Once I got up and started running
Reaching for the end of the world
Then I fell on my face and felt like crying
I guess the world was just too big for me
Then I felt I should go smaller
Know my city and see what followed
I got lost in the dark allies of the town
And was scared of all that was around
The truth was I was tired of it all. That’s why I felt like running. I was running from myself as I’m used to do; I’ve done it all my life. But eventually I get tired of running away, I tell myself I have to face the reality, as it is said “get up and smell the coffee”.
Gosh, so many useless things that I do! Like trying to smile when I’m sad; people can always see through my smiles, even the most cynical and convincing ones.
I’m so fed up with trying to come up with guidelines to my own life. I can’t set goals if I know I’ll never meet them, a control freak that when it comes to herself gives up on the easiest stuff, like doing what I don’t like. In my search for the deepest things in life I’m losing my mind along the way. I’m confused and confusing and it obviously shows.
I’m tired of getting attached to people that will leave like others did and hurt me on the way. I’m tired of trying to live peacefully and have people talking shit and worrying me. I’m tired of not being sure of who I am and of never feeling content with what I’m given. I’m tired of knowing I’m such a dependent creature when I feel I should be on my own. I’m tired of messing things up for others just because I can’t hold my tongue. I’m tired of longing for big cities or cornfields and always being stuck in the same place. I’m tired of feeling that my life won’t go anywhere.
I’m tired of hurting me by doing things I know I’ll always do.
I’m tired of missing, thinking, waking, running, laughing, crying, smiling, frowning, bitching, whining, loving, hating, worrying, leaving, arriving, living... But I don’t want to die because I love life too much.
I’m tired of writing.
11/12/2008
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