Latest Posts by victorlima1 - Page 5

'cause i got too much life

running through my veins

going to waste

Existe várias formas de matar alguém e a pior dela é esquecendo-a. Esquecer do qual incrível e especial aquela pessoa é, do quando divertida e inspiradora, e do quão bom foi amar ela.

I can’t help but wonder if those possessed in Fear Street were kind of like passengers during their individual sprees. Like they had to watch it all happen and feel everything that was happening to their body but couldn’t actually do anything to stop it. Nobody was strong enough to over come it until Sam briefly managed to near the end of 1666. Like I just keep thinking of Tommy being trapped in his own mind as he massacred his friends and the kids that he was supposed to be looking after.

The side that you don’t know about being an only child....

Sooo your siblings are annoying. They’re brats. Your sister stole your curling iron and won’t give it back, she also has that pair of jeans that you literally love to china and back. You want some alone time, some peace? Being alone is not all that it is hyped up to be. Here’s some reasons why: 

1: imagine coming home from school, your parents are both at work, and having n o o n e. Nada. Absolute no one to vent to about the crap day you’ve had. I mean sure, for you sibling people out there, an afternoon alone might seem like heaven, but try every day for your whole childhood….not so fun. 

2: No one understands you. Don’t get me wrong, you parents might get you. But they don’t understand you! They’re not sixteen years old. They don’t understand how your brain works they can’t relate to you. So they’re going to say that you’re being ridiculous when you’re making perfect logical sense and any sibling would agree with you on that. Key thing here: no one in your house relates to you or understands you. 

3: Play. You can’t play tag with one person. Or uno. Or twister. Or guess who. Or even freaking battle ships! The swings are only fun if you got your homie sister on the other one and you two are debating whether that cloud is a horse or a cactus. i literally had to like….use my imagination.

4: Sleepovers. You know what i’ve always envied? You know that scene in Parent trap? When the two girls are chillin playing cards on the bed with the dog and they’re just talking about life like its just casual—I WANT THAT! I want impromptu sleepovers, I want to fangirl over harry potter. I want to be eating chocolate at midnight with my sister/brother whilst watching Narnia. I WANT A SLEEPOVER EVERY SINGLE NIGHT/DAY AND WE WOULD HAVE SO MUCH FUN AND I WOULDN’T HAVE TO FALL ASLEEP KNOWING THAT I’LL BE ALL ALONE TOMORROW MY SAD LIFE IS SO TRUE AHHHHH

5: Family pictures at school. Okay so. a bunch of kids always complain when they have to take school pictures with their siblings, but hey I would freaking cherish this ish to the max. I’d be like ‘leave class ten minutes earlier than you’re supposed to meet me outside the gym and I’ll let you know about all the stuff thats happening. lets talk’. And you have a nice or not so nice photograph as a token of the time you told your sister that you liked Johnny from Science class and you both freaked out like teenagers because thats what you are. 

6: Having someone to fight for. Ima not gonna lie. I want a kind of relationship that siblings have–the one where even when you’ve just had an argument you know if they ever got into trouble you’d be the first one to jump in and help them. Also, I’ve always wanted to like  put someone in their place like: “Hey, that’s my brother and if you’re gonna talk about him like that you better run like hell because your ass will be hanging by its underwear from the roof in five seconds. Thank you.” 

7: . Building forts. Okay so I built forts when I was younger. Everyone did, come on. But the most exciting part about forts is actually making them. And I was all by myself. I didn’t have an assistant. I didn’t have a co pilot. I didn’t have someone to ask: “should this go here or there?” “Do you think we should have a chair here or no chair.” I needed advice and I had no one to give it to me. Plus like when your spreading out blankets you have to like ruffle it out by your self on one end and then walk all the way to the other end to fix that end only to discover that you’ve messed up the other end and then it goes on and on—honestly just like having two people spread out a blanket is so much easier and more effective. 

8: No cousins. Coming from a huge family, my mother has a lot of brothers and sisters which means that I have a lot of cousins. 26 to be exact. Being an only child, I have come to the realisation that my children will not get to have that. Or even a fraction of it. The family get togethers that are always hectic but make everyone the happiest they ever been. The exchange gifts. christmas. They won’t have any cousins on my side. So i just hope my future husband has siblings otherwise its going to be a lot of sad christmases. 

