De novo, again

Hoje foi mais um daqueles dias.
Sabe quando nao se sabe mais se esta em surto ou nao? Quando tudo escapa tao levemente e tao facilmente pelas maos. O que e real, o que e sabio, o que e biscoito. Biscoito. Coisa de crianca, de quem nao quer crescer, de quem nao quer levar a vida a serio.
Ai eu paro.
O que e serio? Tudo para mim e tao real. A esquizofrenia, as vozes, os espiritos, do bem ou do mal.
O que e me levar a serio?
O que e saber depois daquele toque, que vem como furacao, o que e certo , o que e errado?
Quem vai saber dizer.
Sei que sinto falta do meu conto de fadas. De contar as estrelas e achar tudo mais especial. Mas o especial esta aqui e claro. So que as vezes nao tao forte, nem tao macio, para enxugar as lagrimas.
Hoje foi apenas mais um dia.

Sera?

Sera?

What is love? What is love anyway?

So what is love anyway?
Is who you wait to hate?
Maybe I cant love afterall, or write, or be a decent woman. Maybe Im all in reverse.
*Im made out of blue.*

Is there life after a break down?

I have been thinking about it. Not my spell deficiencies, or my possible lack of talent to do what I would love to do. Thinking about life.
When I decided I was actually going to write something, a book, cronics, whatever it could be and try to make a living out of that, the first thing that came to my mind was 27. Damn 27. So confused, so blue, so delusional.
I wonder if i have changed all that much from the times I would still wear a Kurt Cobain shirt and play Ms bad mood all day at school.
I should see it clearer. Shouldnt I?
People like me dont measure words, dont think ahead and that is a serious problem.
You probably wonder what happened with me, just like juno, except im not 16 anymore and wasnt pregnant. I wish. But my latest breakdown brought me back the will to live, at least to try and live in a positive way. If that is possible. Nothing complicated, just to live my daily basis without being so up and so so down.
Hope I can do it.
Well, this starts now.