Angel Alucard

I look around and it doesn't seems to really matters. It doesn't matters where you are from and what you have been through. Some people will always annoy you, under certain circumstances and be the best mates on the others. And you burn. And it all burns. In the end, you'll still be alone. I take glimpses at them. Some disgust me. Others annoy me. Then, one of the most annoying, becomes the most desired. Isn't it weird? Does it makes any sense to you, dear reader? If it doesn't, even better. No one really needs to know and I just need to spit my thoughts.  I am alone in the night. I've been with so many different people tonight. I've been to so many different backgrounds in the last weeks and it still pleases me. I feel annoyed by my own wrong options, then again, I need to get back. It doesn't really matters in the end. Good night!

Gosto das noites da minha cidade. Gosto da minha gente - que nem só o sangue define pertença. Gosto de sentir-me senhor das ruas e de sentir-me sem receios. As noites da cidade são sempre especiais, mesmo que nada mais ocorra senão um café tardio, uma conversa parva num jardim. gosto disto.

No one gives a damn. No one knows either. I feel the night passing by the music that I listen to, I feel the melancholy burning in my soul. One cigarette after the other. One thought, another one and even a third one. They race like maddened horses. No one gives a damn. No one even knows. They see through me and some have even chosen to try it out. It wasn't in that night, but I an aware it'll happen. I am OK with that - the desire of one is the desire of another one. It harms me not. It kills me not. They see through me. They don't see in me. They don't realize how deep my soul goes, they don't feel the madness in my heart, the sadness in my life. People aren't aware. I am not reflecting everything in me anymore. I don't hide. I don't open the game up. I live according to what I am, to what I feel. And it's something. It is a big something.

Agradeço todas as vossas palavras. Agradeço o apreço que me demonstram. Agradeço a confiança em mim depositada. "... já não sabemos sonhar, já andamos a enganar o desejo de morrer!" Amália Rodrigues

Do not test me. Do not test my patience. Despite my low patience, despite my sarcasm, I'm a nice guy. I can be a very good friend, even though I fail - people justify this with my humanity. Do not test my good will. I am aware of who you are for a very long time. You haven't fooled me that last time. I knew you was taking the money and not giving it back. However, do not keep asking for more - those €5 have been enough and do not text me with excuses (I see them as lies), do not text me asking me to pay you a coffee or you take the risk of getting a reply equal to the one I sent you right after: "I wanna see the day that you're paying me something". You haven't replied. There is this other guy - he used to be a mutual friend. This other dude doesn't calls or texts as often as he used to. This guy also had to learn that I am not to take only. Oh. And yesterday night. Cigarettes and coffee? How did I guessed that you too wouldn't be waiting for me ...

Voltei. Ao espaço que larguei. Ao título que matara. Voltei. Às ruas que amei. Às esquinas onde morri sempre um pouco mais. Voltei. Aos risos infelizes e aos olhares distantes. Ao ataque. Voltei. À distância e ao desprezo. Ao Bitch que me chamam. À minha mostra de sentir. Voltei a procurar aconselhamento aqui e ali. Voltei a querer saber opiniões. Voltei a fazer o que amo. Voltei à musica de sonho. À verdade que quis esquecer. Hoje estou mais tranquilo. Esqueci o arrependimento. Hoje estou mais eu. Hoje sou mais eu. E isso é bom. Isso é muito bom.

Talvez tenha sido um erro apagar um blog alternativo em prol deste. Talvez o erro seja querer privatizar este mesmo blog, para que ninguém lhe aceda, enveredando, então, pelo caminho de que quis afastar-me. Talvez, o maior erro seja questionar-me constantemente. Quem sabe qual é o erro?