I just figure it out ...
I can do a bit 'emo?
Come on, since I created this journal, I wrote that post is not absurd or presumptuous. I myself on my little corner of self-pity: I think it is terribly trendy, the last period, not to mention that I'm really reading Twilight. What else could you expect? Perhaps more appropriate would be a laugh, of course. Unfortunately, there pecking self-pity.
(Note that anyone can think of think it is going emo because of that paper. That anyone can think of that I think is becoming emo. Period. If I turn into a life form less, we will choose at least one more with a minimum of style).
Anyway back to my self-pity.
Tomorrow is my birthday, and I should shoot out happiness from every pore, why spend a whole day with the people most important to me. I'm planning a mega-party that I hope to remember. I'm studying philology, as both study in view of a dangerously close examination, is one of the finest materials that ever happened to me. I finally found a handful of lovely people who dressed to perfection in my life. I finally found the person, that life perfectly seasoned, divide more willingly. Yet
. There is always a yet.
A tiny particle that is threatening to move the wrong way - you are moving the wrong way. a particle that looks at you, smiles slyly, fully aware of the irreparable disaster that is about to unleash in the already fragile balance of a happiness that might seem, finally, perfect.
And it certainly will not be a collapse of those epoch-making, when the whole world can watch. It will not be something extraordinarily striking, of those who spent some 'time, collected the fragments of your life in the rubble, you can somehow forget, walking slowly along the sunny boulevard of your new life. It will be a collapse
small, brief, almost imperceptible. A collapse that, in the end, only you will see it as such. Just a couple of inches, enough that most people even noticing it and why, the more careful, we can say with a shrug, that yes, they have seen how that corner has been slightly moved, but surely you can continue to live with it.
a collapse that even you can define that, maybe. A settlement, perhaps, that just leaves you with a sharp edge to deep scratches, a constant dull pain, that you wake up in time before you'll believe you found that balance that can be really, finally, the final one.
Only a barrier that prevents you from considering the past as such.
Only one corner, you remember what the ancients were right. Why
really think that the story, damn, is repeated in a continuous loop.
