Life made me cynical, suspicious, skeptical.
At 42 i look at the mirror and I see an old lady, bitter, betrayed, lied to.
At 42 i feel like a little child, eager to explore life at it’s fullest and yet, i feel time running off like sand between my fingers.
There was not enough love for me. I craved much more than life and people could cope with.
For too long I believed to be planting flowers and fruits, trusting the fair and rewarding harvest. But overnight, somehow the seeds were exchanged and I ended up dedicating my precious time planting thorns instead. It hurts to be so naive.
Sitting outside, I see myself hoping for things that would never happen.
Observing the wind that touches my hair and the hair that touches my skin, careless.
Pack up, go away, give up!
It was all a big trap. No one is watching, no one is coming for the rescue.
Walk away, and know that very little matters or make any difference.
Life left me faithless.
And yet, naive as I am, i go on trying.
If there is any chance of happiness in the world, I will go on looking for it until the very last breath of life in me.