Food to the ego.

It's surprising how people can turn out to be immature leeches.
You demonstrate a bit of interest and they respond positively. Then you feed them with that interest and soon they become this mountain of ego ready to blow.
It's like they need someone to stroke their egos and then they become "superior."

Then you turn your back and leave them talking to the wall, and they come back like you're the greatest person to ever walk on earth.

...With The Beatles

Whatever you are feeling right now, there is a Beatles song to describe it.

Black Flag

Some people are so bitter that it seems they need to affect you to try to feel better.
Fuck them. No more white flag for me.

by myself but not alone

Now I have a larger understanding of all of this.
No, it does not involve starsigns or god.
I've been converted to the lovelessness.

Oh my god what have I done

So you know. I was fucking terrible. Then I went to the movies and saw Spiderman 2. It's a pretty good one indeed, but all I could think about is how hard it is for him.

Then I was lucky. Because I was invited to party in somone's house (someone I didn't know) and I drunk my sad ass off. So much that I got sick like I've never done before in my life.
I said I'm lucky because my friends drove me home and slept over.

I drunk all this poison named "Baianinha", which consists basically of a cheap, coconut-flavored liquor with much, much alcohol. I drank about half a bottle of that shit ALONE.

I guess it was just like banging my head real hard to the wall and I hope not to get that fucked up again for a while.

And yeah. I do have friends. Hoorray!

love drags its ugly ass.

Yesterday was the day it was born.
And for some goddamned coincidence, the day when we finally shot it dead, in mercy.
So I mourn for it here, cry bitter angry tears for what dies.
Cry for what should have been, as all our plans jump out of the window.
We gave it all the rope in the world but we never noticed we were tying up its noose.

There used to be a field with colored flowers and a blue sky.
And now what?

I was late to my teenagehood.

It's always been like that for me. Late.
When everyone was starting to grow fur and get pimples, I was indulging in cartoons, videogames, action figures and toys.
When they were getting girlfriends and going out, I was at the peak of my romantic platonism. And didn't see a point in dressing up or going out at night.
I like to believe I have enjoyed every last drop of the things that please me.
Now that I'm 22, I'm practically married before most people I know.

Maybe that's what's bothering me so much.

God I feel like hell tonight

She looked like she came from some june fest, these we only have in this strange land.
She had orange locks, which were natural, and the remains of heavy make-up, to pretend like she has freckles.
Her eyes pierced my sight as I watched her lips move slowly, squeezing sorrow through a beautiful voice.
I just stared, stupidly, as if my finger's content wasn't denouncing my condition. I was miserable and no one could do anything about it.
It was the sight of mankind as wolves and vampires that stunned me tonight.
Or all these doors wide open in front of me, which will inevitably close at some point, and if I don't make a decision quickly, I will crash onto the wall.

should've lit me up, it's my lie

fucking lights are out again
what the fuck now?
why does the road disappear all of a sudden and then it's clear as light?
who's laughing?

I just hope I live a life worth writing a book about.

Bled White. Again.

Listening to Elliott Smith's and thinking about him writing and recording those masterpieces is, to say the obvious, depressing.
Yeah, we all have our bad times when we want to die, but sticking a knife to your stomach, that takes a lot of cold-blood.

Does taking your life make you a hero or a loser?

I don't know too much about Smith's personal life, except that he could be hard to deal with. I'm reading the Kurt Cobain biography and it's just impossible not to make a connection, not only of their lives, but also their deaths.
Although Smith never reached the meteoric popularity of Nirvana, he has loyal fans who probably see in him an idol, much like Cobain's fans do.

Fender bender

Fuck. I hate these things.
Just driving down the fucking street and the traffic being so jammed that it takes an hour longer than you wanted to get back to work. Exactly now.
Then to make it all better, I don't realize a car in front of me hit the brakes, 'cause I was distracted having a "quality five-seconds" with Ana, and we collide. Slightly, that's true. At least it wasn't a person crossing inadvertedly.
But still, FUCK. F-U-C-K.

Not that I'll let that spoil my day.

[Audio: The Electric Soft Parade - Empty At The End ]