As vozes em redor estão mudas
Bocas cheias de movimento vazio
Penso de ti em abraços passados,
Vontades secretas qu'inundam a pele.

Permeias meu tempo; meu escuro, meu claro
Guardas tu segredo em gestos falados
Espero sem desespero revelações circunscritas
A sons graves, jogos meigos d'àngústia finita.

- Holdin' on, Citizen Cope

«What do I do when I want to...
Be as close as I can get to you?
I feel like a cruel girl
Saying both yes and no
I want you to want me
I need to trust you though...

What do I do when I fall through...
Fears so long and dark that I lose you?
I feel like a lost girl
Letting my torn heart show
If you're so far away, boy
How will you ever know...?

What do I do?

I feel like a small girl
Falling beneath your form
If I set you on fire...
Will you keep me warm?

What do I do when I want to...?
What do I do when I want you?
What do I do, what do I do..»

- What do I do, Sam Phillips

i live to let down.

Not today. Today i am disenchanted with the world's mysteries. Today i want the simple life of the hermit, hiding in his cave, detached from human contact. We are never content with satisfaction. Never satisfied with contentment. All i can feel today is discomfort; heat, hunger, exhaustion. I care not in the slightest for imperatives and truths. Lead me to the rock that is higher than i, for i am so low there are blisters on my feet. It is never enough to try harder, feel deeper, profess louder. All i have lost and al i have gained become nothing more than rough drafts of what is still to come. I care not for this waiting, silent agony of hoping predictions of tragedy are less likely - though understandable. Don't give to receive. Concerns for my worth grow heavy yet weary. I am weary. It is just so. Pen to paper brings nothing but sadness, for which i haven't the energy. Find me that off-button, put me to sleep, it makes no difference.
It makes no difference.

(14.10.09)

Unspoken is not unknown. Unspoken is not untold.

Let it be me.

« je lui dis que je me détestais. Je lui dis en souriant, car je le pensais, mais sans douleur, avec une sorte de résignation agréable. Il ne me prit pas au sérieux.
- Peu importe. Je t'aime assez pour t'obliger à être de mon avis. Je t'aime, je t'aime tant. »

- Bonjour tristesse, Françoise Sagan

And if it weren't enough that i feel guilty for every mouthful, of even air or thought, i have the added remorse for making my mother worry about the continued absence of my smile. I wrap myself in metaphors and cryptic analogies because its so simple its too close for comfort. I wish i could just spell it out. Scream. SCREAM!
What i don't want to talk about is what makes the best prose and what i do is the best substitute for sleeping pills. Might as well keep my mouth shut. Everything hits at once. I'm hurting. Where's the emergency stop button?

- Turpentine, Brandi Carlisle

gone baby gone

I should never think
What's in your heart
What's in our home
But it's all i want

You'll learn to hate me
But still call me baby
Oh, love
So call me by my name

And save your soul
Save your soul
Before you're too far gone
Before nothing can be done

I've tried deciding when
She'll lie in the end
I ain't got no fight in me
In this whole damn world
Tell you to hold off
You choose to hold on
It's the one thing that I've known

Once I put my coat on
I'm coming out in this all wrong
She's standing outside holding me
Saying, 'Oh, please
I'm in love
I'm in love'

Girl save your soul
Oh save your soul
Before you're too far gone
Before nothing can be done

'Cause without me
You got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
Without me you got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
So hold on
Without me you got it all
So hold on

- Never think, Robert Pattinson

lighter out of fuel.

What is this i'm doing? If i could only put a word to it. Stupid. Reckless. Pointless. Nothing seems to fit exactly. The consequences, of course, are miserable. And misery itself. Although the latter was already (t)here to begin with. I haven't the strentgh to convince myself i can alter the balance. I feel no control. Distinctly aware, however, that something must be done. Soon. The pain i bring on myself is worse than the one brought upon me. It may just be my weary fight against the numbness. To feel bad is better than nothing at all. I can't truly believe that. Maybe the familiarity of guilt is easier to deal with than that other breaking. Nothing about this is easy.
I don't know what i'm saying. I don't know what i'm doing. All i know, with aching certainty, is that it is doing me no good. It is destroying me. Physically yes. But it is my heart and mind that stretch thin. I can't keep picking up my own pieces. I can't keep making the same mess. Especially to escape a new one. I am not strong. I write in circles. I think in circles. I need this to get easier. I need to be more than this.

I need to not sound so profoundly unoriginal.

- Never think, Robert Pattinson

self-destruction in 5..4..3..2..

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

- Falling slowly, Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova (Once OST)