quarta-feira, 8 de junho de 2011

Deep


i hate.
I hate this place. i hate this town.
it carries all my fears.
and sometimes i just wan't to rest.
What made me so tired?
Are my fears so big? So mean?
I go deep. I go deep far too many times.
No coffee or child awakes me in its energy.
is it need... or just lazyness...?
What's lazyness after all?
were does it comes from to strike me over and over again?
were are my dreams?
how? how have i grown so old before being young?
Were is the life i've been promised?
were is... happiness?
was it me? to destroy it?

someone wispers. It's me, deep within my self, calling for life.
It's as if i'm in coma...
in the white snowy mist of a mountain i call my self in the wind.
My vests are red, and bloody. I've been fighting... with what? there's nothing there.
imaginary monsters?
i'm tired. i rest... i quit...
i quit??
I call for comfort. I call for love. I call me.
- I don't want to go!!!! leave me! i stay...
- come. it'll be ok. meet your future!
- i'm afraid.
- why?
- will it work?
- everything works and fails once in a while.
- ... not helping ... i'm tired let me stay.
- leave him. he's gone. The past...
- it's a part of me.
- It will be here for you to visit.
- why is it so painfull.
- you're very atached. To dependent.
- I didn't do everything o could... i have to do more.
- it's past. It's gone. Nothing you can do about it now... plenty to do in the afterlife of it!
- i don't want to be dependent...
- then... go!!!!

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