Rachaduras no peito são as janelas da alma mandando o amor entrar.
dois mil e dezesseis.
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Rachaduras no peito são as janelas da alma mandando o amor entrar.
dois mil e dezesseis.
Os teus olhos suplicam algo, mas não me enganam mais.
1:24 da manhã.
E antes de ir, você olhou pra mim, bem no fundo dos meus olhos e sussurou um adeus. Foi aí que eu entendi o que é o amor, é a vontade de guardar alguém dentro do coração, de cuidar, de proteger; porque foi exatamente isso que eu senti, quando você partiu.
Dezenove.
Deixe eu fazer parte das suas memórias da meia-noite.
15 minutos atrasado.
A vista estava muito linda, porém me perdi em teus olhos mais uma vez.
Dezenove.
Olhos, quando frios, ficam indecifráveis. Culpa do coração. E o que você pode fazer? Nada.
15 minutos atrasado.
Salve tudo o que realmente importa, o que realmente tira seu sono e não uns minutinhos da aula de matemática.
Agora eu sou pássaro.
My ideal job
When I was little, I used to dream almost all day about what I wanted to be. Doctor, president, firefighter, musician, and a lot of crazy stuff. My sister used to call me Diana "wanna be", and that was such good nickname. In fact, I wanted to try everything. But as I was growing up I got that I didn't want any of that. I'm not even sure what I'm going to eat tomorrow, how am I going to know what's my ideal job?! But then reality hits me, and yeah. I'm going to be an adult someday and I'll have to work. The only thing Im sure about is that I don't want to have a boss, I want to be my own boss. I wouldn't like to spend all my day sitting on my sore ass in front of a computer! Who would like that? I'm a creative person, I'd like to use my own ideas and do something or make something, like clothes or design stuff and such. Like, to put my own "style" on the things I create and people can wear it or admire them. I just want to be someone's rolemodel. And that's hard, I know. But I think I'm going to give everything I have to reach that point.