9: Having a sibling is like having a built in best friend. They’re always there, around the corner. theres no need to call and ask if they can come over, theres no need to plan it or arrange time…just simply go down the hall and knock on their door 

10: everyone thinks we’re spoilt self conceded brats when actually we’re not. like the ‘oh but you get all the attention and all the presents.’ like literally, kid, i got one present one year and it was a book. loved it, but it was just one. nothing was given to me freely just for the sake of it. i literally had to work my tiny butt off for everything. and then i become a teenager and my parents were like: ‘you want that? go buy it yourself.’ so we’re no less spoilt than you guys are. this stereotype is stupid and not to mention wrong. 

All in all. The Only child life can be summed up in one word: lonely. 

Very, very lonely. 

much love ❤️

being an only child and not close with your parents is hard when you love talking and can’t keep your mouth shut and are constantly making jokes. like i’ve always just kinda talked to myself since i had no one to talk to and now being think i’m weird. i cant be the only one who will have full on conversations out loud with only myself, right?

As an only child, maybe I’m the only one who feels this way. But, in my opinion we pick our closest friends to substitute for brothers and sisters, and though we love spending time with them, we’re perfectly comfortable being alone when things get too hectic. In fact, that’s where we thrive when it comes to creativity and thinking. 

💚👑LYSANDRA👑💚

If you repost it on Instagram, please give full credit to @_manon_blackbeak(me), thank you🖤

eu não posso ser sua amiga, porque a intensidsde dos meus sentimentos me machucam. Você não é amigo. Você é amor.

Any nostalgia I feel is literary. It’s not the stillness of evenings in the country that endears me to the childhood I spent there, it’s the way the table was set for tea, it’s the way the furniture was arranged in the room, it’s the faces and physical gestures of the people. I feel nostalgia for scenes. Thus someone else’s childhood can move me as much as my own; both are purely visual phenomena from a past I’m unable to fathom, and my perception of them is literary. They move me, yes, but because I see them, not because I remember them.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

it blows my mind that no matter the time or place, no matter how poor or rich, how happy or sad men were, we have always invented stories. to pass the time, to keep us company, to entertain and to teach; we never run out of characters, never run out of ideas. it's like our very souls can't bear the idea of not creating, of leaving tales untold

i'm sitting on my bed reading. it’s almost midnight. it’s summer. my window is open and the cool wind is blowing. it's cloudy but i can see the moon shining through the clouds. the crickets are very loud but very soothing. my room smells dusty and warm and no one else exists. the feeling never goes away. everything is quiet and i'm at peace.

the craziest thing about books is you can pick one up and remember exactly where you read and what you felt like when you read it. maybe it was a summer afternoon and you were sad, maybe it was a school night and you were up much too late and already feeling the next morning’s regret, maybe you read the book right after a fight with your mom and you were angry. and a book brings all those emotions and memories back, even if you don’t remember the story the book actually holds. don’t tell me literature isn’t magic 🪄

if nobody got me i know rue and jules .. Lol nevermind

can we go back to at least 200 years ago when there was no smart phone or even telephone and writing letters was the only way to connect to other people in other places ? i'm not saying these because it's romantic or aesthetic. i'm just tired of those "why it took you an hour to answer me ?"s and those "why did you decline my call ?"s. i just wanna ignore people for a whole month and just say the post office had some problems.

trees are very 🥺 because sometimes i’ll stand under the shade of a tree and look up at it and it’ll sway its branches about in the wind and i’m like oh my God i’m alive and YOU’RE alive. we are alive together and made up of the same starry stuff and standing right next to each other in this moment on this earth. do u feel it when i reach out and press my hand to your trunk? can you hear me? i think you’re so neat. and then the sunlight filters through its leaves just so and that lovely green color leaves me dazzled. it’s just very nice to be an alive thing next to a different sort of alive thing

Nostalgia is purely manufactured because we force teenagers to experience things before they're ready and we tell adults life ends at 25 so they can try to desperately reclaim their teenage years. It's okay to transition out of each phase when you're ready. The milestones for adulthood are not universal or even required

Arp 273 is a pair of interacting galaxies, lying 300 million light years away in the constellation Andromeda. The larger of the spiral galaxies, known as UGC1810, is about five times more massive than the smaller galaxy.

