ab intra

i don't even know, why i'm writing in english. maybe it's the beer, maybe it's just to imagine i am someone else and just to forget reality. the reality of me.

i hate people who won't work for something. i don't mean money, oh cause that's So important.
i mean people, who won't work for something... stately, something crushing. something deep.
something that hurts you, moves, comforts, enlightens, stirs you. something that gives your smiles a meaning.
i mean that something love.
you said that this was the best time of your life.
well, i have never thrown the best time of my life to the rubbish, all crumpled up.

oh all of this irony.
the irony of me smiling, picturing you going.
the irony of me crying, seeing you going.
looking through the curtains, hiding myself and my feelings.
like i do all the time. i guess?

but when i think, this wouldn't have actually worked out. even if the summer, i imagined with you, drinking mojitos, would've come.
the summer could not warm up your cold soul. it couldn't ever melt ours to one piece. i won't say heart, because yours is quite tepid. you do care about... Your people.
i mean soul, because yours is not craving for something, it's not rejoicing nor saddening for anything at all.
but mine is burning. for everyone. every moment. all the time.
sorry for the fume, dear.
anyway, i am sorry. for everything.
i just can't get your words out of my mind and i just can't believe them.
i think this is my lowest. time.
but thank you for Your time. i feel like i have passed budgeting and management courses and i'm free to hop on to the real world.

and reading this, i can't believe how cold i can really be.
guess i cought the cold from you.