Ontem eu quase criei um blog nome. Digo 'quase' porque tinha até pensado em um nome bonitinho e meu 'about me' e como seria meu primeiro post mas empaquei na hora de fazer o layout do site porque o Wordpress é muito complicado pra mim. Enfim. Quis criar um novo blog porque ultimamente tenho lido muitos blogs bons - com certeza melhores que esse aqui - mas também porque minha cabeça tem se tornado um lugar muito tumultuado e confuso. Aqui está a minha tentativa de explicar o que se passa na minha cabeça. 

Até meus quinze anos, estudei em escolas internacionais e achava que era a coisa mais natural do mundo fazer amizade com as pessoas, se apaixonar por meninos na sua sala e aí essas pessoas se mudarem para outros países. Afinal, quantas melhores amigas já tinham passado pela minha vida? Quando entrei numa escola brasileira, passei a invejar as meninas que conhecia que tinham tido o mesmo grupo de amigas desde os três anos - afinal, nem conseguia imaginar isso acontecendo comigo! 

E agora de uns tempos pra cá, comecei a me incomodar com a quantidade de pessoas que fisicamente saiem da minha vida. Afinal, por mais que eu admire a ambição deles (e em alguns casos, a coragem de ir embora), não consigo parar de pensar: o que há de tão errado em mim? I mean, porque que essas pessoas todas que eu amo tem ido embora? Já ouvi uma quantidade imensa de quotes melosos (desses que tias gostam de compartilhar no Facebook) sobre como algumas pessoas entram na sua vida pra te ensinar uma lição, ou algo do gênero, mas eu só acabo me sentindo sozinha e abandonada. Cadê o aprendizado nisso? 

I woke up this morning feeling like the loneliest girl in all the world. 

'RED' IS SO GOOD I FELT LIKE CRYING WHEN I HEARD IT FOR THE FIRST TIME AND NOW I JUST WANT TO BE BFFS WITH TAYLOR SWIFT AND HAVE A SLEEPOVER WITH HER AND TALK ABOUT BOYS. 

eros is bullshit: a poem

the theory that people

are always searching for

their other half is 

              bullshit. 

don’t let anyone, not

even a god, tell you 

you are anything less 

than whole.

Found this on Tumblr (without any type of source or indication to who wrote this) and wanted to share it. 

Ezra

The first boy I ever kissed had tattoos on his hands. When he leaned in to touch his lips to mine, his hand rested on my back and I remember thinking about the ink seeping through my clothes and resting on my own bare skin. His mouth tasted like beer and, in the midst of my infatuation, I found it charming. For the rest of the night, we spent it using our mouths, either to speak or kiss. 

He showed me how to blow cigarette smoke in a perfect circle and I taught him how to say 'I love you' in foreign languages and as I watched the vocalization of true love roll off his tongue like candy, like they meant nothing, I felt a surge of joy that this was the boy I was sitting with on a pale September night. After the playlist started to repeat itself - as much as I may like 'Just Like Heaven', I don't need to listen to it three times in one night - I told him I was going to leave and after receiving a flurry of kisses and slurred words of 'I loved meeting you' and 'Let's do this again sometime', I walked out the door. 

Three short weeks later, I heard the news, or better yet, overheard it, since I was walking to class when I heard a group of girls talking about it. He was dead. I stopped moving, perplexed. I skipped my Religion class that afternoon and sat on the swings of an empty playground, drowning in my thoughts, unsure of what to do. Was I meant to go to the funeral? Should I wear black? Would his close friends notice me and wonder who I was?

I sat by myself until the sun hid behind the hills. Eventually, I did go to the funeral and I stood back, feeling out of place and lost. After the mourners started to peel away to their cars, speaking in hushed tones,  I came closer. Looking down at the numerous wreath of flowers covering the grave, I thought about his face, his laughter, his eyes, and how all of the things that made him were gone. 

I thought about the tattoos on his hands and wished that that night, they had actually jumped onto my skin so that I'd always have a secret part of him with me. I was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder, presumably belonging to his father (they had the same eyes.) 

"Did you know him very well?" he asked, his voice kind and heavy with sorrow. 

I looked up, blinking a few tears away. "I wish I had." I really wish I had. 

----

Just something I wrote recently. 

Hey, you and me are going to slow-dance to this song someday. You'll put your hands on my hips as we sway in a room that's ours (really, really just ours) and I'll say something dumb about the way you dance and you'll kiss me softly on that ticklish place on neck. I'll hold you a little bit tighter and you won't mind and I'll tell you that when I was eighteen years old, I imagined dancing with you to this song and it'll be a sad and nostalgic and hopeful moment. And if it's not, well, then that's okay, too. I love you to the moon and back, bonitinho. 

Right now, I feel very happy and excited about being alive and the plans I have so I need to record it because I know these moments don't come by super often. 

