Still.

Explicava tudo, agora explico nada. Talvez nunca eu consiga descobrir o que é viver uma vida sem carregar amor e saudade no peito.

"There are two reasons why people don’t talk about things; either it doesn’t mean anything to them, or it means everything." 

You still mean everything. 

"People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain." —Jim Morrison

Dark Paradise - Lana Del Rey

Insane

I think about you every day. Even when I don't want to, even when I'm happy. I also dream of you. I go to sleep hoping for a bit of peace to my mind, and there u r. Stuck inside of me deeper.I never imagined I would be able to continue living, to have a good time, and still miss. Something is missing, and I don't say what's missing, cuz I don't want to take the lack of anything. I've lost too much. 
Wherever you are, I hope you have no holes in the throat, in your heart, in hour mind, no pictures in memory. I hope you do not cry because of me, hope you do not feel my absence. I hope that at least one of us was able to stifle the feeling and actually follow through. I never imagined I would be able to continue living like this. But one day ... I hope everything is erased, because this ship is just too big for one person.
I don't wanna love you anymore, like I do. I don't wanna miss you. I can't suport this anymore. I never lived by appearances; I never hid my feelings. And now all I can do is live one day at a time and have the decency to not mess up your life.
I want to give up, I just don't know how, and I just miss you insane. 

Missing.

My heart is beating in a different way

Been gone such a long time and I feel the same

My heart is beating in a different way

Been gone such a long time

Will you miss me (How did I, how did I how did I, oh)

When there's nothing to see? (How did I, how did I how did I, oh)

Tell me, how did this come to be? (How did I, how did I how did I, oh)

And now there's no hope for you and me

Do you still believe (Ahh, ahh, ahh, oh)

In you and me? (Ahh, ahh, ahh, oh)

Are we all we could be? (Ahh, ahh, ahh, oh)

Is it meant to be?

My heart is beating in a different way

Been gone such a long time

Pouco;

Escreve-se pouco quando as palavras não são mais o suficiente. Escreve-se pouco porque escrever é ressuscitar os mortos. Porque escrever é ruminar o que se tenta engolir. Escrever é ter que admitir pro papel que ainda te amo como se você fosse meu. Nunca foi meu.
Escreve-se pouco pelo medo de ser lida e parecer fraca. E perceberem que sou fraca. Escreve pouco aquele que chora muito. Que pensa demais, e que deixa pra depois colocar a multidão de ideias de sua cabeça num lugar mais permanente que a movediça areia do inconsciente.
Escreve pouco quem cansou de repetir o muito que sente. Escreve pouco quem ama muito, mas precisa esquecer.