Stau in mijlocul noptii si imi plang de mila. Cat de mult am decazut. Cat de josnic sunt. Nu imi vine inca sa cred ca eu mai sufar de pe urma ta. Ceea ce trebuia sa se termine de atata timp se prelungeste cu fiecare zi ce trece.
In tot timpul pe care eu il pierd, tu faci lucruri marete. Tu te bucuri de viata. Tu reusesti sa iti duci viata la un alt nivel. Tu treci peste. Deja ai trecut peste.
Eu? Eu sunt exact cum m-ai lasat ultima oara. Distrus. Nu imi pot imagina ce am facut in viata mea. Nu simt ca am mai realizat ceva important. Cu toate acestea, fiecare zi e o speranta ce stiu ca se consuma in cateva ore. E otrava pentru sufletul meu. E o peticire continua. E o lupta continua cu demonii mei. Si in fiecare zi pierd teren. In fiecare zi simt ca sunt mai aproape de momentul in care totul va lua sfarsit. Nu pot decat sa ma bucur, sa sper ca la un punct voi scapa de tot.
Ma bucur sa vad ca iti traiesti viata si pentru acest lucru te invidiez. Sunt gelos ca nu mai reprezint nimic pentru tine, cand pentru mine reprezinti aproape tot. Dar asta ne diferenteaza. Naivitatea mea ma impinge spre extreme, spre zone obscure.
Felicitari pentru viata ta perfecta. Eu nu am asa ceva. Eu nu am viata.
People say that history is like fashion, every time it repeats itself, but at a much greater scale. People also say that we feed our future from our memories. Well... At least I would like them to say this.
I have found myself getting back to the things I took for granted for a long time. Whether are old habits or old things, they still have a significance for me. And as much as I tried to push them away in an attempt to develop my own persona, it actually destroyed me. Funny how a small piece of plastic can have such a great power over one's life. And I am not talking about everyone's favorite thing today, the credit card.
Since my teen years, I managed to somehow express myself through the songs that I listen to. Why, do you ask? Simple. Because I found it hard to emotionally open in front of people and even harder to have my thoughts fly away in the form of sounds. Even though I can be vocal at times, I mostly prefer to keep my thoughts to myself.
But I abandoned this method in favor to proper speech. It made me feel different and not in the way in which a painter feels when he mistakenly meets his muse. Rather in the way in which a child feels when he is forced to choose between spending his summer playing alongside his childhood friends and going to summer camp in an unknown place.
In between my darkest memories and my sinister thoughts, a sparkle lit a corner, never dimming its light and never losing hope that one day or for one moment it will be ale to shine brighter than the sun. And that moment is now. And all through the help of music.
It's funny how a few verses can make your day seem better. And it's funnier how, on the very first song notes, you suddenly let that sparkle loose. And you remember who you really are. And you forget about every-day's problems. And the tears that run across your face are actually your inside childhood memories playing on your skin like children playing in the field on an August summer afternoon.
It feels divine, and all because of music. So, remember that, when you least expect it, a song can make you remember why your life has been worth living.
