Te uiti la ei si toti sunt la fel:adormiti,nemultumiti , nesatisfacuti , nesatui.Si nici-unul dintre ei nu mai crede.S-au plictisit. Iar printre ei mai trece cate unul zambind.Cate unul care spera.Cate un nebun.Si toti il privesc amuzati si enervati.Indignati.
Si ce daca sunt nebuna?!Daca asa m-a facut mama....mai labila , mai fragila , mai frivola , mai copil speriat de copilarie....

Although , as a child ,one of my biggest dreams was actually to grow up , now , as I'm finding myself on the edge of leaving childhood , I freak out.It's not that I don't want to grow up....It's just that ....that I don't want to grow up.I'm scared.Really scared.It took me a lot of time to understand how to be a hassled teenager and it took so much energy out of me to actually become that teen,that now, when I finally can get away from this fake me ...I just don't know how to be me anymore. I don't know who else I could be ,but that hassled teen.I don't know how to act , how to speak , how to look , how to dress , how to think......I'm lost....It's as if I've dressed this shirt that didn't fit me at first ,but now,since I've gained weight , I can't take it off anymore.It's stuck.....and it fits me to well to just cut myself loose, now....

Ever noticed just how this two words match together
EDIT<----->DIET
???

As if when you're on a diet , you're actually doing nothing more than just editing yourself...

For my blonde-haired girlfriend

Remember how in a previous post I was mentioning a confused she.Well , in the meanwhile , she decided to take her chances and go with the flow . Furthermore,at the moment , she is gambling. And at the same time,wondering if she's gonna win or not.From where I stand,yet,I believe she finds herself in a win-win situation.And the outcome,after all,only depends on how she is going to manage things , them , life itself.

Nu din rusine nu spui celorlalti ce anume te doare.Ci doar pentru ca nu are rost.Oricum nu ii doare pe ei ci doar pe tine.Durerea se naste in tine si moare in tine.Tu esti calusul ei , cusca ei,cufarul ei.Iar apoi ei se mira ca un copil aici , un altul acolo s-au sinucis...Privesc goi catre asfalt si clatina din cap si cersesc mila pentru ca nu pot intelege.Dar durerea ta e doar a ta si se aduna si te umple si te macina, te sfarama....Si trebuie sa fie asa , pentru ca daca ai impartasi-o,ai pierde si acea ultima farama de control.Durerea incatusata de tine , este controlata de tine , este a ta .In momentul in care rabufneste , ea a preluat deja controlul...ea a fost mai puternica decat tine , ea a invins in tot circul acesta meschin,numit,ironic, ViAtA.

Tinerii de azi nu mai stiu sa asculte muzica din ei. Nu ma intelegeti gresit:ii ador pe copiii aceia-ele , in blugi bleumarin largi , tricouri negre , esarfe in dungi in culori tipatoare , tunse scurt ,asimetric sau cu parul foarte foarte lung iar ei ,cu tricouri noncomformiste , in dungi sau cu mesaje de genul "Zero or die"(anita , deci nu incepe sa comentezi doar pentru ca ti-ai dat seama despre cine vorbesc , stii doar ca iubim amndoua tricourile acelea)Revenind.Vorbeam,deci ,de pustii rebeli , cu castile iPodului/MP3playerului atarnate peste tricou(ce vremuri cu walkman sau cdplayer :))))))s-au dus....)si care merg pe strada ,desprinsi de lumea acesta , din care ei oricum nu mai faceau parte de nici-ei-nu-mai-stiu-cand, inchisi in lumea lor imateriala , care in mod derutant , capata contururi , devine palpabila tocmai printr-un element imaterial al vietii ,muzica.

Inchei,

porcelaindoll.