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.:Monday, February 14, 2005:.
Is this really really you? Cold enough for you to feel real human? Do you feel it now? Mi vida sin mi.

This is you, eyes closed, down in the rain, you never thought you'd be doing something like this. You never saw yourself as.... I don't know how you describe it, like one of those people looking up at the moon, you spend hours gazing at the waves, sunset or.... I guess you know what kind of people I'm talking about, maybe you don't.... Anyway, you kind of like being like this, fighting the cold, feeling the water thrusting through your shirt and getting to your skin.
You feel the ground growing softly beneath your feet. The smell, the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, all this that they talk about in the books that you haven't' read. This is you, who would have guessed it? You.

Why aren't you like the others? Like normal people?
carajo!!!! No body is normal, there's no such thing as normal people.

You tend to see clearly now (or at least you try to, you're still trying goddamned). You see all these borrowed lives, borrowed voices.
Mini Vanille everywhere.
You look at all these things you can't buy, now you don't wanna buy them, all the things that will still be here after you're gone. But then you realize all the things in the window display, all the models in the catalogues, all the colors, all the special offers, all the recipes from Martha Stewart, all the piles of greasy food, they are just there trying to keep us away from dead, but it doesn't work.

It's cold in the supermarket and you like that. People always read the labels of their favorite brands really really carefully just to see how many chemicals they have, and then they just put them in their car as if they said: "sure, it's bad, it's bad for my family but we like it". No body thinks about death in the supermakets.

You don't know who or what are you praying to.... You just pray.

You wake up, and you return to your selfishness. The night is way to short, you hear a cheap rapper making an appearance on the radio and it disgusts you. You feel uncomfortable.
The weather is not your favorite flavor, you almost give if it's not for him, in that blue jacket, with that kindly was of speaking...

Plastic roses, gay couples in the hall, fake Belgian chocolates. "And you can send me dead flowers every morningSend me dead flowers by the mailSend me dead flowers to my weddingAnd I won’t forget to put roses on your grave..."
Unplugged... Disconnection. Turbulence.
got dumped exactly a year ago... Lovely. "Urn With Dead Flowers In A Drained Pool"
Another day for hallmark to make money, and, for those that don't have a special someone, to feel like a complete waste of space.

For you fellows who actually enjoy days like this... I hope you have the time of your life. This is for you. Enjoy it:

Now listening: I Will Buy You A New Life (Everclear)- Why Does It Always Rain On Me (Coldplay)- Wax and Wane (Cocteau Twins)*- Baby Can I Hold You (Tracy Chapman)- Bone (Soft Machine)- This Mess We're In (Radiohead ft. PJ Harvey) Best Served with: could we have more spaghetti? Bognolesa?

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:28 PM:.