Happy Days


Where are they?? Wasn't I supposed to be happy with another birthday coming?? But since I remember, I always hated my birthdays. Since I can think of, I always tried to hide on my birthday. I always wished to be dead gone in that day. I always wished to shot anyone's head who wished to me a happy birthday. Thats not a happy day for me. That's not a day I like to be recalled at, that's not a day I wish to be happy and all smilie around!
You might be thinkin I hae the idea of getting one year older. Well, too bad news for ya: I don't fuckin' care about my age. That's just a number on a card and on a paper. It's unexplainable, I simply hate it! And since my dad passed away, 12 years ago, it's getting worse, year by year. The older, the more I hate this day. And my granny passed away 5 years ago, so it was worse! An worse, and worse and worse, day by day, year by year...
I was fucked up ast night. I woke up late and messed up in my head, anger, sad, today and I don't even want to imagine how will that be tomorrow! When tomrrow arrives, I wish a bottle of poison to drink it and leave this wicked world, hich keeps me trapped here. I hate being here, around this days. It would be greatif I could leave, if I could get an airplane and fly to Greece, to Thessaloniki, where I've been some yars ago, and stay there for a few months! It would be just perfect!!
I want to stop feeling this way. I wantto be happy, to be cool down, to be relaxed, to be fine, but no... It's the night I'll get highed or drunk and will barely find strenght enough to come home. I wnna burn my brains, burn my body, burn everything involved in my existance! I want to be gone...
I feel like vanishing with the wind... Slowly, fading away...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Loucura - há algumas horas atrás

Às vezes, poderia ter cinquenta blogs, com identidade desconhecida, com identidade patente. Poderia passar por cinquenta espaços diferentes e, ainda assim, não conseguir escrever sobre o que quero. Ainda assim, ser incapaz de escrever as palavras que me assombram, de dizer a verdade que tem de ser dita. Há umas horas atrás, iniciou-se uma certa mudança em mim. Nessas mesmas horas, apoderei-me de outro nome, outra vertente de uma outra existência. Se as coisas, por vezes, não fazem sentido, que se foda! Interessa que faça sentido para mim, que eu saiba o que digo, ao que me refiro. Interessa que, o que sinto, transpareça, sem muito compromisso. Há umas horas atrás, a noite fria presenciou algo, por esquinas, por becos escuros e húmidos, a cheirar a urina, que não imaginei alguma vez que fosse. Há horas atrás, morreram algumas certezas. Há algumas horas atrás...
Read more

The Blessing and the Curse of Technology

Technology is a blessing. And a curse. I am typing this message inside a very full bus. Few seats and not that much space for people doing this long hour trip on their feet. I am deactivating the cell phone's browser and Google Chrome, as I am sticking with Brave and have been for a while. And this process has been kinda painful: Google Chrome is the most used web browser and as most cell phones are part of Android universe, it's more than natural. However, it hands me a little too many ads and trying to read anything is almost certain that I'll end up hitting a surprise pop up ad. My cell phone is a Redmi, which gives me Mi Browser as a default. And although Mi browser blocks some commercials, it still allows pop ups; trying to see something on YouTube still gives me ads, despite the ad block. And although I'd like to use the easiness of Chrome or being faithful to Mi Browser, Brave wins. Wins because you block ads, because it blocks cookies without having websites ask...
Read more

The Idan Raichel Project com Ana Moura: "Sabe Deus"

Image
Directamente de Israel, chega-nos esta música, com a participação da sempre linda Ana Moura. Não poderia deixar de sentir o orgulho e a honra de tudo isto, de toda esta música, que me tocou a alma desde o momento da descoberta. Viaja a minha alma por terras de Além. E pela terras de Além (aonde, minha gente, mora a minha alma?), a minha alma sofre por estes cantos, a minha alma sofre por estes sentimentos. E sem bem saber como, a minha alma procura um jeito de desvincular-se de tanta coisa... Hoje, talvez seja a noite. Ou a manhã. E daí, talvez não... Tenho ponderado no encerramento dos meus blogs. Coisas temporárias, porque quero corrigir erros ortográficos, erros gramaticais... e escrever, entretanto, sem que isso implique que seja por aqui. Hoje, talvez seja a noite. Ou a manhã. Ou talvez não.
Read more