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Monica Bellucci

I have no idea how I'm perceived in America because I don't live the reality of America.

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You Have No Idea How Grateful I Am To You

Remember when you told me,
To go fly a kite?
Did you envision it to be seen,
By so many people?
That one suggestion,
Opened for me so many doors.

What else do you see in my future?
Anything luxurious on four wheels?
Any cruises on that menu?
How about a loving relationship...
With delicious chemistry and communication?
First or last names?
I'll even take initials at this point.
Let me know, okay?

When you told me to go fly a kite?
And I did?
You have no idea how grateful I am to you.

Here...
I brought to you the string.
Hold onto it.
And the first 'vibe' you get from it...
Call me,
Immediately!

What other talents have you been keeping from me?

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You Have No Idea How Deeply I Love

I will give you the shirt off my back.
The shoes off my feet.
Even my last dollar,
I need desperately.
I am compassionate to a fault.

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

But show me any indication,
You can treat me with continued...
Indignation.
And I will freeze up on you,
As if you have awakened for a long visit...
At the North Pole.

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

If 'ever' you decide,
You want to test what I've got inside...
Be prepared to shiver.
Because to you will be a cold breeze,
From me I will be quick to deliver.
You have no idea how deeply I love!

And I will be guilty,
That I admit.

I have been taught,
By the best of teachers!

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You Have No Idea

You have no idea how much I love you
What I would do for your natural touch
And you have no idea just how I'd hold you
When I am woken from a dream, something bad had happened to us
But I would talk my mouth off
If I thought, oh yes, baby
It would glue you forever to me
And I've worn out my pride
And I've torn at the sky
And I've beaten at the devil
With one heathenist sigh
And I'd never let anyone harm you while I'm alive
I'd never let anyone harm you while I'm alive
You have no idea how much it moves me
Just staring deeply into your green eyes
And you have no idea just how completely I adore you
You would be so surprised
But I would talk my mouth off
If I thought, oh yes, baby
It would glue you forever to me
And I've worn out my pride
And I've torn at the sky
And I've beaten at the devil
With one heathenist sigh
And I'd never let anyone harm you while I'm alive
I'd never let anyone harm you while I'm alive
I'd never let anyone harm you while I'm alive

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So when I made some money, I didn't have any idea how one handled such a situation because no one in our family ever had any money.

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Franz Werfel

I'm Still Just a Child

O Lord, tear me to pieces.
I'm still just a child.
And dare to sing
And call upon you
And tell you about things:
We are.

I open my mouth
Before you unleash your agonies upon me.
I have my health
And have no idea how old men rust away,
I've never braced myself against the posts
The way women do for hours.

I never push myself through the tired night
Like truly august droshky nags
That long escaped their background,
(Amid that enchanting, dashing sound
Of lady's footsteps and all, something laughs) .
I never pushed myself like hacks trotting on ad infinitum.

I was never the sailor when the oil's extinguished,
When the water rushing in sneers at the sun,
When the distress shot thunders,
When the rocket convulses upward.
I never dropped myself, to make it up to you,
On my knees, Lord, with a last world prayer.

I was never a child crushed in the fabric
Of this miserable time, a little arm all bandaged.
I have never starved inside the asylum,
Don't know how mothers stitch the eyes,
All of you, those who die, I don't know how you die!

But You, Lord, came down for me too.
And you found the thousandfold torments,
You delivered in every woman,
You died in the shit, in every piece of paper,
You were mistreated in every circus seal,
And you were some cavalier to a whore.

Lord, tear me to pieces.
Why this dull, miserable delicacy?
I'm not worth what flowed from your wounds.
Bless me with mortifications, prick after prick.
I want the death of the whole world included.
Lord, tear me to pieces.

Until I'm dead in every shred first,
Worked to death in every dog, every horse,
And dying of thirst, a soldier in the desert,
Until, poor sinner I, painfully tasted the sacrament on my
tongue,
Till I'm this eaten body stretched out on a bitter bed,
Taking the form that I mocked, courted.

And only when I'm scattered to the wind,
Plunge from each death, from each life,
Then, Lord, torch me in the thorns.
I'm your child.
Then, Word, sizzle skyward, that I can tell I need,
Burn inconsumable through the universe: We are! !

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Hate is Such a Strong Word

I hate my life.

I hate that we have to eat whatever my parents want

Everyday

Even though I usually don't like it

They don't care

I hate that I don't live up to the standards set by my brother

And parents

I hate that I'm the stupidest one in my family

And they tell me

I hate that I'm not pretty.

I hate that I am fat.

I hate that people try to tell me that I am pretty

And that I'm thin

I'm not

They won't get over it

I hate that I can't get over little things.

I hate that boys never like me.

None have

I think they're really sweet sometimes

But they all just like my friends.

I hate that all of my friends are pretty,

And nice,

And smart.

And it makes me feel really subpar.

Even though they have no idea how much it hurts.

I hate that my friends get all the attention.

I hate that I'm insecure.

I hate that I have had an eating disorder.

I hate that I'm depressed.

