jueves, 16 de febrero de 2012

the writer.

I wake up , and my head starts to design a plan , like a computer searching for a file , i start narrating everything as if it was some kind of book that the universe reads to itself . To a person like me , memories are like keys that may unlock feelings. Like when we remember a happy day , we can't help smiling , or our first kiss , we can't help blushing. As the day goes by i think i re-live , more then 12 memories per day , one great detail about me , is that if you ever lie to me , you will lose me , you will .. and by the time you miss me i'll be gone , i'm a hard person to understand , most of my words are on top of others like an endless cycle , i'm terrified of even thinking someone could learn my way of speaking or expressing , because if that happened that person would know every little twisted detail about me , so i plan on keeping it , my little secret . Maybe i love you means , i want somebody to hug , or it can mean i want to know you better , it even can mean this is your chance to show me we can be something , but i guess , it's just a riddle you might need to figure out , as life.
silence , aspirins , rough sex , alcohol. that might be the cure of my pain , might.

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