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Today I am more than bipolar

Between laughs, blushes and nostalgia hid me today. I can not stop, I can simply.
I know well that it is more worthwhile to keep shooting a bullet of regret and pain every day. I know I'm pathetic to the point that I left before I throw away.

I have to leave it behind, after six months I have to. I need to say thirty-seven times that I beat him and so long and I'm stubborn. But hey, now, is high time that I pull over the evening crying (oh! That was only a Diaye I already paint it all).

buf ... is that I can, bastard! P or something you chose before u__u

--->
Yesterday I lay awake thinking of you.
Your eyes become black and light, cold
when your hands touch me, your lips sigh
my sunset. When you sleep by closing
doors,
run after my dream inert.
When I tremble, faint sweet spots
your yesterday incongruous.

If my hands a few letters, a handful of love
undecided;
in your mouth a couple of sentences foolish weeping
daggers in your big mistake.
have me between tabs, almost your flash
darker. While the gap
look in my eyes, shun
from my suffering,
leave me without a hint of encouragement.
---->

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What little is left ...


Today I was in a lj an entry about a Tokio Hotel-those of 2007 - the girl had attended and said that according to statistics 12.000 tickets were sold. And suddenly, I felt something strange inside, in my heart something stirred, a strange nostalgia mixed with pity.
I remember when I was a fan crazy 2 years ago. I did not write fanfics or anything like that, writing with "sz" and spelling errors etc., who fantasized about Tom, fiercely defending the band and could not talk about something else (the latter situation has not changed much) . Reminiscences began

orginale by the band, and I was extremely disappointed in my fanaticism. Think of what once was Tokio Hotel makes me feel ... out of place. Bill Strange's hair, the personalities that drove record, the number of fans, success, everything ...

I remember going to his first book signing in Mexico. Wow, there was not come to the row and I was crying with excitement and Paco Mahtob thank you very much: D-, met people, I cried and all the fans chanted, there were thousands ! [August 30, 2008]

After that good memory, I have the following in chronological order is later, was the November 10, 2009. There were fewer people, yes, maybe by the number of bracelets.
sacrificed things for them-perhaps at this time sacrificed part of what is now both missing from my life.
As a typical fan, I can not stop the tears in my eyes to remember when I played with Tom, when I pulled it and looked up a millisecond (like giving shit who had to pull the sleeve), when Gustav signed my jacket, when I turned around and my mother was waiting with open arms, ready to put up with tears of joy over fifteen minutes.

I think if you continue talking about it, end up crying a confused mixture of nostalgia, sadness, pity, disappointment, happiness, sufficiency and a thousand feelings.

2009 2008

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If you say perfect is lying ... (8)

---->
If I listen, I disappeared from the valley of whispers prohibited.
never go out of the foam and you stay paralyzed by the ruins of me, those who prey on you and kiss you. Where to stay yesterday in a dead sleep? Where is your soul when you think me?

If I forget thee, the gray sky crumbles before my eyes.
you miss me from oblivion, I will escape from the attractive game trembling silence. My mouth opens, I look at you and I know there is more to say when you look away.

If you know, a few perennials scattered moments of happiness shine.
I know you is simple, run while you forget. What if I follow you? Look at the sky and fades away, a warm gush of joy that surrounds you is the last look. If

touch me, do not look.
Open your mouth and tell me what I want, tell me there is nothing, no more follow in your footsteps. Join my strokes, close doors, move the wind, because here we'll stay, save the time.

If you do not want, do not go. Come back when you can, come back to me when my voice and want to draw the final dark next to me.
--->

Again, what I've gone poof. Damn place! Damn you !

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To be happy just missing you

Lalalalala (8)
What I want is you, baby (8)

I feel so very pathetic today. No, wait, not to feel pathetic, you feel stupid. I think that when I accept it, things improved so much, make me so happy, I create joy.

--->
cross A look, a smell, a memory, a kiss, a last fall. Everything is you. A final flutter
breaking half of its beauty and transcends the barriers of forced forgetting. As forbidden as it sounds, as simple as you, so you cry immortal death.

The sigh that is cut, the flashing fancy, uncomfortable silence dies. Everything is you. The poem broken
you leave in the morning when you look in the mirror and you go down the run.

Your black eyes that feed my regrets and broken promises, these rows of lashes, your nose thin that draws the outline of your life, my last hope, your lips just have ; gone a murderer scarlet, forming a huge smile that sparkles perfectly. What wrong
perfect creature you are, how horrible you gone to mortal eyes, how unattainable face is drawn in the sketch.

Among the wind you get lost and come back wet, filled with rain running down your height, it falls to the ground with grace will never touch. ---->



not need to tell me what "love" I am, thanks xD.
PS: I love my gatitaaaa!

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Le masque month

---> Never
escribiríaa him. It is as if the words from slipping between the ink and not end to translate the infinite dark shining in my mind. Harsh memories
back and go, returning to the coast of my deepest fear, the fear that surrounds the shell of my thoughts away.

And without a step to the left I lost the course of life, silences that are not compose melody. I just try to find and drown in my endless agony, I stand in the rubble of a finding of light and tangled lilies entwine my sanity.
Do not miss me, do not write, do not cry, because you mist, fly ash in my soul. I do not even perceive your scent wallowed in memories. I have finished writing you

and more insane to accept the final slothful, I accept the pulse lies hidden beneath the fabric thicker.
->
San and Kimberly
inspired me was his fault to write this. Btw, how good you do not read them because if you do not know what I mean ... N___n

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Nice sentiments ~ ~ n__n


Hey!
Have you noticed I edited my lj? Aw, it took like ... a day, between finding the moodtheme and all that. __.
Anyway, here I am, this time with something so personal and trying to find inspiration in my Maruchan chicharito. (Nah, sorry, I'm chistosita: $)

'm Such a Mess, I know it, and? I love being to mess @. @

Let's ... death and pain. Cool ~

--->
The scarlet strokes roamed the razor's edge. Has seen a few drops of your arm and repentance came in a steady stream. But there is nothing to do for your soul caged in bitterness and resentment against his own reflection. Drawing

the remains of his memoirs, he discovered that they are disfigured and powdered, stored in a corner of his mind. Surprisingly, that's no regrets, no regrets even their memories.

After the nostalgic evening, time seems to collapse and hang over your head. The funny raindrops roll over the smooth surface of the window. And yet, already has committed the worst of their sins.

Nobody is total silence that overwhelms the mind helpless. The mirror never see the smooth lines of your lips, dark eyes that threaten to engulf the patience.
I know, never again touch the skin of his illusion. What will

of his soul when finished spilling his life?
--->

Duuh ... you know you leave a comment and add you xD, well read and so all of my insanities. : D Later
I'm sure I'll post Something Completely in Inglés, yeah, later ... Auf wiedersehen

!
www.formspring.me/mon483