We're tonight in a world full of thrills- it can carry me up, far above it all, to the stars then to the ground...

It felt like..:

And now it's quite like:

I want to be someone else

or I'll explode.

Floating upon the surface for the birds...

the birds...

You want me?

Fucking well come and find me,

I'll be waiting

with a gun and a pack of sandwiches

and nothing,

nothing,nothing,

nothing...

You want me?

Well come on and break the door down

You want me?

Well come on and break the door down,

I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready...

(Thank you, Radiohead)

And they were like:

But still....

***

Oh, by the way... I've turned 18 today. It doesn't feel strange, it doesn't feel anything at all actually (oh, maybe some of the melancholy I'm through the past few days). Nothing of what I expected as a child. On the contrary, I may want to go back...

Carousels twirl all around exited youth,

I do not mind at all.
Times I've betrayed,

where would we be now,

If I'd taken your hand?

Well, the years,

they pass by slow,

don't they?

I told you when I came I was a stranger

(self portrait of Toulouse Lautrec in the crowd, at the Moulin Rouge)

*

She smelled of cigarettes

and never managed to cry.
She knew
she'd never been born again
so she killed any single
aspect of herself
in order to give it a try.
She never fell in love
She could only feel the blame
the pain
and the pressure
of being lonely
while feeling precious in her search
of happiness.

She could only feel the pain
of being in love
and singing
and could only confess to strangers.
Because she knew
they would never betray
the dreams, the clouds,
the rainbows and the tears
she'd confide in them.
Because they wouldn't care.

Hurting herself
in a million ways
just to start feeling
that she mattered
to anyone willing to help
or love her fragile world,
that's what she only wished for:
feeling she mattered.
She made her expectations
out of stardust
so she could wipe them off
and her eyes
were made of
a million tiny marbles,
colliding with her fears.


At last,
who could she probably expect
to love a girl drawing birds,
using colourful glitter?