she fought...Nothing is as bothering as the alarm clock on a monday morning after a day off...and especially if it's a monday you wish you never have to go through...if it was up to her to decide, it would be just another normal day like the rest of her monotonous days she got addicted to...but she was sure he had other plans...she was sure he will be preparing some things to try to make her remember him, to make himself heard once again...he did send her an sms yesterday on the occasion of their first phone call, and she was sure he was going to do some other grotesque thing for their nine months anniversary...Why can't some people let go? Why can't they understand that once something is over, it is over and there's no looking back?she got out of bed, went to the toilet, took her shower, stood naked and wet in front of the mirror, looked at her naked skin and started brushing her teeth while thinking...Will he send me roses with a letter attached? no, he did that already...Will he send wo
HE thought...He slept all day and at around 7:00 PM woke up on a friend's SMS telling him: Mwaaaa, Smile...The SMS made him smile for an instant...he felt like replying by something like: Would me smiling bring back my heart's desire in my arms...then he decided not to...he put the mobile aside...stood up...and looked at himself in the mirror...He had gained weight...He had black eyes...empty looks...He barely recognized himself...He looked like a shadow of the him he used to know...an over stretched shadow...He looked at his reflection in the mirror...looked at his mobile lying on the table next to the bed...felt like grabbing it and sending an "I miss you" SMS...felt like calling that number he knows by heart...that number he dialed so many times every day and hung up before it even rang...but he decided not to...He was only missing, because he was allowing himself to miss...he could change it...he could stop it, if he wanted to...he wasn't addicted...it just needs a good w
Smile and Wave-Stop and StareI talk when my feelings are ripe...I am no more the silent type...I say exactly what I feel...and I have nothing to conceal...I'm not some salt that gets dissolvedI'm your issue still unresolved...Choke on your silence, it's your choice...I won't shut up so you'd rejoice...Look behind you, and I'll be there...you smile and wave, I'll stop and stare...and no matter how hard you'll tryI'll haunt you till the day you die...
what ifwhat if we meet by chance today?would you just turn and look away?or would you stay and have your drink,so normally without a blink???what if I keep staring at you...faking it the same way you do...what if I wear my tiny smile...then pay and leave after a while?what if, what if and more what if...feels likes I'm standing on a cliffjumping or not, I have no clue...but seriously still loving you...
Antagoniste - FrenchJe perçois le réel,Mais vis dans lillusion
Je me sens immortel,En léchant mes lésions
Je rêve de limpossible,Sur un ton réaliste
Et crains lirréversible
Sans être fataliste
Jaime ce que je veux,Mais pas ce que je vis
Je sais bien que je peux.Mais plus ce que je suis
My ever after...Different princes,on their horses,have made their appearances in so many fairy tales...One freed the princess from an ogre,the other from a monster,one from a curse,while the other from a spell...One woke an enchanted princess up from an eternal sleep,while the other from food poisoning...One climbed up a tower to the rescue,while the other wandered around with a glass slipper...One kidnapped her, rescued her from the prince charming,and taught her that external beauty is nothing but a lie...One took her out of the streets, taught her how to talk,dressed her up, taught her some manners,and fell in love with her...One took her out of a bordelle,dressed her up, then after breaking her heart,showed up at her place in a white limo and an umbrella...One kissed her in the middle of a football field in front of millions and national tv...while the other wrote and sang a romantic song for her on a plane trying to win her back...All those princes charming, and so many more,
hence...actions speak louder than words...words hurt more than steeling blades...steeling blade shine brighter than eyes...eyes turn more treacherous than spies...spies are more caring than lovers...lovers feel more fictive than fairy tales...fairy tales look more true than you...and you...are...not...not that you ever were...it seems...
grandmother WilmaGrandmother Wilma had 4 cats:the First was a schizo misery fanthe Second was a filthy Lying freakthe Third was a dirty selfish whorethe Fourth was a teeny tiny kidGrandmother Wilma bought them hats:the First liked it in a different tanthe Second did not but wore it for a weekthe Third kept screaming he wanted fourthe Fourth sold it to the highest bidGrandmother Wilma fed them rats:the First ate it, and threw up in the canthe Second did not, but found it uniquethe Third just ate it and wanted morethe Fourth, well we're not sure if he didSo Grandmother Wilma killed the spoiled bratsShe hit the First with a frying pan...She fed the Second to a lousy geek...She sent the Third to the Vietnam war...And drowned the fourth with a baby squid...