Doesnt matter how far you get, how much you reach.

Doesnt matter how long your way has been, or what kind of things you found on the journey. All of this will get spoiled if you fall in love.

Need to be under my granny long skirt… It’s too cold outside and need some warmy thing, just to feel i have somebody’s protection.. Someone.

I went walking today and while i was walking i was thinking about everything. I felt the nesecity of write down on my own mind some things which maybe could turn me into a bad person or not, it was like a cold wind that embraced me with the frozen wings while the drops of water were falling across my cheeks.

Even when i knew that what i was thinking wasn’t too healthy i continued because walking alone along the bike’s road is something i haven’t tasted by myself. It was a source of inspiration, i really needed a half-hour by myself to think what i was doing wrong and what i’ve done well. I actually found my big mistake: YOU. You were my big failure, the thing that could had been avoided.

Anyway, no time to regret, what is done is done and there is no turn back.

 Dont like being classified as a general issue. They don’t have a clue, every poet is a world and noone knows what their(ours) minds are about.

(You can’t tell they (we) write because we are not able to show feelings and instead we write it down ,like to forget about them. How you dare to say that?, so if we take that rule we can say that the writers of fiction are psychopaths that dont dare to make their literature come true and thats why they write. Get away of that world, being a poet is more than that, is the life, is the way we have to connect with the things that we can’t see.)