it's all coming back to me

totul (f*ck! re)incepe cu un "help needed: am pierdut autobuzul si trebuie sa ajung in jumatate de ora pe colina. if I don't get there in time, I'm a dead person which means you'll never ever get to see my mauve converse sneakers"

si te roaga sa ramai sa-i asculti discursul, ca doar "te-ai ridicat deja din pat, nu mai fi atat de antisociala" and so you stay because she promised that you won't die if you listen to some unfriendly (I'd add: frustrated, cranky, gross-minded, macho, perky, bossy) guys talking about how crappy our educational system is.

and then it's her turn to speak and you unwillingly stop listening to what she pleads for or against, and start paying more attention to her moves, trying to find something that betrays her bustle. but you can scarcely notice any sign. and right then, in the middle of her speech, you realize that she's still there, in your heart, untouched by all the (so called + real, let's say) lovers who've been coming after her. you know that's not the right thing to feel, but you just can't help it.

it's as though all gods love me and hate me at the same time.

another day, same drama

I hate it when I see you like this, unable to stand up and scream. And you don't try to make it less painful. You're not making it bearable because you simply can't bear it. But who am I to judge or argue about taking the best decision out of all the possibilities when I myself can't?

Living is not as easy as siting on a fence and waiting for the wind to whistle a happy song. Living is all the shitty stuff we've been doing. And just when you think it's over, there comes another one.