Always

You will always be my biggest 'what if'.

My fantasy

I had a fantasy about tomorrow. I imagined you kissing my fingers, my forehead, smiling at me with that beautiful mouth, looking at me in a way that would make me feel invincible. I imagined us as something beautiful, as something that was meant to be. I was so hopeful. But instead, I will sit silently beside you, and the room will be faint of feelings. The two hours will pass and I'll pack my thing as you pack yours. We'll walk out without glances, probably even without regrets, and walk our separate ways. You'll live your life, and I'll live mine. I'll take the metro to the station, and act as happy as I can, all the while imagining what it would feel like if you were with me. I wish that fantasy came true, I wish we hadn't lost it.

Painfully aware

I avoid going home because at home I feel lonely. I sit in the library instead, the silence, the sound of typing, the strangers around me, it makes me feel better. I don't feel so alone. Home has become a dangerous place, full of temptations and potential screw-ups. I never thought I'd reach the day when home would feel like a threat.

Paris is as beautiful as always. I love stopping myself from whatever I'm doing sometimes and making myself remember that. I never want to cease my love affair with Paris, I never want to forget just how lucky I am to be here. I want to be painfully aware of everything.

On a less poetic note, I think it's time to invest in a new laptop. As much as I love mine, it's pretty broken right now, and I'm just not sure on whether it's really worth to fix it. So I'm contemplating on buying a macbook air. Decision decisions...  But I do need a computer I can carry around with me, especially with exams coming up. If only money wasn't such an issue all the time though.

Beautiful people

Beautiful people do not just happen.

Elizabeth Kubler Ross 

11/11/11

I drive through the night city and I realize just how screwed up I let everything get. I met a friend today, the one person in this foreign city who knows me for more than just a few months. 15 years is how far back we go. I sat around in his apartment and realized just how tired I am. Sadness always sneaks up on me, I never expect it. It can come at any given moment, it just bursts in and suddenly everything is dark. I felt like crying out loud that I need help. That I just need someone to tell me that I don't have to be strong all the time. That they will take care of me, and I can sleep in peace just for one night. But I've always had to be strong. The past five years I spent in foreign cities. Two in each, always starting over, always learning more about strength. Never allowing myself to give up, even for a little while. I'm tired and I need help. But there's no one to reach out to. Because I've been taught to be strong, and strength is the ultimate gift.
I look at my hands and they reveal the true story. That I haven't been strong at all, that I've fallen back into the same routine. They reveal too much, the scars on my hands. They are the whole story.
I made a wish at 11:11, my idea of beauty, and my idea of love.
Tomorrow the sun will rise again, tomorrow I'll have to pretend all over again.

Being twenty

To tell you the truth I haven't doing that well at all lately. My whole world is falling apart and I have no energy to do anything but watch. This whole 'being twenty' thing isn't working out as well as I thought.