I told you, I was a trouble

Sou errada demais, carinhosa de menos pra você.
Sinto dizer.

Rice, Damien Rice

Enlouquecida ou não, teu perfume está pelos quatro cantos do meu quarto.

E mais uma vez, ele está comigo.

Accidental Babies

Well I held you like a lover

Happy hands, your elbow in the appropriate place
And we ignored our others' happy plans

For that delicate look upon your face
Our bodies moved and hardened

Hurting parts of your garden

With no room for a pardon

In a place where no one knows what we have done
Do you come

Together ever with her?

And is she dark enough?

Enough to see your light?

And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?

Do you miss my smell?

And is she bold enough to take you on?

Do you feel like you belong?

And does she drive you wild?

Or just mildly free?

What about me?
Well you held me like a lover

Sweaty hands

And my foot in the appropriate place
We use cushions to cover happy glands

In the mild issue of our disgrace
Our minds pressed and guarded

While our flesh disregarded

The lack of space for the light-heartedIn the boom that beats our drum
Well I know

I make you cry

And I know sometimes you wanna die

But do you really feel alive without me?

If so, be free

If not, leave him for me

Before one of us has accidental babies

For we are in love
Do you come

Together ever with her?

Is she dark enough?

Enough to see your light?

Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?

Do you miss my smell?

And is she bold enough to take you on?

Do you feel like you belong?

And does she drive you wild?

Or just mildly free?
What about me?

What about me?

What about...?

Damien Rice, just you for understand me.

I do not care what car you drive. Where you live. If you know someone who knows someone who knows someone. If your clothes are this years citting edge. If your trust fund is unlimited. If you are A-list B-list or never heard of you list. I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing you truly own. The only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and skin. I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.

- A.J.

Sem

Que dor! Sem razões certas, sem saudades, sem marcar, sem carne, sem palavras, sem nada. Que dor é essa tão forte que me deixa de cama? Não sei explicar, veio agora, não faz muito tempo, menos de duas horas.

500 Days of Summer

Tom: What happens when you fall in love?
Summer: You believe in that?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.