tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91723418756140169552024-03-05T06:08:28.013-08:00The Mad RitaOlá e bem-vindos ao meu blog!Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-64225824757972309952012-04-27T12:32:00.001-07:002012-04-27T12:32:46.273-07:00Today I decided to read some of my old posts and I got sick. They're all about him. I think it's enough already, I don't want to write about him anymore. I'd rather write about some red rose that I found on the street, but I never found one. So I just write about him. Enough already.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-57026086719431767002012-04-14T13:18:00.001-07:002012-04-14T13:18:38.784-07:00I'M SO FUCKING HIGH!Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-71573271752781491322012-03-31T15:35:00.002-07:002012-03-31T15:35:19.973-07:00Just stuffJust close your eyes <br />
And think for awhile<br />
Remember all the things <br />
That ever made you smile<br />
<br />
Remember the feeling<br />
Of the rain in your face<br />
Forget about the past<br />
And find that little place<br />
<br />
Where dreams come true<br />
And you can be just you<br />
Without judgments of people<br />
Who can’t understand youRitahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-26257219046193296432012-02-21T17:13:00.001-08:002012-02-23T15:38:22.702-08:00I'm tiredToday was so fucked up. I spent the entire day with him and his perfect girlfriend. Yes, she's perfect. She's skinny, she's pretty, she's smart, she sings, she's cute, she's everything. Why do I keep asking why he doesn't love me? It's obvious, isn't it? She's everything I'm not. There's the answer. And I'm tired. I'm tired of this pain. I love him since I know him. That was 4 years ago. 4 years is a lot of time. And I'm tired. I'm tired of being ignored. I'm tired of being her friend, because that's not enough. Not for me. I want more. I want him. I want to kiss his head, touch his ears and tell him "I love you" knowing that he feels the same way. I know that will never happen, but I still can't forget him. He's so perfect. At least for me. Even his flaws are beautiful. I love everything about him, literally, but I'm so tired of this... I really am. I'm tired of pretending I'm fine. I'm tired of pretending I don't love him. I'm tired.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-22686247327190358652012-01-16T15:41:00.000-08:002012-01-16T15:42:08.018-08:00Just random dreamsLast night I dreamed with him again. I don't know where we were, but there were a lot of grass and trees, and there was a big abism. I was about to fall from it when suddenly he pulled me up with all his heart. He hugged me and cried, while whispering "I can't lose you". Then we kissed for a long time and sat down against a tree, just hugging and talking. I was happy for the first time in a while. The next thing I know, I was getting ready to school. My nightmare started in the second I opened my eyes.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-62462924742830896632012-01-16T15:16:00.000-08:002012-01-16T15:16:53.934-08:00Paramore - Pressure"Tell me where our time went<br />
And if it was time well spent<br />
Just don't let me fall asleep<br />
And feel empty again<br />
<br />
'Cause I fear I might break<br />
And I fear I can't take it<br />
Tonight I'll lie awake<br />
Feeling empty<br />
<br />
I can feel the pressure<br />
It's getting closer now"<br />
<br />
(...)Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-81350342966552949792012-01-16T15:13:00.000-08:002012-01-16T15:13:45.759-08:00So many fucking lies!No. No, I'm not strong. I'm not going to get over this. I'm not going to forget this. This will not get better with time. I'm not going to find my "true love". I'm not going to be happy. Please, stop lying to me... Please!Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-50972527207427831212012-01-04T17:57:00.000-08:002012-02-12T03:32:06.004-08:00Shit2011 was a fucking bitch to me. Besides the fact that my grandmother died, my parents found out that I smoke and freaked out and my grades were the lowest ever, it was a normal year. Actually, a lot more shitty things happened, I just don't want to talk about them. I can't stand classes. I can't stand my classmates. I can't stand my teachers. I can't stand anything! I missed 2 classes today, and I made my best friend miss them too, just because I couldn't go. We just stood there, in front of the school, talking and listening to some music. And at home things aren't better. I would really enjoy having good grades and having a good relationship with my mother, but I can't study. I just can't. I grab a book, read two lines and start to think about something else. And I try really hard to stay concentrated, but I just can't. Oh, fuck this shit.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-48000896552065720622012-01-02T18:11:00.001-08:002012-01-02T18:11:33.278-08:00Smile- Hey you!<br />
- Me?<br />
- Yeah, you! Hi... Can you tell me something, please?<br />
- I guess...<br />
- Do I look happy?<br />
- Hum... I don't know you...<br />
- Yes, but do I look happy? Just answer, yes or no?<br />
- Well, yes...<br />
- Thank you. Have a nice day.<br />
<br />
