Good is better than perfect.
O pôr do sol reflectido na areia à beira mar da Zambujeira do Mar + Regina Spektor's Man of Thousand Faces = o Mundo era tão mais fácil se se resumisse somente estas duas variantes conjugadas.
7.9.10
His words are quiet like stains are. Stains that are trying to cover for each other or at least blend in with a pattern.
O pôr do sol reflectido na areia à beira mar da Zambujeira do Mar + Regina Spektor's Man of Thousand Faces = o Mundo era tão mais fácil se se resumisse somente estas duas variantes conjugadas.
19.8.10
13.8.10
6.8.10
You say "Fuck you little princess, who the hell do you think you are?"
«You know it isn't good, you know you're burning too much wood but I said if you burn out, the twisted irony is your ashes come home to me.
No other sucker's gonna have you on a fucking mantelpiece»
«Some days aren't yours at all.
They come and go as if they're someone else's days.
They come and leave you behind someone else's face.
They come in all quiet sweep up and then they leave and you don't hear a single floor board creak.
They're so much stronger than the friends you try to keep by your side»
4.8.10
The heart beats in threes just like a waltz.
« The piano is not firewood yet but the cold does get cold so it soon might be that. I'll take it apart, call up my friends and we'll warm up our hands by the fire. »
3.8.10
On a silent sea...
«Winds are whipping waves up like sky scrapers
and the harder they hit me, the less I seem to bruise.»
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