looked up at him, noticing the light blond stuble covering his jaw. Finally, they reached her stop. She shuffled out and he followed her, telling her that was where he got off. They walked up the stairs, their hands swinging next to each other and every so often, brushing against each other awkwardly. When they reached the top of the stairs, she jerked her head towards the left.

"I'm that way," she said, not wanting him to leave.

He smiled at her. "I'll walk you there, okay?"

She nodded and they continued as they shared silly childhood anecdotes. She was surprised with how completely at ease she was with him, how she started telling him things her close friends didn't know. They strolled down the street as cars zoomed past them and then they were in front of her house.

"Well, this is me," she said.

"Wait, before you go up, I want to show you a song!" he said, pulling his iPod out of his pocket. He handed her the headphones and as soon as she slid them in, a soft strumming filled her ears.

She smiled. "I don't know this song."

"You don't? It's really famous! Well, listen, it's really nice."

They stood there, sort of swaying to the music. He put his hands on her waist during the chorus and kissed her . The song they were listening to ended and another song she didn't recognize started playing, although the music wasn't what she was paying attention to. She had expected groping hands, tugging of clothes but he didn't do any of that. He just pulled her close and kissed her like that was the only thing he wanted in the world, to be kissing her in front of the door step while his favorite songs played. He stopped and smiled, their noses touching.

"Hey, I like you," he said quietly. She smiled and kissed him. Yeah, she liked him too.

-

Have I mentioned how much I love subways before?

And the person who just logged onto msn or texts you is never the person you want it to be.

Being alone ≠ Feeling lonely.

I want to live inside a Death Cab for Cutie song.

Eu: Mari, tira uma foto da vitrine dessa loja? Só que eu vou aparecer senão eles podem brigar mas não tira comigo na foto senão fica meio retardada, tá?

Mari: Tá bom. *click* Você parece o cara do South Park nessa foto.

Eu: ...

Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.

— Lemony Snickett

Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses
It's sleeping with the roaches and taking best guesses
So shed off the sheets and before all the stains
And a few more of your least favorite things.
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy

No matter how much my taste in music evolves, 'Build God, Then We'll Talk' is still one of my favorites.

Are all people so disposable or is it just me?

Back!

Hello, lovelies. Expect a surplus of posts from now on since I'm still on vacation and shtuff.

Arrived home to find my new books that my dad had bought for me and now putting my new CDs I bought in Buenos onto my iPod. :]

I'm not home though, this city isn't home.

Would also like to add on a sort of related note that I have never felt worse about my body than this week I spent in Buenos Aires. hokay.

Seth Cohen's awkwardness appreciation time.

Stop being such a pussy, distance is no excuse.

Homesick, 'cause I no longer know where home is.

I just found my Lizzie McGuire Movie soundtrack and found out that I still know the lyrics to "What Dreams are Made Of" and "Why Not".

Thank God my taste in music has evolved.

I also did find Avril Lavigne's first CD and it's now on my iPod. Hater's gonna hate.

Let's hope this is just caused by sleep deprivation and not the consequences of crap emotional health.

the glove compartment isn't accurately named
and everybody knows it.
so i'm proposing a swift orderly change
cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm
and all i find are souvenirs from better times
before the gleam of your taillights fading east
to find yourself a better life.

"Want some bacon?"

"No man, I don't eat pork."

"Are you Jewish?"

"Nah, I ain't Jewish, I just don't dig on swine, that's all."

"Why not?"

"Pigs are filthy animals. I don't eat filthy animals."

"Bacon tastes gooood. Pork chops taste gooood."

"Hey, sewer rat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That's a filthy animal. I ain't eat nothin' that ain't got sense enough to disregard its own feces."

"How about a dog? Dogs eats its own feces."

"I don't eat dog either."

"Yeah, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy animal?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to call a dog filthy but they're definitely dirty. But, a dog's got personality. Personality goes a long way."

"Ah, so by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?"

"Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charming motherfuckin' pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Because I spent the entire day with Samuel L. Jackson's voice saying: "Personality goes a long way" in my head.

Books for this vacation:

Speak – Laurie Halse Anderson

The Virgin Suicides – Jeffrey Eugenides

Fight Club – Chuck Palahniuk

Norwegian Wood – Haruki Murakami

Paper Towns – John Green

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Jonathan Safran Foer

Post Office – Charles Bukowski

The Carrie Diaries – Candace Bushnell

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

Atonement - Ian McEwan

You've become one of those people who I don't talk to on MSN for lack of something to talk about, which is funny because I used to lose sleep talking to you.

It's okay though, seeing as you've become the kind of person who I don't want to be close friends with.

"We'd be good together, don't you think?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll break your heart."

"Maybe I'll break yours."

"Nobody breaks my heart."

As much as I love staying up late, I can't help feeling lonely.

BRASIL

Sou brasileira, com muito orgulho, com muito amor. ♥