Broken dreams

Sometimes when I’m walking among youngsters, I feel like my entire life has passed me by without looking at me. Then I realize how much I envy these kids. At the end of the day, it’s not them.

The other day I was flashbacking. I still care about some people from ten years ago. I wonder who they are now and where they are, but I wouldn’t want to meet them again. Perhaps I’m saying this out of spite. If the past is nothing but undigested food, then it’s not worth hurting over it. Throw up and have it done with. Sometimes I wish I was able to forget every single person that I have met. Most of them have set roots in my mind to ultimately make me feel guilty for what I might have said and done.

I don’t like it when people expect too much from me. I know when it’s time to give. I have to make sure that you deserve it.

I like someone, but I don’t have the heart to tell him. It’s not a girl’s job to do that anyway. Whenever I like someone, I imagine us being together. I need to get the impression of what the relationship would be like. In such cases, my imagination is Schopenhauerian. This fucking prick stops me from asking someone out. But let’s be realistic. This boy would complicate my plans and my weekly schedule. I would neglect him, let him down or even abandon him when he needs me the most.

Well, I can’t say really…I have no idea what my next relationship would look like and what a girlfriend I would make. Or maybe I’m just too curious and too scared at the same time. This time I will hurt the man before he gets the chance to hurt me – I keep hearing this in my head, and I don’t like it. If I hurt him and he forgives me, then he’s the one. And if he hurts me, he’s out of the game, unless you can give me ten good reasons why he should still be on the ball.

Don’t take everything I say so seriously. I’m honest for the moment. In fact, you have no idea what I would do. Perhaps I should ask him out.

You should never connect your favourite songs with certain people. If you do, the songs are cursed. Though, not always in a bad way. “Folsom Prison Blues” reminds me of Nick, and “Boulevard of broken dreams” reminds me of Matt. “Mr. Bright Side” reminds me of all the wonderful boys at the Student Union, such as Gary, Joe, Pete, Antony, etc. I can name a list of songs and tell you who they remind me of. I’m not going to, though. I will immediately look for that song and play it right away to face it and delve into my memory with that person.

Whenever I feel my heart is shallow, I like to remember all those men that I could never have or could have had. The ones that I could have had, bother me the most. It’s like you missed out big time.

There once was somebody who mistook my glass of blood with wine. The first sip wasn’t enough to realize; he still thought it was wine. By the time the glass was empty, he realized what he’d done.

I don’t want anything like that anymore. The recovery process took way too long, yet the blood transfusion was a success. But it has made me feel older, not quite wiser.

Apathy is a dangerous tool. Whenever you feel you need it, make sure you only take a small bite of it and not more. You can waste so much of your precious time if you eat the whole thing. I realized that a fruit salad digested better…

Modernism has taken on a new start since it seems to be the new era of broken dreams again. Everyone is broke and indecisive, and it’s contagious. People seem to have an elaborate image of what they want to be but lack motivation and belief. Call it millennial malaise. It’s sad to watch because I realize that I’m in the same boat. However, I surely don’t lack motivation and belief. I lack time and space, the only two things that will allow my creativity to rise again.

I suppose I shouldn’t ask him out.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.