I dont think I can describe emotions. Or feelings.
Is for the forth time I rewrite this post and I hang between me feeling as an idiot, fascinated by the things are happening around me and the regret that I am only a mere witness.
A friend of mine calls my evil.
But I am as good I can be.
Down the line, at some point when I was in Ch and was feeling bitterly alone I learned that you are actually alone. You are the only one that can understand yourself and watch you course of action to be the right one. And even so, most of the times I am for myself, as you are for yourself a walking contradiction probably making mistakes and having the wrong thoughts.
Some other friends call me to sensitive.
But I am as though as I can be.
Wait, I was going somewhere with this. No I wasnt.
I probably was.
Also, down that line, I gained a cold independence were being myself was just enough and the fascination of the world was enough to accommodate me. But it seems on the long run this is not enough and that I want to be part of that world were there is no wrong or right, were there is so much hope and passion, of a paradise place that somehow smells of mint.
Once it smelled of fresh fountain water.
Once of smooth darker skin.
Once of a perfume.
Once of basement.
A friend of mine calls me utterly and irremediably unsatisfied and slightly unhappy.
But I am as happy as I can.