domingo, 8 de fevereiro de 2015

Winter and Summer as a metaphor.

Grab all the chains and leave. Maybe I'll take them with me, maybe I won't. That's not as easy as it seems. I dazzle myself stating that when winter ends, things will get better. But time is passing by and I still feel chained even if the gates are wide open. It's freezing outside. In the warm weather: assimilate new people, new places, new minds and new me's. Time is short and I'm wasting it with lost battles against things that doesn't make me feel better. But I kinda feel like it. I think so. Nothing or no one is judged or considered guilty. I judge me, I blame me, I punish me. And I only lack the release. I like to be by myself, but I hate to be the only soldier in this war. I need a battalion. And I hope that after winter the lost battles, the dead bodies, the useless minds and the defeated ones will be replaced. There will be a victorious war, the bodies will rise from the dust like the phoenix, the minds will be renewed and I will not anymore be a loser. I'll be the winner. Summertime.


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