So many people, and only rarely do they know me. To live in a world where sometimes just get lost in relation to a particular subject is not so difficult. The main time to understand the confusion. Or the right decision. To walk, sometimes turning around to see their mistakes - the feelings of those who frankly do not care for, their own failures on all levels, that somehow, something decided, though not at the moment, but decided not to you, not against You simply decide, fleeting moments of happiness that has seeped into everyday dullness, sometimes painting the daily instantaneous bright flash of brightness of childhood, youth turbulence. They are so many that do not fit into one small skull, filled with gray brain matter, and norovyaschie evaporate in futility.
People are so monotonous. Trying to stand out, not only disfigure the corporeal shell, but the soul that is doomed inside. Flight of the soul? And I do not want to hear. I'm realistic. The soul will soar after death. I hope so. Eternal tired of the bright city lights, from the perpetual noise of cars that pollute the air, not only, but also something human inside. It's just nonsense.
The most ridiculous in this, I consider myself to be. I should not judge people, but I continue to do so. No different from the herd of moral idiots, chasing only their selfish goals, destroying those who are destroying all the bridges with the people dear to me. And who am I then? That's one of those freaks who are tens of thousands, millions. Hah, it's even funny. Be who you are, and hard to try to deny it. Living on the previously known ballad unwanted thoughts, and animal instincts. Live life and not live. With envy looking at the happy faces, unconsciously accusing them happy, angry at fate. In far too many believe does not exist for realistic? It may be. After all, nothing stands still - slowly but moving. And so did I, at a speed of a cheetah, nesus into that pit, about which she knew long ago, in which both did not want to get into, but still ...
I have the courage to answer the question: "If the past could change anything, would you do it?" - Is not definitive. Let me arrange some events, even if I ever was dissatisfied with everything, too closed and too open, too I - all I was taught. All of this invaluable experience. All that could be destroyed - I'm broke. All that can be built - I left without attention. I do not regret, I'm happy. And it is cynical, I know. I'm cynical, selfish ... But not for everyone. Only for families. And the rest ... Yes, they want to shit on me, just as I am to them. Every second I want to kill a particularly cruel way, and every third - a long time and methodically nailed to a wall without killing, but just making fun. I guess I would have turned out great maniac, too humane, too cruel. Just too much.
And now, married with two children, I want to become a victim of its own. To swallow something, so that these foolish thoughts once and left my head, just a nice void. Why are nice? Yes, I'm just sure of it. Life is not a burden, but no joy. Perhaps a strange desire - to be the end of days in an insane asylum, but for me it was normal. People do not understand. And I do not.
I hate my husband. And I hate their children because they are so similar to him. Yes, and I did not want him to leave. It just happened - I had no where to live, that is, in general no means of livelihood. And then he turned up - his, of course, sorry - I do not love him, and he loves me and will not be able to leave, even if he wants. We have a mutual habit of lying to yourself and others that we are all just super, we live in perfect harmony, and above us just flying flowers. And few people know that our apartment is divided into several zones - it is my and children. Toilet, bathroom and kitchen do not count. We only intersect there. And then, sometimes. Once again not to swear, not to fight ... What am I, by nature, love. But they do not want. Just do not want to, they are too long to tolerate me. And in general, too many of these too.
A person with whom I wanted to live life - be happy. He has a beautiful daughter and a very caring family. Sometimes I am tormented by the question - can he ever love me? And the answer is simple in the extreme - no. As a friend - yes, but not as a girl, the individual of the opposite sex. And I loved him. And I still love you. I odnolyubka. And it suits all - me, because asking questions is not given, they - just do not know. And do not have to know - do not have to. Fairy tales are not all good for everyone - there will always be those who lose out, the only difference is what he is - big or small?
But I probably still strong, still just live. And I must go to the store - to buy a gift to his son - he has after all, birthday soon. And although I am a bad mother, but still her mother. And even if you hate them, somewhere deep inside, where I end my fucking - love. Even my kids too. And her husband also love - a special, twisted love, time is still together. Maybe they like me. Yes, only I need it?