I'm here, waiting for my call Peloche, chaining cigarette after cigarette, wanting to be alone again, afraid to be alone again. I feel trapped, tied up, anxious, sad, hurt, confused, amazed at the fact of not being able to be myself again. I great, I am free, I sure I insecure, I dance with everyone, I was in the glass case. Thinking "when will I learn to decide how long I miss before I sign, stand up to what my soul has known that time I have to do." Meanwhile, postpone the inevitable, I cheated and misled everyone who looks at me. All no. There are those who love me and look at me with pity, and tell me your eyes: You know, you are, you're worth. Are great, free, safe, unsafe. Learn, Learn, Learn. And running. Nothing is so terrible. Life can end now, and I lose me because I can not be in the now. I want peace, want to work, want to breathe, known, loved and unloved, live, dream, make love, mourn, tremble, be embraced without question. I'm making a terrible injustice to the Cosmos and we all know that this bar will not be anyone without pay.
