rebellion.

Miniature disasters and minor catastrophes
Bring me to my knees
Well I must be my own master
Or a miniature disaster will be
It will be the death of me

moment.

its amazing how the past doesnt let you move on. you seem to live the moment but what you actually do is tryin to avoid your past, or takin lessons from it. i dont support the idea that a persons past must be all about regrets and bad memories, but the thing is you never remember the good stuff. always wondering what would have been or how you should of acted back then is a big torture.
here i am swimming around my emotions, regrets, could of beens of the first century i lived in. recently i cannot help myself and listen to all this music, watch all these old shows i used to watch and look back to my teenage years.
what i learned is, the more i get attached to my history, the more i attract it. the things which seem to be the most impossible tend to realize and i bump up to these people who meant a lot to me.
it is all about change and moving on. but i should admit, i couldnt move on slightly as much as i would like to.
i am still seeing all those dreams i used to see, only with different quotes and characters in them. and when i try to face it i realise that even they are the same with different outfits. i know it doesnt makes any sense complaining about it cause it kinda feels okay and alive.

new.

" arrested development?
hmm, not so much. "


they just met online, trying to learn about each other by asking random questions in a silly way. they both were curious and willing to wait to see how things will sort out. thinking there are so many things they "like" in common one of them suddenly realised that the least expected things reveal last.




" scrubs?
not so much, not anymore. "

ability.

the thing about liberty is that you cannot have it right away.
you have to fight for it.

voir.

there is an opposite to déja vu. they call it jamais vu.
it's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again,
but each time is the first. everybody is always a stranger. nothing is
ever familiar.

"freedom" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

saya.

" they can't touch me
run so fast they can't even catch me "

they were running after him. all he could think about was the paper plane he made before the chasing begun. while his little paper plane was being crushed under the feet of a stranger, he felt something on his shoulder and turned his back to check it.

" dogs run, they start to follow me
don't worry your paper planes are gonna save me. "

fatima.

Beautiful Fatima Spar singing indescribable bosa noga.

safe.

" so is it why you're locking your door, to avoid me?

   i am just scared of vampires, that's all.                            "

he bended over saying that. he was staring at the red paint which was supposed to be his blood. vampire leaned on his neck and bit his neck for the second time, promising that he will bleed actual blood this time. 

" it is okay now, 

   you don't need to lock your room again.

   i am done .                                                                   "

                     

 

  

inspiré par: "quartier de la madeleine" dans "paris je t'aime".