Bamafedimatiarjucatopist.
For the love of whatever it's worth, don't treat me like I'm meant to.The feisty days are over now. We've all grown so much older and wiser it hurts to take a look back at what our image of reality used to look like. Those things we yearned for, will they ever be the same again? Why do our dreams change all the time, getting less eccentric and more reasonable within just weeks or months? Why do our loved ones turn into the pivot of our lives? Why do we have to realise we're just so small and meaningless when there's still people to count on us? How does our youth trick us into thinking of physical pleasures as the only way out - and then again, why do we not scrutinise? The series of mistakes never to be undone, the insignificant hours wasted in the sun, or in the big, yellow light that looked not a whit like it, though it was so easy to pretend... Oh blissful widow that you were, why do you loathe yourself like that? And where is the one, supposed to make you smile?
For the love of whatever it's worth, don't treat me like I'm meant to.The feisty days are over now. We've all grown so much older and wiser it hurts to take a look back at what our image of reality used to look like. Those things we yearned for, will they ever be the same again? Why do our dreams change all the time, getting less eccentric and more reasonable within just weeks or months? Why do our loved ones turn into the pivot of our lives? Why do we have to realise we're just so small and meaningless when there's still people to count on us? How does our youth trick us into thinking of physical pleasures as the only way out - and then again, why do we not scrutinise? The series of mistakes never to be undone, the insignificant hours wasted in the sun, or in the big, yellow light that looked not a whit like it, though it was so easy to pretend... Oh blissful widow that you were, why do you loathe yourself like that? And where is the one, supposed to make you smile?