I miss being young…I mean really young.
That age when it was okay to spill a glass of milk on the dinner table. The age when I didn’t have the slightest clue of when a girl was into me, even though everything was way more obvious then. The age when highscores in various videogames were more important than girls.
Being responsible relly sucks. I feel cheated. Everything is so serious. People close to me are dying. Everything is no longer possible.
It would be easier to just leave everything behind. I think you’re supposed to do that. Just say Sayonara, Arrivaderci or Au revoir. It’s time to find a new home, and become the person you really are. It’s so hard to disappoint everyone close to you, and you’re very likely to do just that by becoming the one you are.
Right now I’m a mixture of what people expect me to be. Yeah, sure, I don’t disappoint many people but I should really buy myself some balls / cojonas and become the one I really want to be, because this is going to kill me in the end.
I can’t think of a single species that keep in touch with the ones they knew in their youth when I think of wildlife and nature. They just wake up one day and realize that home isn’t home anymore, it’s elsewhere.
I probably sound really miserable, but I’m not quite that puppet with a smiling face operated by the ones with expectations on me. I’m merely talking to myself and scaring myself by shouting out words that I’ve been too afraid to speak…all this because of that bloody Mr.Sandman that fail to show up at my apartment. If you see him, please attach some strings to him and give them to me. Let’s see how he likes me as his puppeteer.
There it is ladies and gentlemen, I managed to get the word puppeteer into my blog. It should be safe to drill through the earth now, because I think hell already froze over.
Good night! Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs fight, leave that to the people in Gaza.
leaving
