"Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy."
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AU MILIEU DE L’HIVER, J’AI TROUVÉ QU’IL Y AVAIT, EN MOI, UN ÉTÉ INVINCIBLE. ET CELA ME REND HEUREUX. CAR IL EST DIT QUE PEU IMPORTE À QUEL POINT LE MONDE POUSSE CONTRE MOI, EN MOI, IL Y A QUELQUE CHOSE DE PLUS FORT. QUELQUE CHOSE DE MIEUX, POUSSANT DROIT DE RETOUR. |
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I should never think what's in your heart.
torek, 22. november 2011, 11:27
![]() She was standing there by the broken tree, her hands are all twisted, she's pointing at me. I was damned by light coming out of her eyes, she spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky. She said walk on over here to the bitter shade, I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know you've been saved. I'll try to decide when she'll lie in the end. I ain't got no fight in me. If this whole damn world, tells you to hold off, you choose to hold on . Once I put my coat on I'm coming out in this all wrong . She's standing outside holding me, saying oh please, I'm in love, I'm in love. Girl save your soul, go on, save your soul before it's too far gone and before nothing can be done. 'Cause without me you got it all, so just hold on. petek, 18. november 2011, 12:36
I made it. One single, clear cut. Because it keeps the pain away. For one moment you can't feel or think about anything. And then you'll be back to old you, self-hurting, melancholic and depressed person, killing guilt in too much liquid and drugs and just feeling sorry for the whole world and mostly, for yourself. And sometimes, I can't help feeling, what a wonderful thing it would be, if I could just disappear from everything and everyone. With a single puf, and I'll be gone forever. sreda, 16. november 2011, 14:03
![]() And my mind is lost between your fingers, lightly touching, slowly tracing the shape of my heart. I hope that one day you'll realize that the only thing I'm really afraid, is myself. You.
13:57
![]() I'm keeping away just to prove them wrong, but it doesn't want to go away. It's like nicotine in my blood, floating all over the way. sreda, 9. november 2011, 13:17
Pojma nimaš, kako zelo mi manjkaš. 집
torek, 1. november 2011, 14:19
Would I have the right to happiness? Why is it that I’m mired so deeply in such shallow wound. Living is like getting through a hail of arrows, but why do I have such a big target tacked on my heart? Emotions run the extremes, and I get left behind. I can’t grasp my heart. I let the world slip through. With happiness only few steps up, I crank up more stairs myself. For some people all this would be terrifying, but for me its more familiar than laughing. |
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