It's amazing the amount of shit that a little smile can hide. What a beautiful way of lying!Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-28880483345546687772012-01-01T11:42:00.000-08:002012-01-01T11:42:37.023-08:002012New year expectations:<br />
<br />
- Lose weight;<br />
- Improve my grades.<br />
<br />
New year impossible dream:<br />
<br />
- Having the person I love loving me back.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-50602349409714872011-12-31T07:59:00.000-08:002011-12-31T07:59:25.468-08:00I want himI want to lose weight so the person I love will love me back. I want to look him in the eyes, touch his face, hug him and kiss him. I want him to say "you're mine". I want him to be mine. I want to live in the same city that he does. I want to study in his school. I want to sit on a random beach and just cuddle with him, listening to good music and talking until the sun goes down. I want to walk around holding hands. I want someone to say that we were made for each other. I want to eat my favourite ice cream flavour with him. I want to smoke weed with him. I want to go to a show with him. I want to get drunk with him. I want him to introduce me to his friends as his girlfriend. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to dream about him again. I don't want to sit down, look at the stars and imagine what he's doing right now. I don't want to miss him. I don't want to cry everytime I look at a picture of him. I don't want to pretend I'm happy. I just want him.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-41831077778794171012011-12-30T20:03:00.001-08:002011-12-30T20:03:42.086-08:00I feel...... so empty.Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-17106525391893870832011-12-30T20:01:00.000-08:002011-12-30T20:01:26.567-08:00uekfjvydgxhjI think I still love him. After all this years. When people talk about love his face appears immediatly in my head. I feel like I'll never find someone like him, serisously. Otherwise I would have found already. My best friend says that we were made for each other and that he's with the wrong person. He just doesn't know yet. Honestly, I think like this sometimes, but it sounds so unreal at the same time that I just feel like an idiot. Maybe that's just what I am. An idiot that will die alone because she can't find a boy that she loves more than this one. It's so weird, I just feel like he's the one. I don't know what else to say, I'm just so confused, I don't know what to think anymore...Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-90972054092587570312011-12-27T17:55:00.001-08:002011-12-27T17:58:16.712-08:00Blink-182 - I Miss You<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1tAYmMjLdY&ob=av2e"></a><br />
<br />
"Hello there,<br />
The angel from my nightmare<br />
The shadow in the background of the morgue<br />
The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley<br />
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want<br />
Where you can always find me<br />
And we'll have halloween on Christmas<br />
And in the night we'll wish this never ends<br />
We'll wish this never ends<br />
<br />
(...)<br />
<br />
Don't waste your time on me you're already<br />
The voice inside my head (I miss you, miss you)"Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-75860023536064165172011-12-27T17:50:00.001-08:002011-12-28T06:21:09.205-08:00I think my head...... is going to explode!Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-73888408403676585552011-12-27T14:39:00.000-08:002011-12-27T14:39:45.613-08:00Lame<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hello people. I'm sick... My head hurts, my throat hurts, even my ears hurt. I hate this! I spent literally all day sleeping, and I barely ate. The only thing I could eat was my mother's rice. Like a soup. With rice. Whatever, it was very good. I've been listening to dubstep a lot, lately. Me gusta! Oh my God, my life is so lame that I don't even have a subject to talk about. I'm talking about my stupid day, for God's sake... I need weed.</span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-66292919544737847192011-12-21T10:44:00.000-08:002011-12-21T10:44:40.265-08:00...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't do anything right. Every move I make is a mistake to someone. To my family, to my friends, maybe even to my rabbitt. There isn't one thing that I do right. Not even one.</span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-87634625980408379322011-11-12T20:27:00.000-08:002011-11-12T20:27:27.382-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mind is a disaster. Can't write a thing.</span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-84802592529384548322011-08-19T08:40:00.000-07:002011-08-19T08:40:42.297-07:00Há dias...<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">... em que a nossa vida é uma <i>merda</i> e, se pudéssemos voltar atrás no tempo, voltaríamos.</span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-14180516049275988332011-08-11T12:16:00.000-07:002011-08-11T12:19:22.812-07:00Sair, sair, sair<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ainda ontem cheguei a casa e já estou farta de cá estar... Amanhã vou-me embora outra vez, e só penso nisso. Costumava ser uma pessoa bastante caseira, mas agora, não consigo estar um dia inteiro sem sair de casa, nem que seja para ir ao páteo fazer qualquer coisa. Preciso de apanhar sol na cara todos os dias, ar fresco, chuva, o que seja!