roula

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Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life..."Why can't you be decent to people?" he asked "Fear," I said...Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth... The more sensitive you are, the more certain you are to be brutalized, develop scabs, never evolve. Never allow yourself to feel anything, because you always feel TOO MUCH....does the body rule the mind or does the mind rule the body? i dunno...I accustomed myself to simple hallucination...i talk to god but the sky is empty...So it seems All our life is dreams A poem in the head Of a poet that's dead... Mother, I tried, please believe me I'm doing the best that I can I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through I'm ashamed of the person I am... the only unbearable thing; nothing is unbearable...I had so many years of being so very proper. I had good-girl claustrophobia...these sunless afternoons i can't find myself... At such times I felt something was drawing me away, and I kept fancying that if I walked straight on, far, far away and reached that line where the sky and earth meet, there I should find the key to the mystery, there I should see a new life a thousand times richer and more turbulent than ours... i love to live, i can only say, i love to be liked, i dont always love to live, i dont know what i want, if i could wish for something, i would be unsure of what to wish for, a good or a bad time, if i could wish for something, i would like to be just a little happy, because if i were too happy, i would be homesick for sadness, if i could wish for something....Yes, some lives were made to be wasted... In time of peace the warrior turns against himself... The tragedy of it is that nobody sees the look of desperation on my face. Thousand and thousands of us, and we're passing each other without a look of recognition...