Blue Tinted Heart

I created this blog to release my feelings and, dunno, try to learn something from my depression — maybe I could understand it better, and heal. But truth is that I don’t want to heal. I want to die. Yes, I know this is just my depression speaking through me, but I like to think that’s what I want. I want to die. I want to give up. Again —  because I’ve given up already too many times. I just need to give up properly.

Last night I thought about changing the site domain to something more positive, or broader. I had some ideas. But, you know, the content will be the same. Even when I try to write something uplifting and happy, all I get is a mess of blue feelings. Maybe I should change words to heart. I need to think.

Blue is my favorite color. It is also the color of the suicide forum, though it was a different shade when I joined it a few years ago, I think. Though I prefer gray skies, it is still my favorite color. My eyes are brown, but…

Blue is my favorite color.

Portuguese doesn’t allow the fun to say you’re feeling blue. If you tell someone you feel “azul”, they will think you’re crazy, or that you’re literally blue now. At least I don’t think they will understand, unless they’re familiar with English. Brazil is just so colorful. Blue doesn’t mean sad. And why should it? Blue is everything… Including sad… And I am blue. Always. That’s why my words are blue tinted. I have a blue tinted heart. I am sick. Ill with my blue heart.

Funny thing; I’m wearing a blue dress right now. It has sleeves and feels comfortable.

Sometimes I wonder if I should just write in Portuguese. I hate making mistakes in English. I bet I make many. I absolutely hate it, so I always ask my friends to help me, but they don’t like doing that. Anyway, I love my first language, but my whole life is in English. My best friends, with one exception, only speak English, or barely ever speak their second languages. I teach English. Yeah, I think I suck. Especially when I’m sleepy. “How could anyone let me teach English”, my mind asks. Well, dunno. I have a paper that says I’m allowed to teach English, so yeah. I’m fluent, I’ve been talking with native speakers for years. Even face to face. I’m proud of my mild, smooth, super easy to understand accent. My beautiful, perfect accent. I… I rock, right? Even if flawed sometimes, I rock. Sometimes I say idiomatic expressions in English, but… I rock, don’t I? Tell me I do, please. Agree with me. Yeah, I do. I knew it.

I love English. I didn’t need English teachers that much because I loved reading dictionaries while waiting for mom to pick me up. Now I have so many I don’t even remember how many I own. Yes, I have problems. Big ones. Anyway, back to English — I think in English, I dream in English. I even speak more English than Portuguese if I’m not home (though my sisters are fluent). So posting in Portuguese doesn’t always make sense, though it is the rich, poetic language of my heart.

But what do I dislike about English? The way you guys deal with punctuation.

(A Canadian girl used to write like this.)

Why the freaking “.”? In Portuguese that wouldn’t make much sense, unless that period would be followed by a second sentence. Also, “who writes like this, I mean, like this,” get it? Why is the coma there? I mean… UNACCEPTABLE. It should… Agh! It should be here, outside: this”,

Maybe that girl was wrong, and that’s not the right way. Or maybe I’m an ancient 23 year old and things don’t work like that in Portuguese anymore.

So… Yeah. I also dislike how almost every and requires a coma. Or maybe, you know, that is a Canadian thing. I should just Google a bit more and find out the answer myself. My English friend also shares the same hatred for weirdly placed comas. My English is American, and even though the American man I love writes “grey”, I shall always write “gray”. Yeah, my . is outside because I’m a rebel.

But… I want to… Be perfect. I need to learn the two, three ways. Correct punctuation is a must, even if

I love




Doing things like



I am


Free when I write.


So why bother so much about punctuation?


I could go on and on with this. How people say “Hi M”, instead of “Hi, M”. I’m just too old school. I write like an old lady when I write in Portuguese.

But if I’m chatting with a true friend, I don’t need to be all perfect, do I? One coma here, one there. That’s okay. I don’t need everything.

How did my post end up being a rant about foreign punctuation…?

Diagnosis: grammar nazi.

Bleh, I’m not sure if I like being called that.




Anyway, this is me, ML

And I have a blue tinted heart.

Even in my passing happiness,

My heart beats blue





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