"Stop making that face at me." You don't know what face I'm talking about. I called you today while I was walking home and I was upset and on the verge of tears and I had to hear your voice to distract me from the frustration building up inside of my chest and squeezing my lungs and you answered and I could clearly see you sitting on the bed surrounded by clothes you still had to pack and you didn't ask why my voice was shakey (I wouldnt've said anything, anyways). I got home and pretended to be okay and managed until you put your arms around me and I broke down and you stroked my hair while we stood in the bathroom doorway and told me that it was okay to cry and you didn't ask me what was wrong and you didn't complain when my mascara got on your white shirt and then you talked to me about silly things until I calmed down. I'm listening to quiet songs that remind me of you even though I don't know if you know these songs and tears are rolling down my cheeks and I keep glancing at the clock but who cares I'm not going to sleep anytime soon anyways and this afternoon I woke up from my nap and forget for a second that you had left and looked around my room, expecting to find you lying on your back on my bed and reading your Neil Gaiman book. I'm going to lie down in bed tonight and I won't wake up in the middle of the night with you coming in and kissing my limbs while I'm half asleep and holding my arms and asking me if I'm okay because my heart is beating fast and yes yes I'm okay I am alive and I am completely in love with you. I looked down at your hands interlocked with both of mine (because there are occasions when holding just one of your hands isn't enough) while we were waiting in the sun and I kept looking because I wanted so badly to remember everything, every single moment and how your lips were cold from drinking a milkshake and you hadn't changed shirts and the outsides of our thighs touching and the voice in the back of my head reminded me how lucky I am to have spent these days with you and how we've been doing this for almost three years and saying good-bye to you still hasn't gotten easier. I don't think it ever will get easy, honestly.

ugh, i don't even know.

I'm sitting in the computer lab at college and my body feels like this awful, uncomfortable suit that doesn't belong to me and the air is stale and the vents are making this annoying whirring sound and I am sleep deprived and I mentally threw up on everybody who I've interacted with so far, MONDAYS ARE TERRIBLE. 

How It Ends

It has been years,
months
And days
Since the first time I saw you naked
Since the night you ripped off your shirt,
Stuck your boobs in my face and said
Touch them
I touched them like a diabetic third grader opening a Snickers bar
You said
Hard
I thought, yes I am
But you are so soft, I said,
Your lips, they’re like whale blubber
That wasn’t my best line
But it worked
Tonight in the grocery store, I found one of your hairs in my underwear
I pulled it out in the frozen food section and screamed
THAT is so gorgeous, it could kill a man!
Good thing I’m a leprechaun
Lucky…
Lucky…
Baby, I have no idea how this will end
Maybe the equator will fall like a hula hoop from the earth’s hips
And our mouths will freeze mid-kiss on our 80th anniversary
Or maybe tomorrow, my absolute insanity
Combined with the absolute obstacle course of your communication skills
Will leave us
Like a love letter
In a landfill
But whatever
Whenever
However this ends,
Heather,
I want you to know, that right now,
I love you forever
I love you for the hardest mile we walked together
For the night I collected every sharp knife in the house
And threw them one by one on the roof
Then told the sun,
Listen show off,
From now on, you are only to give me blades of grass;
Things that are growing and soft
‘Cause there’s this girl who says she wants to float on her back
Through my bloodstream
And when she does,
I want my rivers to reach the sea
D’you hear me, lover?
Do you know, the night you told me you had a crush on my ears,
I swore to never to become Van Gogh
And look, baby,
They are both still there
Just like my firefly heart is still right there in your glass jar
I never trusted anybody more to poke enough holes in the lid
So on the nights you sleep like a ballerina,
I try to snore like a piccolo
And I press my lips to your holy temples
And I say,
I crash in to things in the dark
Even when the lights are on
And I am wrong more often than I am writing
And even then, I am often wrong
But when my friends are in the bathroom at the bar
Rolling dollar bills in to telescopes,
Claiming they can see God,
I will come to you
Holding my grandmother’s Bible,
I will press it to your chest
And I will bless it with your breath
And when you ask if I wanna roleplay Altar boys fucking in the kitchen during Sunday Mass
I will say,
Hell yes
But only if you leave a hickey on my ass
In the shape of Jesus’ palm
So I can be sure I got nailed
Down
Heather,
You will never lose me to the wind
You are the lightning that made me fill my chest with candles
You are the thunder clapping for the poem that nobody else wants to hear
You are an icicle’s tear watering a tulip on the first day of spring
You melt me alive
You kiss me as deep as my roots will reach
And I want nothing more than to be an eyelash fallen on your cheek
Then being collected by your fingers
And held like a wish
I promise
That whatever I do
I will always try my best
To come true

- Andrea Gibson

i miss you very, very much.

This song has been playing in my head for the past week and a half

I just want to feel beautiful and desirable and comfortable and better in every single way.

This video is good and interesting and worth saving to watch again.