I hate that I am too embarrassed

So I don't go see a nutritionist

Doctor said so.

I hate that I can't cry.

I hate that I blow things out of proportion.

I hate that I am such a drama queen.

I hate that everyone is better at things than I am-

Singing.

School.

I hate that I still have glasses.

I hate that I am so uncomfortable in my own skin

And am scared to let people see the real me.

I hate that I hate so many things.

I hate that people think no one cares-

When for me they really don't.

I hate that I have absolutely zero confidence in myself.

I hate that I've thought about committing suicide.

And that I'm such a teenage cliché.

I hate that my grandfather is dead

It's not his fault he died so near a national holiday

And no one seems to notice how much it is affecting me.

I hate that my family is always stressed out.

I hate that if my parents read this

They probably would pretend to care

Then would go and complain about how horrible I am

And how I take everything for granted.

I hate that everyone else in my family can seem happy.

I hate that I am a selfish spoiled bitch

Because I don't try to be

I hate that I don't know what to do anymore.

I hate that I'm so confused.

I hate that I hate my life.

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You Have No Idea What You Are Up Against

You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!

It hears and listens to all of the nonsense.
With those professions of devotion...
From an emptiness,
Faithfully dismissed.
As soon as the ritual...
Has satisfied a mind,
Limited in consciousness.

You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!

In a belief whatever 'It' is...
Can be overwhelmed by flattery.
With wishes the 'act' delivers,
Something that can be 'shown'
How much you known 'It'!
And 'It' has chosen you...
To make 'Its' presence known!
Whether you 'own' or lease,
Your chariot from your sheltered crevice.

You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
And this 'It' sees.

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I Have An Idea

Your campaign to ease your pain,
By the chopping off your nose...
Just may work.
Since those blinders you have on your eyes,
And the covering of your ears...
Has not prevented the truth to appear,
At your door.

And you still honestly believe,
The ignoring of those who speak from observation...
Will actually decrease your burdens?
I have an idea.
Why don't you clean your mirrors,
First.

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Regardless of how It Is Perceived

There is a right time for some.
And a wrong time for others,
For 'some' things to be done...
Kept defined in minds pressured,
Unable to unwind.

And there seems never a time,
We determine to keep...
Nourished with a flourishing,
All the time.
With a manifesting of happiness.

Regardless of how time is perceived,
As a limited fit...
To adjust to a scheduling done to it.
Wouldn't it be wonderful,
If you and not time became the benefactor of life?

And it came looking to find you.
And you were too busy to look for it.
Or cared if it was found.

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How Foolish

You weren't there when my pains were inflicted.
That is why you believe the pain I receive from you,
Should have some special meaning!
Something that is going to affect my stride.
OR the pride I carry!
Perhaps my dignity and self confidence,
Is falsified?
Is that what you're thinking?
You have no idea how foolish your actions are.
Or the steps of the depths of my recovery!
You think my life lived has been without heartbreak,
And blood shed?
I hope you don't think I stay at home baking cookies?
Even though,
I must say...
I do enjoy cooking!
When I say, 'I am blessed! '
Trust me...
I AM blessed!

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You Removed Yourself From My Agenda

Whatever it is you wish to give to me,
At this late hour...
Of my perceived need.
I don't want.
You keep it.

What you once had,
I hungered.
And that time has passed.
Along with you as a priority.
You removed yourself from my agenda.
Remember?

You unlocked my heart...
Throwing away the key.
You have no idea how glad I am,
I did not make any copies...
For your repeat.

Whatever it is you wish to give to me,
At this late hour...
Of my perceived need.
I don't want.
You keep it.

I have made some renovations.
And the first thing I replaced...
Was your constant face in my mind!
The second thing done took a little longer.
I learned to strengthen my own.

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How Much To Me That Is Meant

Where would I be...
If you were not near to remind me,
I am loved.
And I know that to be true,
When together I am with you.

Where would I be...
If no one was there to listen,
Even sometimes to disagree.
And I display weakness born from insecurities.
And there you are with encouragement!
You have no idea how much to me that is meant.

I have those days that come to gnaw on my strength.
Those days that come to drain my good intentions.
I sometimes betray the attention I am given...
In selfish ways that stay not to go away.
Only to awaken to feel blessed and grateful.

Where would I be...
If you were not near to remind me,
I am loved.
And I know that to be true,
When together I am with you.

Where would I be...
If no one was there to listen,
Even sometimes to disagree.
And I display weakness born from insecurities.
And there you are with encouragement!
You have no idea how much to me that is meant.

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Elia Kazan

You have no idea how fragile an actor's self-worth is.

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You have no idea how expensive it is to look this cheap.

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If you write songs you have an idea how they're going to sound.

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Most Europeans have no idea how wild life can be in north America.

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Ice T

So from an actor's perspective, you really have no idea how you're acting.

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Sandra Bullock

After a while, you have no idea how old you are because you've lied so many times.

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Engineers are all basically high-functioning autistics who have no idea how normal people do stuff.

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Most people have no idea how to politely answer a phone. The English do, and it's been their only major business advantage for the past two centuries.

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