To write tears.

I dont even know what I am going to write about. Or what I am supposed to be writing about.
Feel confused, a little bit like a traitor and a coward too. Oh, what strange qualities! Notions of which stop you right there, in the air, in full speed, flying forward in search of your destiny, and a disappointment with yourself startles you like a thunder from a cloudless sky, so much that suddenly you just stop. There in the middle of all the air.

Always saying what I think, think what I believe and do things that are right.
And there it is, am I. Trying to escape what...confrontation, hurting people by saying what is close to truth but not as much as to resemble truth to be found out and it is that that hurts more, for it leaves people confused and wondering and that hurts longer. How I hate that! For it hurts me even more. And still I do it.
In fear?? Of what???!!!! What a coward.
Maybe I shall write about the tears of a traitor and a coward??

Me that always fights for the choice of a more difficult road to take for it is so much more worth it when you get to the end of it, and indeed so much more interesting and vitilising getting there. And here I choose to hide behind words.
Feel sick!

And then there's me living in the past of few charming moments and my world crumbles to bits in the minute of awakening from hopes that kept me alive and going in this unreal existence of artificial world.
So maybe I shall be writing about the tears of my waiting heart. Blind and wandering.

To my surprise living this existence is not a torture as I was so worried about. Doing what I love loving what I am doing. Suddely I dont want to be anywhere else. I only want to be with someone. So far away. And my heart knows the real but lives unreal. And cries. Sometimes.

What a dream.