Bom já coloquei muitos posts e não falei nada de mim...

Tipo vai ser dificil colocar uma foto minha, pois eu sou meio chata com isso!!

Bom sou uma menina, me chamo Samara....não é a do chamado...rs

AMO escrever...tenho meus proprios textos...como já deu para perceber...

Sou meio timida...mais quando confio na pessoa me sinto mais avontade!!

ahh

curto rock melodico, etc

amo andar de skate e amo meu violãozinho feinhuu!!

ahh quando lenbrar de mais alguma coisa eu faloo!!

...xD

Far from home was;

Far from friends, family;

Now is not anything else.

The life gave him opportunities;

At the same time he has left mistrust.

Thus appeared other ways;

Paths easy cooler.

And now?

How back?

In a path of no return?

Just find a shortcut;

More then that is another story.

...friendship....

~Once there was a boy who had a very bad temperament.

The father of the boy gave him a bag with nails and said that every time he lost his patience should hammer a nail behind the fence.

On the first day the boy enfiou 37 nails in the fence.

In a few weeks, according to which he was learning to control his temperament, the number of nails martelados per day reduced gradually.

He found it was easier to control his temperament than hammering nails in all those around ... Finally came the day that the boy has not lost the patience nor once.

So he came and said something to his father.

This suggested that he withdraw a nail for each day so that he could control his temperament. Finally came the day that the boy had removed all the nails of the fence.

Then his father held his hand and led him to some and said:

You have been very well my child, but look at the holes in the fence.

ABOUT will never be the same.

When you say things angry, these things leave scars just like these.

It's like you put a knife into a man and withdraw it.

Not vai import how many times you ask excuses, the hole vai be there the same way.

A verbal wound is as bad as a physical.

Friends are extremely rare jewels.

They make you smile and give support so that you have success.

They lend an ear, they welcomed and has the heart always open to you.

The love is in pieces ... Your heart I'll steal and takes it to another hemorrhage...

My life

Your life

s2

His Vices

(Samara Viviani)

Handlebar grips weep blood,

asking for help but nobody listens;

nobody wants to hear.

The cries of distress increasingly high.

Tears flowing through their lips;

Lips that are closed by much time.

The cries of distress increasingly high.

The day of despair, lies and surprises.

The days are numbered for their departure.

The cries of distress increasingly high.

Only Wonder of writing;

His crying wet tender,

once the flows of ink pen;

Words flow into your mind.

The cries of distress increasingly high.

Think about everything that lived;

knowing that his life was the road to death.

The cries of distress increasingly high.

His vices killed-in;

His vices.

~Tradução

Seus Vícios

(Samara Viviani)

Punhos chorar sangue,

pedindo ajuda, mas ninguém ouve;

Ninguém quer ouvir.

Os gritos de socorro cada vez mais elevados.

Lágrimas fluem através de seus lábios;

Lábios que são fechados por muito tempo.

Os gritos de socorro cada vez mais elevados.

Um dia de desespero, mentiras e surpresas.

Os dias são numerados para a sua partida.

Os gritos de socorro cada vez mais elevados.

Só quer saber de escrever;

Seu choro molhado concurso,

Uma vez que o fluxo de tinta de caneta;

Palavras fluem em sua mente.

Os gritos de socorro cada vez mais elevados.

Pense em tudo o que viveu;

sabendo que sua vida foi o caminho para a morte.

Os gritos de socorro cada vez mais elevados.

Seus vícios mataram-no;

Seus vícios.

Pain or pleasure?
(Samara Viviani)


Days happy there are no more
I feel pain, do not want to open my eyes
My voice does not come out, my hands are cold
My head turned drums

I feel that my heart beats with increasing desperation,
Termed my legs, my wrists leak and blood flows between my fingers frozen.

I can not say if it comes to pain or whether it is a pleasure,
But fly my problems and my mind turns into my own world.

My voice returns with a sigh ... Pain or Pleasure?
But this time my eyes weep, wept as never before,
And my mind returns to real, to now.

And now I feel more hatred, anguish and loneliness ... Pain or Pleasure?

Thus every day of my life miserable!

Tradução

Dor ou prazer? (Samara Viviani) Dias felizes não existem mais;

Eu sinto dor, não quero abrir meus olhos;

A minha voz não sai, minhas mãos estão frias;

A minha cabeça virou tambores.

Eu sinto que o meu coração bate com crescente desespero,

Tremem minhas pernas, meus punhos vazamento de sangue e de fluxos entre meus dedos congelados.

Não posso dizer se trata de dor ou se é um prazer,

Mas voar meus problemas e minha mente se transforma em meu próprio mundo.

A minha voz retorna com um suspiro... Dor ou Prazer?

Mas desta vez os meus olhos chorar, chorei como nunca antes,

E meu espírito volta ao real, para já.

E agora me sinto com mais ódio, angústia e solidão... Dor ou Prazer?

Assim é todos os dias da minha vida miserável!