They said she didn't know how to love

Mi s-a spus ca nu stiu sa iubesc si probabil ca e adevarat, ei stiu mai bine. Si totusi, parca nu e asa. Am realizat ca nu mai cred in iubire, ca pe masura ce timpul trece iubesc tot mai putin si mai putin, plapand... estompat, asemeni primaverii ce trebuie sa vina la timp si mereu intarzie. Ma decalez, si sfarsesc de fapt altundeva, pe un alt taram. Un taram in care iubirea mea este eterna, economica, rezistenta, falnica, impunatoare si demna. Toate amintirile sunt acolo, toate gesturile pe care nu le-am trait la o anumita intensitate, raman, dainuiesc chiar si dupa ce eu ma sting din sufletele voastre. Si da, gresesc...sunt om si ma agat de perfectiune, de dorinta de a fi mai buna si sfarsesc prin a distruge tot ce ating. Nu e un lucru voit, dar asta nu conteaza, nu? Da, este o linie trasata in jurul meu care tine oamenii la distanta, pe cei normali...Pe cei mai viteji, care din cand in cand incearca sa o treaca, ii seaca. Sunt imposibil de iubit, sunt doar "fuel" o chestie care arde intens, scap printre degete, existenta mea ii taie sau poate ca pur si simplu fac ceea ce fac mereu- cand ma simt bine, ma proptesc pe un perete cu spatele apasand intrerupatorul....
Sau poate ca am uitat sa ma bucur de lucrurile mici, poate ca nu mai gasesc confort in iubire, poate ca sunt oarba, poate vreau mai mult... Candva, erau lucruri in viata mea care ma ridicau si zburam in fiecare zi, acum nici macar nu mai am curajul sa-mi privesc aripile, le-am sfartecat si eu in nenumerate randuri, la fel ca toti ceilalti. Erau dimineti in care eram somnoroasa, vroiam sa dorm mai departe, radeam cand incerca mama sa ma trezeasca, eram lenesa, dar acum nici macar somnul nu-si mai face efectul, nici macar nu mai lupt sa dorm mai mult... Ci execut aceleasi miscari pe care mi le-am programat, over and over again si nu exista o conditie care sa ma scoata din aceasta rutina, nu exista o salvare....
Poate ca de fapt nu ne salveaza nimeni, poate ca suferim precum cainii in noapte, indeajuns incat sa realizam ca trebuie sa ne lingem singur ranile. Da, nu exista nimeni acolo care sa ma salveze, poate ca nu merit, sau... poate ca nu ma aude nimeni...
Nici macar nu exista o persoana care sa citeasca ce scriu acum, e doar un alt monolog cu mine in noapte, incercand sa ma aduc inapoi la viata din moarte clinica...

Fragments of imagination

Wrap surgical knots around my brain
Kill my urge to dream, choke my passion to the ground
Delay my motionless escape to this land I've built inside a frame.
For I have lost the will to live, I'd die in your arms without a sound.

Her mind is a book I never want to finish

Chase my dreams and kill them slowly
Watching her move with her everlasting grace
In her embrace I find myself lonely
She's broken, torn, mutilated her loving face
Spells scars that deep have been inside for ages
Expecting the return of soothing days
I will forever be trapped in her ripped pages...

Damage

It's been a while since I last felt so lost, so hopeless, insignificant, useless and pathetic but part of being human is getting to this point where you realize you've been stripped all of positive emotions. You find yourself on the ground, staring at their tall figures, realizing they've been climbing on top of you all this time, feeding off you, dreaming your dreams, devouring your light, leaving you motionless and paralyzed. But this doesn't change your demeanor, you're still there, unchanged, barely alive. You only know it's too late when you realize there's nothing in this world that you'd want, nothing that would make you stay, nothing besides morals and respect, but what are those when in fact you're dead inside?

Usually I'm the one that drives myself into this state, but this time is different. This time I got consumed, I lost too much fuel, been depleted...
It may sound silly, but to those who played Mass Effect 2, this reference may not sound odd at all. I wish I died, crossing space and getting reconstructed afterwards in order to start again...The only thing I can think about right now is that scene...Shepherd getting everyone to safety, saving everyone and dying during the process, drifting into space, suffocating, alone, scared, desperate....

Probably I'm lame for posting this, but actually I don't care anymore, struggled too much to make things perfect, tried far too long to make the right choices but people will always drag you down regardless of their reasons...

Another reason why I posted this is because I thought it has been a while since I last indulged myself into these kind of activities and I used to love writing.

[link] -- "Leaving Earth..."