ok, just to explain a little about how subversive it is to me to smoke a cigarette in my bedroom...

I'm a single child (what explains a lot about the rest!) and all my life I've been surrounded by different types of control. Ok, it's not THAT bad. But things like not having company to play a game, whatever it was, used to bothered me a lot. And when I mean A LOT, add some 15 years of frustation and procrastination of many things that has been affected my life, so far. Maybe some psycologist could have been required in the middle of the process, but for my parents it was such a waste of time.
I never had the chance to speak my mind on a appropriate way. Swallowing words, I'm pretty good at that! I used to take dance classes from my 3 to my 14 years old and for me it never was just about the dance. It was a chance for me to get in front of a crowd and show them what the little girl here does the best. That was me making communication. But in this life, you can't have it all..so I had to quit it.
I've tried to tell mom and dad that it was what i really loved to do, but it wasn't enough. I didn't dance anymore. Excepted when "At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see" (thanks for that, madonna!).
And so it is until nowadays.
But then I decided to choose some title for this blog and start something different.
Something new..something ME.
My parents hate smoking. Me and my dad have some nose issues and smoking was something to never think of doing. I broke the law, sent my good and healthy habits to the trash and started this self-control-helpful-and-great-way-to-not-eat-when-I'm-sad activity last year.
My mom found out a couple of mounths ago. She said that she didn't want me doing that crap inside the house. As a respected child, I followed the rule.
But today...well...if you've read the previal post you'll understand that I was in such a hurry!
Writing and smoking was a really great combination for me. Now I understand better the fellas aka Carrie and Bridget!
Maybe it'll become a hobby.
Maybe I'll write a book.

And maybe when I'll do this with my door unlocked, I 'll reach the Nirvana!

midnight.

It's midnight. I've just smoked a cigarette in my own bedroom (subversive, for a person like me) after a unique episode of Sex&The City. Maybe that's why this post it's gonna be in english, maybe not. Sometimes all you need is a good version of yourself running over your face on a big 42' screen.
Somewhere between waiting for some orange sign to light up my feelings and getting in my pijamas and pretend that i'm good enough for sleep, I choose writing. Maybe this will look like another Bridget Jones or Carrie Bradshaw (thanks God i'm not alone!)story, or maybe this is just me. Me? I'm a 21 year-old girl who is going on a cross-ocean trip in about 20 days, who has the greatest friends in the world and a boyfriend that makes me feel happy like i didn't some years ago. In a normal state of mind I wouldn't be complaining at all, but normality is not my best on these early days.
I'm having a lot of time to think. From things that I should have said in the past to my obssesive way of getting my socks in order, everything was re-thought. The last thing was about loneliness. Loneliness (on my new definition way) it's like a refrigerator. You're in there, on a shelf cruely located between the eggs and the beef, just waiting for someone to open up it's door, even if is just to say "ok, nothing in here, let's order some pizza".
Ok, maybe I'm just overreacting. And if I don't? Am I too crazy to think that I'm a poor girl that was left in a haunted city (at this time of the year, believe me...it's worst than the village of Poltergeist)with no friends and no love? Oh my God, I just feel my hormones going up and down like a non-stop ride rollercoaster.
I didn't believe when people said that writing was such a relaxing way to...hmm..relax. More fascinating than reading. Less stressful than the orange sign.

By the way, my mind is all about the orange sign right now, but pretend that you don't know that.

cala a boca já morreu...

Eu não faço o tipo simpática com todo mundo. Se eu não gostei da primeira impressão, infelizmente não terá segunda nem terceira que me faça mudar de idéia. Acredito que o suco de caju faz milagres e que em futuro próximo ele custará os olhos da cara. Também acredito em extraterrestres, que eles estão por toda a parte e que um dia ainda tomo um susto com um deles. Todo lugar pra mim é perto, se demora ou não, é outra história. As minhas leituras diárias são erika palomino e te dou um dado, e vivo bem assim. Eu não acredito em tintura sem amônia, mas acredito que um corte de cabelo é capaz de fazer milagres. Não faço caretas ao vento apenas por precaução. (Ainda)Acredito em sorrisos e em gentilezas. Não sei andar de bicicleta e sou péssima motorista, o teletransporte com certeza facilitaria a minha vida. Não sei escrever bonito e talvez não seja essa a intenção. Adoro gatos mas não posso tê-los.
Na minha próxima encarnação serei bailarina. Bailarina e dona de muitos gatos.
O casamento é uma instituição falida e estou começando a desacreditar nele também.
Seriados americanos me rendem boas horas em frente a televisão. E eu não sou louca de fazer discurso besta contra a TV. Contra o implícito "TV" aí é outra história. O refrigerante ainda é um mal necessário, assim como marshmallows. Eu te amo é a frase mais difícil de se falar para alguém. Se não for difícil, não ouse em dizer. Meu avô é meu bem maior. Girassóis são as minhas flores preferidas. O cotonete é de uma tecnologia espantável. Madonna é ícone. Bjork, tô cagando.