This post was inspired by my heart who’s going boom. I chose the song from Sting called “They Dance Alone”. Is our anguish unsaid or our we missing words?
It’s no casual thing to be in love with someone deceased. And this is harder and harder because she died at age 14 and I fell in love at age 12. It’s a strange feeling because now I’m 38 and still feel helpless about that experience.
Today I opened my heart to my dad and he said I shouldn’t invent a life (he talked about myth to be precise). That’s why it’s important I write this blog post because everyone will see I can’t invent those feelings.
I was saying a few days earlier to someone that the next big thing was here and the revolution is near. They say history doesn’t repeat itself with revolutions. Let’s hope the revolution won’t be televised.
Those Feelings Come With Other Disgusting
The feeling of love I have for the girl I’m thinking of come at an awful price. That’s because those feelings are surrounded with others: bitches. We were 12 and some girls already looked like 18. Others were trying hard to be a woman but it seems the only thing on their mind was to look like a whore.
I guess one should choose carefully between going to a monastery or participating in a sex tape. There must be something in between like driving a car. When you a drive a car, you realise that you can die in the blink of an eye: you, your passengers and maybe other drivers.
Learning to drive a car was kind of a coming of age experience to me. It meant I was a responsible person. But somehow some people managed to drag me into rehab with a powerful hypnotic sedation.
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
They say love should remain intelligent otherwise you will become blind. But something here inside cannot be denied. Like a private investigation about early puberty. It seems early puberty should not be taken lightly because it can be a sign of cancer.
But I have a musical hint about that: you wanna fly away and get away. You don’t know where you’re going to go and destiny will be here for you like maybe crashing the car in a tree.
Something here inside cannot be denied. If love is blindness, what could exactly make you see again? May you see the light surrounding you like good music or progress in space travels.
I was born in 1980 and just before we had the Golden Age of Porn. People spent their time showing their dicks on TV. If girls are showing their breast, why shouldn’t men show them dicks?
This Way Of Life Put Us To The Test
I used to have a wonderful heart thanks to my Mediterranean culture. But something happened on the way to the beach. France decided in 1789 to make the world free of the Christ whose message was mainly about severity and cruelty.
I know some people who behave like the antichrist yet don’t mind being unfaithful to their girlfriend. Who were those people of vulgarity, jealousy and unconsciousness? Rip off the mask and let’s see.
They say with every masks comes a wound. For example, if you’re rigid your wound is injustice. If you’re in a coma, then maybe it was too dirty. Humanity reached a degree of corruption that was unseen in the 1970s. I can still feel it because I was born in 1980. And that may be why my high school lover died.
Can You Hear The Music In The Country?
As a conclusion, I remember the French anthem composed during the revolution: they were talking about their country because Paris (the capital) was kinda doomed. The truth is that, if you feel like having a heart attack, that may be money problems or just a (private) investigation.
The Golden Age of Porn was a nice thing to experience. Suddenly, we have an AIDS epidemic. I think I kind of had AIDS without any sexual relationship. It happened naturally with a chemotherapy that was supposed to get rid of my acne vulgaris. The person responsible for this will pay because at the moment I’m wondering if the teachers were not responsible for all our diseases.
I remember at age 14 my high school lover wondering why I didn’t shave my moustache. Suddenly, the class became nuts and, of course, teachers needed to do something about it. I’m so sick to my stomach that I feel like a child needing to explain the war.