Friendship Last Forever!

Por vezes penso em amigos perdidos. Sinto-os como espinhos que se me atravessam na garganta, como lágrimas que gelaram antes de escorrer.
E então lembro-me do que um amigo é e do que não é um amigo. Um amigo é amigo sempre, não é só quando precisa de nós ou quando nós precisamos dele. É aquela pessoa a quem se liga só para dizer olá, só para lhe ouvir a voz; com quem se vai almoçar para por a conversa em dia, para aproveitar a companhia; é aquele que te compreende com um só olhar, que lê nas entrelinhas de um sorriso triste, que ouve entre os soluços o silêncio que nos vai na alma.
E aí relembro que não vale a pena sofrer, porque não existe tal coisa como amigos perdidos. Amigo que é amigo não se perde, nunca, nem se esquece.
Então, os espinhos como que desaparecem, sem deixar rasto, e o gelo estilhaça sem deixar qualquer marca.

Para mim, um amigo é aquele que te compreende com um olhar, que te anima sem palavras e que, com um simples gesto, faz tudo valer a pena.

Into Fiction

I do complain often how I emerge myself in books and series and animes. And people do call my attention to that.
I do distract myself a lot, my thoughts wandering into remembrances of movies I watched and books I read; I do spend most of my day daydreaming; I do have lots of fantasies living in my head.

And I know why. I know I do not have a dysfunctional family, there are worst. But I did have a fatherless childhood. I hardly remember any moment with my dad before the divorce. After all, I was only 4 then. My sister, though, she was already 9 and she felt it much harder. I can understand that. What I can't understand is how 15 damn years later she's still an unbearable pain in the ass, and getting worst. The tension in my house between her and my mom is tangible, you can almost split it with a knife. Dinners are either silent or end in a fight. I'm often edgy at home, and my mom even worst. And no matter how much it hurts me, I am aware that the one this is more painful to is my mom and she's been through so much, she doesn't deserve a daughter like my sister. So I try to compensate for her (and I fail so many times!) and I try to support her and to be as good a daughter I can be. But I get tired too and moody. Sometimes I snap too. Even still, when I do have a great day or even a not-so-bad day, I try to spread and share that happiness. And again I fail, mostly because my sister is completely immune to other people's feelings. I am, in the end, the joy of the household. Or I try to be, at least for my mother, because she deserves it more that anyone.

And that is why I bury myself in fiction. I have to get out, to blow off steam, to hang on to something and since a very young age, books and tv series have been my escape. From the Disney comic books to the Sandman Library, from Tom & Jerry to CSI, from Harry Potter to Neil Gaiman, the purpose is the same. To escape to somewhere else.
And now I need it more than ever. College is hard and not everything goes as easy as Genetics; I'm having a best friend crisis; my father's farther than ever; and home feels less like it everyday. (Not everything's wrong, though, I still have very good friends who really are there for me and that can be reasonable when I can't and I'm really making new friends at school and feeling really motivated =) )

But I'm used not to have someone by me. I'm used to face things alone or to escape to fiction. And it works. And I'm not complaining anymore about it, because there are times that not even your friends can help you with the twists and turns of life. (wow! great finishing sentence,huh? XD) And I'm not saying that fiction can, but it turns it bearable.


ps: I openned my heart and soul here, I rarely talk about this stuff so if you're just going to flame or blame me for this (yes, this time I might just be talking to you) just don't. I won't publish anyway. Thank you.

These Days

There are days that can be cloudy, rainy and stormy; days when a freaking blizzard could fall and I'd still feel warm and fuzzy inside. Days when I'm so blissful and energetic, I feel so witty and smart and confident; when I am really aware of how strong and lucky I am.
And there are those days when not even the clear blue sky, the golden bright sun and the warm colours of the fall can take the cold away from my heart; when no matter how many layers of clothing I'm wearing I still feel the chills and shivers at the end of my spine. Days when I feel so worthless and purposeless, when I feel like a misfit that can't really find a place to belong.

There are days when the simple thought of my friends and family makes me smile; it reminds me of how blessed I am they came into my life, how I could never have chosen better.
Then there are those days when it seems that no one really understands how I feel; when they seem so swamped in they're own problems that don't care about mine (and vice versa); days when no one really says what I need to hear. It's when I miss the most those that, somehow, I ended up leaving behind.

There are days when I see the world through the eyes of a happy child, so colourful and alive, huge and unexplored.
Yet, there are those days when I'm chocked by the indifference that surrounds me; when the world seems so small, not in size, but in heart.

There are days when I feel so gifted and capable of such amazing things. When I'm awed by my own ability to express myself with drawings, beside words. When how much I improved in the last years makes me proud.
Still, there are those days when my hands are so shaky I can't draw the angst or the anger I feel. Days when the words just won't come out.

Those days when the weight of all my past "traumas" and issues, of all my kinks and quirks fall on my shoulders. Days when all ancient wounds open and bleed; when all my fears come to haunt me at night. Days when everything seems to fall apart and crumble, when I can't find my strength or something to hold on to.

numb

I don't know what happened.
I don't know what triggered it.
I don't know why I feel so angry, so desperate.
I don't know why I can't fight it.

All I know is I seem to alienate every person in the world who cares. And I can't even stop myself from doing it.
I don't think I ever hated myself as much as I hate myself right now. What about that for a New Year's resolution? Stop hating myself. I'm not sure I'll keep up to that.
Lately I just feel I disappoint everyone, including myself.

I feel so tired.
I can't sleep.
It just hurts. And even that is stopping. I'm going numb.

I guess I'm just fulfilling my own prophecy. I'm the one who said I'd end bitter and alone. I'm certainly working for that.
Now, not only I believe that I won't find someone who'll love me, I'll manage, somehow, to push away everyone that cares. I already doing it.
Most strange people leave me uncomfortable or I leave them uncomfortable, so I can't even make new good friends that can help me get through this.

And that's is why I hate myself. Because I suck at getting along, at keeping things light, at doing things right. That's where I fail, with people. And you can't live without them, 'cause no man is an island, right?