Ah, não


Às vezes me canso de todos os biquinhos, de todas as poses, de todas as intrigas bobas e as preocupações desnecessárias. Acho tão inútil, essa frescura, essa mania de parecer sempre a mais legal, mais engraçada, mais bem vestida, mais isso ou aquilo. Será que não dá pra entender que ser diferente é bom? Que ser menos é mais? Que nunca vai ser possível achar a pessoa certa se você não for uma pessoa certa o suficiente?
Festas não são importantes. Estudos são. Amizades são. Família, por pior que seja, é. Isso faz diferença. Quanto à beijos ou a cor do vestido, por favor, poupem-me. Isso não.

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