2m4instream asked: é realmente trágico, farto-me de fazer desporto e continuo assim x)

Muitíssimo gordo, que horror. Só espero é que se fores a Sesimbra no verão nao me cruzar contigo ewww hahah

Your words don’t touch me, as they used to. The simplicity, as the beauty you used to glue on them, is no longer tattooed on my skin. I can’t feel them anymore. Actually, I can’t feel enough about you anymore. The smell of fresh paint, after you adorn them on my arms, like you were fixing them permanently in this waterproof body, doesn’t live in you anymore, much less in me. The sound of your silence echoes in the walls of my body. And that piece of meat that you used to dare to grap and drop according to your will, as you forgot the words you used to carry in your pockets dropping them on the wind when you fear I have hear them, I no longer feel their absence. The smell of that exhaustive odor no longer sticks to my hair, it doesn’t glue to my body. Your eyes on mine don’t leave me breathless anymore. I know them, that’s why everytime I see through them I no longer see you. No my love, I see a bunch of promises, some of them sealed at the dawn, a couple of dreams we forgot to dream, and a chaos of uncertanty. And the essence of the wild strawberries and coffee that you insisted to leave on my lips, I can’t feel it.  And from where did these fiery hair appear that are designed to cover the last threads of gold fawn marble that cover you face when you refuse to feed with passion? Where are them? Where are you?

2m4instream asked: Vai masé comemorar o dia de anos, btw, parabéns :b

Haha obrigada oh sou-muito-feio-e-gordo

Anonymous asked: facebook?

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1375167635&ref=tn_tnmn

joaoperdiz asked: haha you're welcome :$

:$

I can’t stop thinking that I will probably never have the chance to kiss you, again.

It was very hot in that afternoon despite the sun being almost set. It was a typical summer day in late July. The birds flew from tree to tree and chattered passionate songs, the sun shone brightly in the distance, very hot indeed. The wind blew the trees as if to invite them to a private dance. But that street was blowing over. It was a street like any other, with buildings on both sides, whitewashed salmon, with balconies to the top as red as the blush of your lips, and a few electricity poles. It was so unique, and so different from any of the other. But it was there they were, and despite the endless demand have appealed, they stayed there for a few but long minutes. The wind ruffled those, that now as her, were in the dark of buildings. And while in a warm embrace he was involving her, he spoke words of longing and love. She was entertained and absorbeding to decorate the many balconies that were on that street, every minute fainter. Silly, but when the heart is filled with a thousand words of love, a maddening mind begins to wander. Unanswered and only with her face buried in his shoulder and her breathing down on his neck, he pushed her away. The wind now glued them their clothes to the bodies, while his hair disheveled and chocolate kept dancing in the wind. The heart threatened to jump off the chest while she was lost in the green sea of his eyes. And as he took her face between his hands, and his disheveled hair was dancing in the wind, the urgency of his lips where manifested on hers as she involved his waist with her arms. His hands shook from her face to her hair that was flying as well, while his gentle and sweet lips still glued to hers. And so they remained there a little innocent, lost in time, when the only concern was that the sun had already set. And so it was in a hot summer, that girl fell in love for the boy with eyes the color of the sea, right there on that street.

It is easy to live apathetically. Don’t feel nothing, expect nothing, demand nothing, want nothing. Living and just live with just the desire to be something other than this and be just that. It is easy to live like this, since it is almost as if I was sedated all the time, as if all the muscles freeze and my brain activity stayed reduced to a system of zeros and ones. No complications or errors. It’s easy to live without not actually live, and be constantly absorbeding ramblings of the mind that ultimately maddening when the heart is just a lost muscle in a strange body. Even the face undergoes changes. The thousand and one muscles freeze and a line is drawn on the lips,that now are cold and hard, to combine with this new face hard. The brain ceases to know how to draw smiles even if they are faint, the memories are erased - or at least come to an end - and the eyes, which where served as a lens for the world, are mirrored, and everything that you still can’t see on those eyes are nothing but pictures of a film which I am don’t belong to. It is easy to live that without having needs, wants, or feelings. Without complications or difficulties, or anything that prevents us from becoming dependent of we own being. Without happiness, love or fear. Just us and the world. Even if it means living a dream and daydream without the need for stop order. Dreaming stopps being a mere necessity and becomes our biggest fear. Brings us memories that we do not want to dig and fight at all costs not to remind us, without our permission for travel to the past. However, the hope to get back to what we were, still manifests itself from time to time, remembers when the heart still beats and dwells in a body or when the mind does not deceive us. And when the voices and sounds of people around us are reduced to whispers at he small end of the tunnel, when the world becomes an old TV in black and white, and the memories of other times flew to reach the threshold of this state vegetative, and yet seems to us indifferent. Because it has always been seen as well in our eyes, gray, ugly, dull - just like us.