</span></span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-90765928491172231332011-07-23T11:33:00.000-07:002011-07-23T14:03:19.859-07:00Não sempre. Não nunca.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-w33itD5eNOptMOxUPVbm-aBPElDzV9mmeai0RDjQ1bD1C5deGTBbunDAcSSU0NjUqzgGIn-lg8kmTL1xihQKhAhIJ5E8rzHdBsRefcEj-rQrePJoz3FZWdqg7NjKGDOean1NwjT3CkQ/s1600/sujdbvcuiAKVBSD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-w33itD5eNOptMOxUPVbm-aBPElDzV9mmeai0RDjQ1bD1C5deGTBbunDAcSSU0NjUqzgGIn-lg8kmTL1xihQKhAhIJ5E8rzHdBsRefcEj-rQrePJoz3FZWdqg7NjKGDOean1NwjT3CkQ/s320/sujdbvcuiAKVBSD.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Raiva? Sim. Muita. Pena? Oh... Nenhuma. Medo? Nem um bocadinho. Desilusão? Ainda mais que a raiva. Muito, muito mais. E com o tempo não diminui, mas continua a aumentar. Infelizmente. Pior altura da minha vida? For sure! Também a altura em que preciso de apoio, e não mo dão. Mas dão-me outras coisas... Merdas. Infantilidades. Chatices. Quem me dera que não me dessem nada... De todo. Era melhor. Preciso deles? Sim. Das coisas que eles me têm dado? NADA! Preciso de apoio? Sim. Alguma vez mo deram? Alguns. Dão-mo agora? Não mesmo. Alguma vez me vão dar? Fazem-me duvidar de tal coisa. Porquê? Solidão. Falta de apoio. Falsas amizades. Falsas pessoas. Falsas esperanças. É isso. Falsidade. Sempre. A toda a hora. Aqui e ali. Estou a ser injusta? Talvez. Eles não o merecem? Merecem muito pior. Eu sou como eles? Oh, não... Alguma vez fui? Talvez. Vou voltar a ser? Não posso ter a certeza. Mas de uma coisa eu tenho a certeza. Nunca lhes fiz o que eles me estão a fazer agora. NUNCA. Mas mesmo depois de tudo isto, ainda lhes agradeço. Por me fazerem mais forte, menos ingénua, por me abrirem os olhos ao mundo, aos milhões de pessoas que existem como eles, por me ensinarem a não confiar facilmente, a não ser facilmente de confiança, por me ensinarem a não ser como eles. Pelo menos não agora. E acredito que nunca. Mas não posso ter a certeza. De nada. Não sempre. Não nunca.</div>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-81753748268515530902011-07-21T20:28:00.000-07:002011-07-21T20:30:08.445-07:00Live Life. Regret Nothing.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Take chances. <b>Tell the truth.</b> Date someone totally wrong for you. Say no. Spend all your cash. Get to know someone random. <b>Be random.</b> Say I love you. Sing out loud. Laugh at stupid jokes. <b>Cry.</b> Apologize. <b>Tell someone how much they mean to you.</b> Tell a jerk what you think. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Live life. <b>Regret nothing.</b>"</span></div>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-68844155541918237212011-07-20T14:28:00.000-07:002011-07-20T14:28:07.237-07:00Hate Kills, Love Heals, Life Sucks, Reallity HurtsWhat if one day I decided to go away and never come back? How would you feel? Would it make any difference? Or would you just not notice it at all? Simple questions that I do to myself every single day. But they don't change the way I feel about you, they just change the way I feel about me. And it's not a good change... At all. Just makes me feel more useless, more abbandoned, more different. Just makes me feel like a lonely freak and makes all my hopes go away. My hopes to touch you, to have you loving me the way I love you... But, in the bottom, I know that's impossible. You have a girlfriend and you're just about to live far, far away from me. That's it. "Hate kills, love heals, life sucks, reallity hurts."Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-31806436285129393272011-07-11T16:42:00.000-07:002011-07-11T16:42:10.401-07:00I hate my life now<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Minha primeira grande desilusão... A minha avó morreu e os meus amigos não me apoiam... Podia escrever umas 500 linhas a dizer como estou mal, e como preciso deles e eles me cagam em cima, e como sempre estive lá para eles e eles não o retribuem, e bla bla bla, mas simplesmente não me apetece. 1 conselho: Nunca depositem todas as vossas esperanças numa pessoa, nem confiem demais nela pois, quando menos esperarem, essa pessoa pode transformar-se numa desilusão. Agora adeus.</span>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9172341875614016955.post-57459089888310110082011-06-24T05:32:00.000-07:002011-06-24T05:35:39.571-07:00Quando as pessoas não prestam<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">É engraçado como todas as pessoas</span><span style="font-size: small;"> dizem que não se importam com o que os outros fazem, mas depois criam rumores e boatos sobre coisas que nem têm a certeza se é verdade. E mesmo que fossem, qual é o interesse? Cada pessoa tem o direito de fazer o que lhe apetecer, mesmo que mais tarde se venha arrepender disso. É assim que se cresce, é assim que se vive. A aprender com os erros. Para quê dar aos outros uma imagem irreal de alguém? Estragar a oportunidade de essa pessoa dar uma boa imagem de si ao mundo? As pessoas realmente não valem um peido.</span></div>Ritahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18093451974380201793noreply@blogger.com0