Image credit: NASA/ESA & Hubble

Not to be over dramatic or anything but the decline in popularity of hand written letters is one of the most disappointing decisions we've made as a modern society.

books?? amazing. paperbacks?? soft, cozy, may fit in your pocket, cheap so you don’t feel bad for taking notes in them. hardcovers??? beautiful, pristine, ground you into the world they hold by making you grip them tighter, the stars of every bookshelf. ebooks?? convenient, cheap, always with you, a vast library that you can hold in your palm. new books?? crisp, the smell of wood, ideas waiting to imprint themselves upon the world. old books?? objects transcending history, sweet smelling, enriched by the hands that stroked their pages. books.

one of my favorite things about human physiology is the way our eyes change when we look at someone we love. our pupils dilate automatically like they do when it’s dark outside and they’re trying to let more light in. except now it’s the light of your favorite person. the edges of our eyes soften a little and they sometimes even get watery which we also can’t control. tears of joy. we tend to raise our eyebrows as if we’re trying to make our eyes bigger. trying to get a better vision and seeing all the details. we tend to blink less than usual just to make the moment last a bit longer. even if it’s just a second. or when you smile at someone with your entire face involved and your eyes just crinkle and create a sparkle in them. and it all happens so effortlessly and universally.

i don't think ill ever get over the lyrics one heart broke, four hands bloody because olivia is essentially saying yeah you broke my heart but i broke it too and when you're in your first serious relationship you really do break your own heart because you put everything in that first person and when the break your heart you immediately wreck yourself thinking of everything you did wrong and yeah anyway favorite crime is a hurt song

I cannot pretend anymore, I will burn the world for you if it only means to hold you in my arms for a minute, as my head is softly tucked into your chest. as our heartbeats march in sync towards doom.

Picture this: It's a rainy day. You're sat in a quaint quiet cafe filled with oddities and knick knacks, and large bay windows that look out onto a cobbled street of a small European city. You watch people run about, doing their errands, darting in and out of shops, with their umbrellas bobbing up and down in their haste. The sweet foamy coffee you're sipping on from a vintage porcelain cup warms your insides. There is an innate sense of calm and tranquility as you sit there watching the world exist, and for a brief moment, time simply stops.

I am not meant for this world. I belong in a thick magical forest, filled with woodland elves, fairy rings, old oaks, werewolves howling at the moon, faeries dancing under waterfalls, and unicorns hidden away- only seen by nymphs. I want to live in a cottage surrounded by falling petals. I want fauns to play their flutes from willow trees. I want to hear the sound of dragons roaring through the sky. I want to make a garden for myself, and make a welcome sign to all the woodland creatures to my cottage of love and magic. I just want to live in a fairy tale and leave this world forever.

last night as i was falling asleep i was thinking about the beauty of loving someone in any form and just wanting things with them without any ulterior motives or any other goal. like wanting to be around someone because you love them and want them in your life, not because they can do something for you, wanting to make someone food or make things for them in general not because you expect something in return but because you want them to eat well and to be happy. wanting to hold someone just because you want them close and want to make them feel safe and warm. wanting to wash someones hair because you love them and want to take care of them. anyway i think its really sweet and beautiful how a lot of times when we love someone we do things like this

a country estate. with portraits and paintings and marble statues. great big dusty libraries filled with worn spines titled with embossed letters. gardens i can take walks around when my existence gets the best of me. flowers, hedges, pathways. nearby lakes. i wanna be rich not to be a modern socialite but to wear corseted dresses and take turns around the room. strawberries and champagnes and sunrises over the rolling hills. petrichor. dew. golden morning sunlight. fresh fruit. love, in every aspect of the word. 

the fact that time passes and things change and people leave and you can only go back to a place physically and you will never be 14 15 16 again………….. i don’t understand how we are meant to endure that

sorry to disappoint you, but i’d rather stare out of the window, listen to music and create fake scenarios in my head than do those worthless mortal tasks

if they ever ask you about me tell them I was the only person in your entire life who ever loved you with honesty. and then, tell them how you broke my heart