My calendar tells me it's october 2007.
I liked october 2007 once. It changed my life, that month.
I don't like it so much anymore. I hate it changed my life.
It was warm, that october.
It was raining on that day. All day. I should have understood it better. I should have noticed it better. I should have run.
I did.
But in the wrong direction.
Vihma k�est r��sta alla. Literally. The house was big. And it was gray. And it was warm inside. Perfect cover from the rain.
I don't like that house anymore.
We had a lot of fun in the morning. Semu was with us. Semu has always been there.
When I die then he can tell what killed me. I'm sure.
Better than Hercule Poirot.
It was all so carefree and easy. I enjoyed my life like all the young people. And it wasn't supposed to mean anything.
The next day it was supposed to be something you remember through a haze of vodka. And soon it would be all gone.
But it wasn't.
And now it will be.
Now, 6 months later.
And I am tired. I really am. I want to sleep. For a long time. For a lifetime.
I really am.
And people can think what they want. But it's never gonna leave.
It depends on what kind of a person you are. What kind of thoughts you have inside of you. What whirls across your mind. And how big is the percentage of people with depression in your family.
It also depends on ...your heart. And the way you have grown up. And it depends on your childhood memories. And if you like to read poems. And if you understand jokes. It depends on how intelligent you are...or on the other hand....how stupid you can be.
And nobody understands you. For real. Nobody in the world can actually understand you. Not the person who holds your hair when you throw up...or the one who lives in the room next to yours. Nor the one who cuts your steak when you are five. Or the one who pays for your coffin when you are a lot older than five (hopefully).
Sometimes I look into the other persons eyes and think: how different we all are...how very different. And you did not understand what I said. Not because I speak with my mouth full. But because you are living inside your own little bubble. And you can't get into mine, because I dont want you to. And you probably dont want it either.
I can smile and listen to your lives. But I have nothing to do with them. Nothing.
And you have nothing to do with mine. You just smile and listen.
The things I eat, they are inside my bubble. Me and my bottle of ice tea for example. Im consuming it, its mine. It understands me. I understand it too. We are equal. And we share something.
So you see, ice tea understands the way I think, a lot better then you ever will.
If there was a book on how to live. I would buy all the copies and send to everybody I know. But I myself wouldn't read it. You all can do it the right way, I want to do it my way. I want to do it my way and at the same time know that everybody else does it the right way and I will never get hurt. How egocentric. But maybe everyone would go to paradise after that, except me. I'm willing to risk it. At least for some time. So maybe I'm not so egocentric.
No, let me tell you. I am not egocentric at all. Only sometimes, but I always know when I am. I always know. And I regret. So I'm not egocentric in a normal sence.
My granny told me the other day that she had read or seen (I dont recall) how little kids were asked stuff and one kid said: When good people die, they go to Paris.
:) I liked it. I've been to Paris. Unfortunately I was alive.
No, don't get it wrong. The city is beautiful, the people are beautiful. I liked the atmosphere. I liked the streets and the bridges and the Eiffel Tower and Champs Elysee and the little shops and the gray weather.
But the feelings inside of me at that time were terrible. Please erase october.
And you can travel as much as you want. And you can meet whoever you want. And you can do all those things together. But you will never get that feeling that I had in Paris, that experience. That freedom mixed with ...god knows what. Never.
And maybe you're not supposed to get it. Maybe it was ment only for me.
Because we are all alone in the world.
Inside our bubbles.
Close the windows in my room, it gets so cold at night.
Hold me, like a child.
I will think of a better way how to live my life. It's time to change some things.
Because I am very tired. And I dont really care.
And my smile is a wall between me and you. Isn't it?
No?
It's only what you feel. It always that. It doesnt matter what I say. It's only what you think. So think good things. Think optimistic.
See, Im smiling too.
And it's ment for you, my love.
You know I love you.
Yes, you.
And you too.
And you and you
...and you too.
;)
-
Sincere & Sly
Saturday, 22 March 2008
| |
0 comments:
Post a Comment