Between so much things that I have to say, it seams that the sure comes after we suffer a lot, cry a lot. This means that haves so much subjects in the world to say, but nothing is so significant as say talk about our feelings. What we are, wise people, after having regrets.
Even that you see you are totally alone brings to you the worst pain in the world, making you believe that the deepest cut of one naval all over your legs; nothing else could make you wiser than this. Invest the quantify of money that you wants, but certify that the result will touch your soul as deep as one broken dream, one broken love. Maybe I really wait too much of people.
Each year that pass I see my self loser, even less I see the fantasy in my dreams; I’m watching myself fall into the human world, and my dream was the opposite. Suddenly I start to like of that sad songs, the sadness makes me smile by deep inside. I don’t know where I am, witch color I see… I know that is not so colorful as I use to like, and I never liked gray, but I think I liked to see the falling snow. Everyone needs a winter inside, and today I want to feel myself cold.
Maybe I want to feel myself cold because I’m habituating me to the pain; now just it brings me good news, brings me the knowledge. What I know is that people see the world of one irrational perspective. Nobody perceives how we are vegetating; faking that all this same things is called by “Living”. What is living?
I don’t know anything else; and I didn’t want to know, for to be easier to live as all they live. But the problem is that I cry everyday, by not knowing nothing, during I wanted to. Who am I and where am I? Where is all that love I need, that I cry by missing it? Where is My love? Each night I ask to the stars if he is looking to them too. They shine, filled by love.
I ask myself if this loneliness is one stage of my life, its almost obvious. But I want to keep crying by my feelings, when I wait for my tears to come, with the classic music that seams to be the trailer of my childhood. Everything was easier, but least significant. How many people really maid the difference? How many birthdates of relatives we could remember of calling and wish all happiness? Had we knew what the happiness is? Maybe is that why we were happy.
Today we learn using the money, and kill the simplicity.
Fall with our heads in one abysm, and the happiness we leave in the place where we jumped. The lifetime is from the beginning until the time we collide with the ground. During early, we could hold some little tree that is next of the start. But nobody remembers nether wants to get back. They just realize when they are one centimeter to collide with the end of all; there’s no time even to look the happiness, which watches you from over that highness, lived behind.
Am I living the happiness behind because I like suffering? Would I be happy, if I’m suffering because it’s bringing me the knowledge of life? What is me, underneath? Who am I? Am I being “Who” or “What”? Because I feel like some Thing in the lonely moments, I just know I’m not because I feel pain in my heart; it is sign that I have one.
All this would be one Help Search if I had not showed that I want to teach you. You could be scary because all this seams to be depression… but if it is; I wish that all the word suffer of depression. The monster of the world is be afraid of thinking, don’t know how to think, and not even want to do it. What’s yours? What do you want for yourself?
If it’s thinking, get ready for this. You will cry a river. But know this: it doesn’t exist something better than this, just because the price is enormous. Money is the medal of irrationals; I want to know how to pay by those things that can enter in the paradise.
Even that you see you are totally alone brings to you the worst pain in the world, making you believe that the deepest cut of one naval all over your legs; nothing else could make you wiser than this. Invest the quantify of money that you wants, but certify that the result will touch your soul as deep as one broken dream, one broken love. Maybe I really wait too much of people.
Each year that pass I see my self loser, even less I see the fantasy in my dreams; I’m watching myself fall into the human world, and my dream was the opposite. Suddenly I start to like of that sad songs, the sadness makes me smile by deep inside. I don’t know where I am, witch color I see… I know that is not so colorful as I use to like, and I never liked gray, but I think I liked to see the falling snow. Everyone needs a winter inside, and today I want to feel myself cold.
Maybe I want to feel myself cold because I’m habituating me to the pain; now just it brings me good news, brings me the knowledge. What I know is that people see the world of one irrational perspective. Nobody perceives how we are vegetating; faking that all this same things is called by “Living”. What is living?
I don’t know anything else; and I didn’t want to know, for to be easier to live as all they live. But the problem is that I cry everyday, by not knowing nothing, during I wanted to. Who am I and where am I? Where is all that love I need, that I cry by missing it? Where is My love? Each night I ask to the stars if he is looking to them too. They shine, filled by love.
I ask myself if this loneliness is one stage of my life, its almost obvious. But I want to keep crying by my feelings, when I wait for my tears to come, with the classic music that seams to be the trailer of my childhood. Everything was easier, but least significant. How many people really maid the difference? How many birthdates of relatives we could remember of calling and wish all happiness? Had we knew what the happiness is? Maybe is that why we were happy.
Today we learn using the money, and kill the simplicity.
Fall with our heads in one abysm, and the happiness we leave in the place where we jumped. The lifetime is from the beginning until the time we collide with the ground. During early, we could hold some little tree that is next of the start. But nobody remembers nether wants to get back. They just realize when they are one centimeter to collide with the end of all; there’s no time even to look the happiness, which watches you from over that highness, lived behind.
Am I living the happiness behind because I like suffering? Would I be happy, if I’m suffering because it’s bringing me the knowledge of life? What is me, underneath? Who am I? Am I being “Who” or “What”? Because I feel like some Thing in the lonely moments, I just know I’m not because I feel pain in my heart; it is sign that I have one.
All this would be one Help Search if I had not showed that I want to teach you. You could be scary because all this seams to be depression… but if it is; I wish that all the word suffer of depression. The monster of the world is be afraid of thinking, don’t know how to think, and not even want to do it. What’s yours? What do you want for yourself?
If it’s thinking, get ready for this. You will cry a river. But know this: it doesn’t exist something better than this, just because the price is enormous. Money is the medal of irrationals; I want to know how to pay by those things that can enter in the paradise.
Paula Morais
