I don't like when people ask me:
"How are you doing"
So casually!!
I can never give them a real answer
The simple one they want.
So I lie to myself
Trying to feel something better..
"pretty good"
"I'm, (afraid) alright"
"Doing well"
When really
I honestly don't know how I feel..
And its frustrating
That I lie
Not being able to give you
the answer you want
Not being able to say
What my heart wants..

I felt like turning a talking doorknob and as the room got smaller
I walked a tightrope through the forest and
I felt strange and important as
I heard the sounds of smoke on a mushroom
I got lost in a garden of talking flowers after which
I spaced my eyes out in a house of cards
I said "off with her head" and grabbed my scissors
I killed the white rabbit and replaced him with a puppet and
          making my way back through the wardrobe
I dug a new tunnel
          to the part of my brain I don't remember

Have you ever felt like you don't know yourself
So everyday you put on a mask of who everyone else wants you to be
Have you ever been lost in a sea of faces
and you get to the point you don't know which one is yours

Sinto a areia entre os meus dedos.
Sinto o cheiro do mar a invadir-me.
Sinto a calma que me transmitem as ondas.

Um dia na praia.
Um dia em que desaparecem os medos
Em que a paz me-os tenta dissuadir
Com as mais puras sensações.

Um dia em que me sinto eu
Sem dar explicação.

Durante os meus dias,
Este é o meu apogeu
O mais alto ponto
O maior clímax
Da felicidade que sinto.

Respiro toda a tranquilidade
Tento que esta fique em mim
E me faça rugir em prol de viver...

Que em vez da sobrevivência
Eu tenha que optar pela vivência
Optar pela respiração voluntária
E não apenas na involuntária por obrigação.

Basta querer.
Arranjar poder.
De me poder mover.
E repor vontades
E liberdades.

Respiração ofegante.
A nostalgia lembra o proibido.
A Saudade amassa e esbofeteia
O ilícito, o ilegal, o que não tem....
A permissão de ser lembrado
Para cá entrar e marca deixar.

It's dark and lonely.
I don't see, hear or feel anything.
The air is shortened, I'm suffocating.
I try to get out of this maze of darkness,
but I don't find the portal.
Every second, the surface's tension is more severe, more intense.
I run, but I still at the same place
Someone please get me out of here.
I'm almost motionless, in the middle of nowhere.
What's this?
What am I doing stuck in here?
Why no one come and save me ?

For the first twenty years since yesterday
                  I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;
            For forty more I fed on favors past,
               And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last.
                    Tears drowned one hundred, and sighs blew out two,
               A thousand, I did neither think nor do,
               Or not divide, all being one thought of you,
               Or in a thousand more forgot that too.
          Yet call not this long life, but think that I
               Am, by being dead, immortal. Can ghosts die?